For the Rush (Playing for Keeps #3) (7 page)

“Anyway, what happened to Preston? He came into my math class with his face all bruised up. When the teacher asked him about it, he said he’d fallen down. But it’s totally obvious he’d been in a fight.” Jasmine shook her head like she thought whatever had happened to Preston was his fault. It annoyed me that she hadn’t even entertained the idea that his injuries might have been a result of bullying. And why hadn’t she assumed that? Everyone could see how badly he got picked on.

“Well, I’m not surprised. He’s always had a bad temper,” Gianna added smugly. “Remember when he got suspended Freshman year for losing it during an assembly?”

“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that,” Jasmine said. “That was crazy.”

“What happened?” I asked, my stomach tightening.

“Chloe.” Holden jogged toward me, interrupting our conversation.

Jasmine and Gianna’s mouths gaped open, wider than baseballs.

“You ran away from me earlier, but I wasn’t done,” he said breathlessly. “I want to explain about this morning.”

“But I’m not interested in hearing it.” I stepped around him.

“C’mon, if you don’t talk to me here, I’ll just call you on the phone, or find you at the gym.” His words stopped me.

Jasmine and Gianna’s heads snapped up, incredulousness written on their faces. I hadn’t told them about my weekend with Holden. Actually, after what happened this morning, I hadn’t planned to ever tell them. I didn’t see the point. Clearly now I’d have to though.

“Fine.” Spinning around, I stepped away from my friends and crossed my arms over my chest. “Say what you need to.” It would be better than having to dodge his calls or hide from him at the gym.

“Ryan’s a jerk, okay? He never should’ve treated you like that, but it’s just how he is.” Holden stepped closer to me, invading my personal space. It made me uncomfortable, and I stepped back, my butt hitting a nearby car. “But I’m not like him.”

“So, he’s not a friend of yours?” I glared at him. A group of rowdy boys passed us, all shouting and razzing each other.

Holden’s shoulders dropped, an expression of defeat shrouding his face. It was all the answer I needed.

“That’s what I thought.” I shook my head.

“Just because he’s my friend doesn’t mean I’m like him,” Holden defended himself. “I don’t pick on anyone.”

“But by choosing to hang out with someone who does, it’s like you’re saying it’s okay,” I pointed out.

Holden’s mouth thinned out into a hard line. “It’s not that simple. Ryan and I have been friends since we were kids. You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s been through. I do.”

“I know he’s an ass. That’s enough for me,” I said.

“It must be nice to see everything in black and white.” Holden surprised me by touching my arm. I flinched. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Preston standing at the edge of the parking lot, watching us. The look on his face caused a chill to skate up my back. Before I could analyze my reaction, Holden moved even closer to me. “But you can’t judge people that quickly. There’s always more under the surface. All I’m asking is for you to hold off judgment on me until you get all of your facts.”

I swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to say yes. With Holden’s hand on my skin and his eyes piercing mine, I lost all sense of right and wrong. All the doubts I’d had about Holden previously flew out the window. Maybe he was right. Perhaps I was too quick to judge him. And how was that any better than what people did to Preston? They judged him based on rumors and perception, without ever getting to know him. I needed to practice what I preached. And that’s how I found myself nodding and agreeing to give Holden a second chance.

Holden

My friendship with Ryan started with a fistfight.

It was middle school and Ryan was the kid no one messed with. At lunch some of the kids played football out on the field. It was supposed to be for fun, but when Ryan played it became more serious. He was out for blood. It was like he took out all his aggression on the field. What started as a pickup game soon turned into an all-out brawl when Ryan was involved. The days when he didn’t play were the best. It was during those days that I realized how much I loved the game. How much I loved the feel of the football in my hand. Loved the rush of throwing it into the waiting arms of another player.

Every day I ate my lunch quickly, anxious to play. But when I’d walk out onto the field and see Ryan there, my stomach twisted, apprehension filling me. Sometimes I’d just walk away and find something else to do. Other days I’d suck it up and play anyway. It was on one of those days that Ryan and I got into a fight. He was pushing me around, spouting off trash talk. And not friendly trash talk. No, there was nothing friendly about the things he was saying. It was mean-spirited, and I’d had enough. Even then I knew I had talent. It was clear that I could throw unlike any of the other guys. And I wasn’t going to let Ryan ruin football for me any longer. So I fought back. I came at him with words first, but when he didn’t back off, I used physical force. We ended up rolling around in the grass, throwing punches until a yard duty stopped us. We both ended up getting suspended, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom so pissed at me. However, Ryan treated me different after that day. He treated me with respect, admiration even, and soon a friendship formed. As I got to know him, I realized why he acted the way he did. Being tough was all he’d ever known. Being raised by an abusive dad and older brothers who pushed him around, he had to be like that. It was the only way he could survive.

When I signed up to play football recreationally in seventh grade, so did Ryan. I was good at throwing, but Ryan was fast. Like one of the fastest runners I’d ever seen, and he could catch almost anything thrown at him. Therefore, we fit together perfectly. Me as quarterback and him as a wide receiver. We made a great team. He was the guy I searched for on the field before making a throw, and together we’d won many games.

Ryan always had my back, and we’d been there for each other through a lot. I knew what Chloe saw when she looked at him. A meathead. A bully. A jerk. And those words did describe him. But there was more to him than that. He was loyal. A great athlete. A good friend. And even though I didn’t agree with everything he did, I wasn’t ready to turn my back on him.

However, that didn’t mean I wanted to be judged by his actions. I needed for Chloe to see me as separate from Ryan. As my own person. I needed to prove to her that I was different. That I wasn’t a bully.

I didn’t know why I cared so much what Chloe thought. Normally if a girl walked away from me, I’d let her go. But for some reason I couldn’t do that with her. When she stormed away from me earlier, it killed me. It was like someone took a knife to my gut. The reaction surprised me. I hardly knew the girl. We’d only had a few conversations. But those conversations were more meaningful than any I’d had in a long time. Chloe made me feel things. She stirred something inside of me. Something new and exciting. It made me anxious to see what would happen if things went deeper with us.

When she told me she’d give me a second chance, something shifted in my chest. My lungs expanded, air flowing freely. I hadn’t even realized it had been so constricted before. I was grateful for the lifeline she had thrown me. All I needed was one more chance, and I would prove myself to her.

I had no doubt about that.

The sun was unrelenting as it beat down on me.  Inside all of my football gear the heat was stifling, the stink of sweat overpowering the smell of fresh air and turf. I palmed the football, savoring the smooth leather feel. Then I drew it back and released it, watching it shoot into Ryan’s waiting hands. My shoulder had loosened up. Maybe the spa had done it good.

“Nice throw, man,” Ryan shouted through his helmet. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Compliments weren’t something Ryan gave out freely, and usually they were veiled in an insult. But during today’s practice I’d been on fire. Even Ryan couldn’t deny it. I just needed to keep it up for the game Friday night.

A whistle blew out. Ryan palmed the ball and ran in my direction. Together we headed over to our water bottles. I snatched mine up and guzzled some cool liquid. It felt like a little piece of heaven as it coated my tongue and slid down my throat.

“Here you go, Miss Priss,” Ryan teased as a red jersey smacked me in the face. It’s what I wore when we ran plays so the other players would know I was the quarterback and wouldn’t try to tackle me. “Wouldn’t want you to get hit.”

“Me either, because if I did the team would be screwed,” I pointed out.

Ryan’s face soured. “Nah. Then Coach would put Sam in. We’d be fine.” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep a straight face, and we both burst into laughter.  It’s not that Sam was a bad quarterback. He just wasn’t as good as me. No one was going to chance hitting me during a practice. The team wanted a guarantee that we’d win.

After running plays with the offensive line and then getting the entire team together for a little offense versus defense play, we headed back to the lockers to change. As much as I loved playing ball, I was more than happy to change out of my uniform. Clearly Mother Nature didn’t get the memo that it was fall. It was stinking hot today. So hot it felt like the middle of summer.

As I jogged off the field, my mind traveled to Chloe. I wondered if she was at the spa tonight. She most likely was. There was no way I’d set foot in that hot tub, but a dip in the pool might be just what the doctor ordered. As sweat slid between my shoulder blades, I decided to swing by the gym on my way home. I didn’t have my swim trunks, but I could jump in the pool in my shorts. It would cool me off and give me a chance to talk to Chloe, effectively killing two birds with one stone.

“So what’s the deal with you and marching band chick?” Ryan ran up beside me, breathing hard. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his hair.

“Nothing.” I bristled, not ready to fill Ryan in on Chloe and me. Besides, it’s not like there was anything to tell. Not yet anyway.

“I saw you chatting her up after school. And it’s not the first time.” He eyed me funny. “You don’t have a thing for her, do you?”

I swallowed thickly, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Chloe was hot, and she was funny and nice. Spunky, too. Unlike any girl I’d met. But none of that would mean anything to Ryan. All he saw was a band geek. That shouldn’t matter. I should’ve looked him right in the eye and told him I liked her. That I was attracted to her. That she was the girl from the spa. But for some reason, I couldn’t.

“Hey, man. Looking good out there.” Sawyer slapped me on the back as he jogged past. “We’re totally kicking ass on Friday night.”

“Was there ever any doubt, Riddles?” Ryan challenged him, using the nickname he’d given him freshman year. Sawyer’s last name was Ridley, and he was one of those guys who joked about everything. Rarely was he serious. That’s why the nickname stuck. Ryan may have come up with it, but now everyone called him that. “Even if Holden here couldn’t make a throw we’d still bury them. I still got my skills and mad speed. I make his bad throws look like good ones.”

Shaking my head, I chuckled.

Sawyer did too. “You better be careful, Ry. I’m not sure that big-ass head of yours will fit through the locker room doors.”

My laughter heightened as Sawyer took off.

“What are you laughing at?” Ryan shoved me in the shoulder, but I knew he wasn’t mad. He could take a joke. Lord knows he dished them out enough. Besides, he and Sawyer were pretty tight. “You’re the one dating a band geek. Her big-ass hat can’t fit through the locker room doors.”

That shut me up. “I’m not dating her, okay?” I spoke through gritted teeth. As we entered the locker room, the sound of male voices wove around me.

“Relax, I know you’d never date her. I was just teasing you.” Ryan nudged me again before heading over to his locker.

Nodding, I turned away from him. As I moved toward my locker, my insides twisted. The truth was that I did want to date Chloe. Why was that so hard to admit? Remembering my earlier conversation with her, I wondered if she was right about me. Perhaps I wasn’t any better than Ryan.

Chloe

It looked like their eyes would pop out of their heads. I imagined them getting so big they actually exploded into a million pieces, splattering us all with stickiness. The minute we got into the car they threw questions at me.

“When did you give Holden your number?”

“How often have you talked to him?”

“Why were you being so rude?”

“Why did he ask you to give him another chance?”

Finally I interrupted them. “You’re gonna have to stop talking over one another if you want me to answer.”

“Sorry.” Gianna pretended to be zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. With the precision in which she did it, I thought she would make a good mime.

Jasmine snapped her mouth shut too as she stuck the keys in the ignition and turned on the car. I settled into the backseat as she pulled out of the parking space. The lot had cleared out considerably since we’d first come out here, but there were still many people milling about. Glancing out the window, I caught Preston making his way toward a car idling, a middle-aged woman sitting in the driver’s seat. My stomach clenched. His mom picked him up from school? Man, he might as well have worn a target on his back. Everything about the kid screamed, “Please pick on me!”

“We’re waiting,” Gianna said in a sing-song voice.

Oh, right.
The Holden interrogation was still underway.

I sighed. “Remember when I told you I met Holden at the gym?”

They nodded simultaneously. Actually they did that a lot. They’d been best friends since elementary school, and they were super alike. Sometimes it felt like they were mirror images of one another. In fact, when I first met them I assumed I wouldn’t become good friends with them. Since they were so close, I didn’t think there would be room for me in their circle. But I was wrong. They invited me in and made me feel welcome right off the bat. And now that we’d been hanging out, I realized that they sort of needed me to balance things out. I added a much-needed component to the group.

“Well, we ran into each other a second time and had a great conversation. He asked for my number, so I gave it to him. Then that night he texted me and--”

“He texted you!” Gianna squealed, pressing her hands to her mouth. “What did he say?”

“I was getting to that,” I said dryly. This was exactly why I didn’t want them to find out. I knew they’d make a bigger deal out of it than it was. Besides, I had no idea where it would lead. “When he texted, he asked if I wanted to meet at the gym the next day. I was already going with my parents anyway, so I told him what time we were going.”

“And he met you there?” Gianna was leaning over the seat now practically salivating. Jasmine was uncharacteristically quiet, but I assumed it was because she was driving. Her head remained forward, her hands holding steady to the wheel. Music played faintly in the background.

I nodded.

“Then what happened?” Gianna asked, eyes bright.

“Nothing. We talked, and that was that.”

“Then what was he talking about?” Jasmine finally spoke up. “Why did he ask for a second chance?”

“Because I was pissed at him about what happened this morning.” Lowering my head, I picked at a string on my jeans. My fingernails were chipped, and I made a mental note to redo them tonight. I had no idea why I even bothered to paint them. The polish never stayed on for more than a couple of days.

“What happened this morning?” Jasmine asked, turning the wheel. The car careened around a corner, and I held onto the door.

“You were there,” I reminded her. “Holden’s friend was teasing us.”

Expertly manicured lawns and two-story tract homes flanked us as we entered my neighborhood.

“You’re mad at Holden because of how Ryan McCracken treated us?” Gianna furrowed her brows, looking at me like I had thirteen heads.

“Seriously? Ryan’s a jerk. He always has been. He picks on everyone,” Jasmine interjected. “But it has nothing to do with Holden.”

“Holden’s his friend,” I pointed out.

“So what?” Jasmine said. “Are you responsible for everything I do?”

I suppose she did have a point. Shrugging, I didn’t have a clear answer for her.

Jasmine guided the car to the curb when we reached my house. Then she turned toward me. “I don’t really know Holden, but he’s always seemed like a nice guy. And he’s Holden freaking Reece.” She smiled. “And he’s interested in you. This is huge.”

Gianna nodded emphatically. “You’re so lucky. I would die if Holden was interested in me.”

They were making me uncomfortable. Shifting in my seat, I hated how my heart responded to their words. I didn’t want to like Holden just because of who he was. I’d never been one of those girls who got caught up in the popularity game. But I still couldn’t help the feeling of pride that welled up in my chest.

“You’re going to be like the new London Miller.” Gianna’s statement left me perplexed.

“Who is London Miller?”

“She graduated last year. She was a total book nerd, but she snagged one of the hottest guys at our school – Cooper Montgomery.” Gianna’s gaze flickered to Jasmine’s. “I’ve heard they’re still together too. They go to the same college and everything.”

“I think it’s a little too soon to be planning my future with Holden. We’re not even dating.” I folded my fingers around the strap of my backpack, the rough fabric chafing the soft skin of my palm. It was time to get out of this car and away from this conversation. I had agreed to give Holden a second chance, but that didn’t mean he was my boyfriend.

At dinner I picked at my food, my stomach in knots. It wasn’t until I got home when the ramifications of what I’d done slammed into me with so much force it was like a punch to my gut. Now my belly churned like a dryer on full speed. I imagined my insides being tossed about like a load of wet clothes. How was I going to keep my promise to both Preston and Holden at the same time? It seemed impossible. Keeping my head bent, I stayed silent, lost in my own thoughts. For awhile Mom and Dad had talked with each other, but now it was quiet. Only the sound of forks scraping on plates spun around me.

“Everything okay, Chloe?” Mom’s question broke into my thoughts.

I sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about this guy…and something that happened at school today.” Dropping my fork on the table beside my plate, I decided to stop the charade. It was clear that I wasn’t going to eat anything.

“Is this the same guy from the spa?” Mom raised a brow. Dad shifted in his seat, wearing a wary look.

I shook my head.

“Two guys, huh?” Now both eyebrows lifted. “Wow, you’re moving fast.”

“It sounds to me like it’s time to slow down,” Dad muttered, nervously twirling his fork in between his thick fingers.

Exasperated, I waved away his words with my arms. “No, I’m not interested in two guys.” I paused. “There’s this kid at school – Preston. He’s a nice kid. Kinda weird, I guess, but nice. But everyone picks on him. He’s constantly being bullied, and I’m like the only person who ever even seems to care. No one sticks up for him at all.” As the words tumbled from my lips, my anger built, each word like a block being stacked on top of another one. “Today he got beat up by a couple of bigger guys – football players. And it just made me so mad, you know? So I told him I’d help him.” Lowering my head, I bit my lip. “The problem is, I just don’t know how to.”

“Well, I hope you took him to the office to report the fight,” Dad said, spearing a piece of broccoli on his fork. “Gold Rush High has a zero tolerance policy.”

“He said he’s gone to the office numerous times. The school never helps him,” I responded.

“That doesn’t seem right. Are you sure you can trust this kid?” Dad narrowed his eyes.

That was the thing about Dad. Everything was black and white to him. And he’d always believed in fairness and justice. Maybe because things had always seemed to go his way. But I knew better than that. Life wasn’t always fair. Rules didn’t always protect you. Those in authoritative positions didn’t always look out for your best interest. I’d learned these things the hard way. Every school I’d ever gone to had anti-bullying rules, but that never stopped kids from doing it. Not only had I witnessed my share of bullying, but I’d been a recipient many times too. And, let me tell you, anti-bullying rules rarely protected us.

“I don’t think he’s making this up, Dad.” I balled my napkin in my fist. “Why would he? The poor kid is being harassed daily at school. I’m pretty sure he’d want to do anything to make it stop.”

“If that’s the case, then what are you going to do?” Dad asked. “Are you going to step in and defend him? Coming from a guy, I can assure you that will only make things worse for him.”

It was the same thing Preston had said.

“You’re compassionate, Chloe. It’s one of the things I love about you,” Dad continued. “But you can’t save everyone. And this is way out of your league. The only person that can help this boy is his parents, the staff at the school, or himself.”

“Himself?” I had expected the first two, but the last one threw me.

“This is going to sound harsh,” Dad started, “but kids know how to spot the weakest link. They tend to pick on the kids who let them. Preston needs to fight back. Maybe take a defense class or two.”

My insides coiled. There was no way I would tell Preston to fight back. How would that be helping him? If he was capable of defending himself, wouldn’t he have done it by now? I sank further into the depths of hopelessness with each of Dad’s words.

“Chloe.” Mom extended her hand, placing it over mine. I was glad she was finally chiming in. It’s not that I didn’t respect my dad’s opinion, but he’s like Holden. All muscles and good looks. He’d never been bullied in school. I’d thumbed through his old high school yearbooks. He was Mr. Popular Football star. Therefore, his stance on this wasn’t surprising. “I think you’re already helping this boy.”

“I am?” I asked, puzzled.

“You said that no one is nice to him. No one cares.” Mom smiled. “Maybe he’s never stuck up for himself because he’s never had anyone believe in him. Friendship is a powerful thing. Supporting someone is huge.” I could read the pride in Mom’s eyes when she gently squeezed my hand. Her soft floral scent wafted under my nose. I knew that scent would linger on my skin long after I left the dinner table. And I was okay with that. It was that scent that I had been finding comfort in since I was a child. “Just keep being his friend. Keep encouraging him. It’s not complicated. Trust me. It’s all the help he needs.”

Nodding, I did trust Mom. Something about the passion in which she spoke told me that she knew what she was talking about. And it made me wonder if there was a time in Mom’s life when she needed a friend. When she needed someone to help her. Mom didn’t talk much about her past. I knew my parents met in college, and Dad had regaled me with stories of his high school football years. But now that I thought about it, Mom never shared stories of her high school experiences. I never pondered it before because it didn’t seem to matter. Besides, Mom was one of those women who believed in living in the moment, so it always made sense to me. However, now I was curious, and wondered if there were other reasons she’d never talked about it.