Page 77 of Before You
“Honestly, I don’t know much about football,” I admit, and she waves it off.
“Totally fine. It’s basically this award you win for being the best player in college football. My dad won his last year at Duke, and Henry was runner-up his senior year. It basically solidifies you as a first-round draft pick if your name is associated with it.”
“Shut the fuck up about the Heisman, Mira,” Hunter grumbles, checking his phone. “Kait says you might want to start sipping on your drink instead of holding it in your hand. There’s already posts online trying to guess whether you’re pregnant or not.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Mirabelle groans, lifting her drink to her mouth with one hand while holding her middle finger up with the other. The Jumbotron chooses this exact moment to pan to our box again, and Mirabelle’s middle finger is blown up for a few seconds before flipping to the student section. “Oh goodie, maybe they won’t show us again,” she says, huffing, and I honestly can’t blame her. I would love to do it with her.
“I bet they won’t,” I agree, leaning forward to see if I can catch a glimpse of JJ on the field.
“Is it like this with your family too?” Mirabelle asks, and it’s the first time since they’ve arrived that my family’s been brought up, which I honestly appreciate, because I feel like it’s the first thing people want to talk about.
“Yeah. At my last school, the press would try to follow me to class. Part of the reason I wanted to transfer here was to get away from it all to figure out who I am outside of the city. It’s part of the gig, but it usually gets crazier whenever rumors pop up about my mom relapsing, and it takes a few weeks before some other scandal happens and distracts everyone.” I lean back in my seat, and then I realize everyone’s fallen quiet. “Oh, it’s never the truth. She’s been clean for nine years,” I add, refusing to let the memory of the day I found her on the bathroom floor ruin today. I was twelve and it was the worst day of my life to date.
Oh god, I made this awkward. Great job, Mar! You just made a very loud group of people fall silent, and I have a feeling this never happens.
“That takes a lot of strength. I’m glad she’s doing well,” Thalia says, directing a reassuring smile my way, helping me to relax.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling back at her.
“Are you liking Beaumont?” Sebastian asks, and I smile, nodding.
“I do. My dad went here for his undergrad, so my brother and I have spent a lot of time here over the years. It makes me forget sometimes who I am, and it’s just a nice feeling,” I say, and Mirabelle reaches over to squeeze my hand reassuringly.
The game starts a few minutes later, and it’s clear before the first quarter is over that it’s not going well. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard this many swear words in such a short amount of time.
After another play leaves JJ standing wide open, our offense is jogging half-heartedly off the field as our defensive line replaces them.
“What the fuck is he waiting for? JJ’s been open the whole fucking time!” Hunter swears, yelling at the field right alongside his mom.
Mirabelle shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink. “He’s throwing the game,” she says, as the other team’s quarterback throws the ball, finding a man open, and my jaw falls open when they score again.
“What?” I ask, and Mirabelle stares at the scoreboard, showing the ugly score I hope we can recover from.
“Your quarterback is throwing the game.” She points to the sidelines where the coach is yelling at Trent as the band thunders, trying to pump up the crowd. “He’s not running the plays the coach is calling.”
“He wouldn’t,” I say, trying to give Trent the benefit of the doubt, because regardless of how pissed he might be at me and JJ, he wouldn’t do that to his team.
Except he proves me wrong when not a single defensive member of their team blocks JJ on the next play, and instead of passing it to JJ, Trent throws it directly into the hands of the other team. The crowd is deafening as it yells at Trent and the offensive line exiting the field.
“Did something happen between them this week?” Mirabelle asks, looking at me for answers, confirming my suspicion this is about the other night at my place.
“Um, kind of,” I say, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I don’t have any nails left to bite. “JJ was staying the night at my place a few days ago, and Trent showed up drunk, banging on the door. He wanted another chance, but realized JJ and I are together, so he said some shit . . .”
She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue and I sigh.
“JJ pinned him against the wall, and basically told Trent if he comes near me again, no team would touch him if your family blacklisted him.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Mirabelle swears, a quiet laugh escaping her. “For JJ to threaten him . . .Wow. I mean, he’s not wrong, but what the hell did Trent say to you?”
“For the record, Trent and I had been broken up for a few weeks before anything happened between me and JJ, but he might have called me a cheating bitch—which is really ironic considering he couldn’t remember how many times he cheated on me—and asked if I would leave his room at night to go to JJ’s for seconds.” My cheeks are burning, and I can barely look at Mirabelle.This is beyond embarrassing.
“Hewhat?” Hunter asks, his voice low, and I didn’t realize he was paying attention.
“It’s fine, everyone was fine. I think his ego is bruised or whatever, and this is his tantrum for not getting his way, but—”
“But nothing,”Hunter interrupts, his outburst pulling everyone’s attention. “It doesn’t matter what the circumstancesare, he shouldn’t have said any of it to you, and as an athlete, he should know better than to bring his shit onto the field. JJ said he was a dick, but he didn’t explain why.”
“What happened?” Sebastian asks, and I wish I could turn invisible right now.
