Page 124 of Dirty Roulette
“What are you talking about?” I run my other hand down the back of her head, combing through her pretty long curls.
“Brody posted our video online.” She gulps and my heart falls to the floor. “He’s still playing, he’s gonna force you to break up with me, or he’s getting you kicked off the team.” She bites her glossy bottom lip.
I lick my chapped lips. “Payt...” My eyes dart around, and now I understand practice. He’s trying to piss me off. “Okay...” I can’t think straight.. “We go on the field in less than five minutes.” Sweat pools to my palms.
Brody appears at the corner of my eyes and leans against the lockers with a snarky smile, like he’s the Terrifier with a hacksaw ready tofinish the job and kill me for good. “Oh, did you like the premiere?” He cackles as he squeezes his head into his helmet. “I honestly didn’t expect to get the grossest vanilla bullshit.”
“Screw you!” I snap.
“You want the damn ball, then end it with her!”
“Break up with Payt?”
“Your choice, you either want to play football or you want Trash?”
“Stop calling her that! That’s not happening, and if I end my football career it’ll be ‘cause you couldn’t keep your hands off my damn sister!” I’m boiling over and it's like gasoline to a match. I’m about to blow this shit wide open.
Brody runs his front teeth over his bottom lip and chuckles. “You retracted the statement and said you lied.”
“Ilied?” I lose it again, my hands combing through my hair as I laugh. Prison doesn’t taste so sour anymore. I’ll tattoo my face and be the top dog running the prison like a king. Everyone will know my story. I’m the guy who snapped the neck of his sister’s rapist.
“You’ve lied your way to being a quarterback.” I grab the fabric of his Jersey and slam him into the locker with my knuckles white, ready to break his nose.
“What the hell is with you two!” Coach Storm slams his notebook on the bench and pulls me off him. “Henderson, I thought you said you two were good?” Coach questions, and I go silent with his eyes darting back and forth at both of us. “I’m done with both of you and your petty drama. You can’t get along during practice this morning and both of you are fighting in here over some chick. Get a grip!” He rants on, spit spewing out of his mouth. His face is redder than a ripe tomato. “We start in five minutes. Get your shit together!” Then Coach cranes his head at Payton and points a finger in her face. “Andyou! Get out of my locker room, or there will be an incident report written on Monday morning! GET!”
Payton’s looks at me with pain and anger pouring through her eyes, and my chest caves in – collapsing like an unstable cliff, taking everything with it. Her eyes drop to her white shoes and she races out.
“Both of you get a grip. One word out of your mouth on the field, and I’m dropping both of you from the team. I’d rather lose the damn season than deal with this bullshit any longer.” Coach snatches his notebook from the bench and storms away. “Let’s go, Falcons!” His voice vibrates off the walls.
I slam my fist in a locker. Brody cocks a smile and leans into me, “Come on Mister Running Back, and deflower this cheerleader.” He uses a girly voice to mimic her. He taps me on the shoulder as if we are buddies. “If you want me to pass you the ball, dump her. Or you ain’t gonna get anymore records.”
“That part wasn’t negotiated.”
“Well, I can still press charges, so your little tantrum just added to your debt.”
Brody turns a heel and walks out with the other players. I slide the football helmet from the bench, and jog out behind them.
The double doors swing open and the white lights ignite the field in green. The air is crisp as it greets my nostrils. It’s a roar, the packed stadium completely drowning out any other noise. Not a single seat is empty and people cheer in dark green jerseys.
As the team dips right, I swing left to the group of cheerleaders chanting. Payton gathers her pom-poms and my heart thrashes against my chest when she turns to meet my gaze. Pain shoots out of her eyes, her cheeks rosy from the crisp air.
“Payton...” I swallow, my mouth dries.
“Yeah...” her voice tremors.
I meet her cheek with a thumb and lean down where my face is aligned with hers.
“I... I love you. I’ll always love you. Do you believe me when I say that?” She nods her head, grabbing my hand and squeezing it hard. “I love you, Payton Bailey; I’m not leaving you. Don’t you dare think for a second I’m going to.”
“I love you too, you stupid Crab.”
I coil a hand around the back of her head and press my forehead against hers, breathing her in. Her strawberry shampoo mixed with vanilla. “Don’t get caught.” I grip a fistful of hair. “End it. End Roulette for good.”
The one thing I’ve always wanted was a damn football, and regrets eat at me because I’d rather throw in the towel now than give in to Brody. Four years wasted on a dream that was never going to happen. I don’t want to play anymore, not if she can’t be mine. It’s not worth losing Payton over a damn ball. I tremble in pure agony as I make my choice. With both hands, I grasp Payton’s pink cheeks and kiss her. Not just a peck either – I delve fully into her and our tongues fight for dominance, pouring every ounce of our feelings into each other. When we part, I can still taste the cherry flavor of her lips on mine as I turn to the Jumbotron. Like I expected, the camera is highlighting everyone on the field and caught a ten second clip of us with the kissing cam.
Chapter forty-eight
Payton
