Students of the Game (20 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-
NINE

BRYCE

I curse out loud, park behind his empty car, and quietly exit the Jeep. This is wrong. Something is wrong. Every fiber of my body can sense it. Jogging up the stairs to the pathway, I squeeze my hands into fists, and start to feel the adrenaline plotting its course through my insides. When I reach the front door, I lift the brass handle, but it’s locked. I curse again, then remember that the library has a rear entrance too.

I quickly make my way around the side of the building. The exterior lighting sheds a dim orange glow, and my vision easily adjusts to the darkness. When I turn the corner I take in a multitude of information in a blink of an eye. It’s like dancing in the backfield, trying to absorb every player’s situation at once, and figure out wh
ere I can safely move the ball…all in a matter of seconds. I see the parked green Jetta, the only car in the lot. I see Joy pressed up against it, and I see Carver on top of her.

His back is towards me and he’s got Joy penned against the driver’s side of the car. He has something wrapped around her neck to choke her and is pressing on it to make it even tighter. She tries to yell but it’s a struggle for her to even breathe. Still holding her with his left hand, he uses the other to undo his belt, but this doesn’t make me loose it.

I’ve already lost it.

By now I’ve already run halfway across the parking lot.

Carver doesn’t see me coming. I bulldoze into him. My hat goes flying off, and we both fall to the ground. He grunts as his head hits the pavement and is momentarily stunned. I try to quickly get up on top of him, but he shakes me off, managing to roll free. We both get up, and he wastes no time coming at me. I’ve underestimated this guy, obviously not afraid of a fight, even though he’s clearly over matched. He throws a punch and hits me in the cheekbone. I stumble back, and Carver laughs, “Not quite as big and tough as everyone thinks, huh?”

“Try it again, asshole!” I yell and charge. Managing to grab him by the shirt, I shove him into the side of Joy’s car with a thud, as she leaps out of the way. He breaks the hold of my right hand, and gives me an encore punch that hits me between the eyes. I can feel a trickling faucet of warm blood, exude from my nose.

“Aw, sorry to screw up your pretty face,” Carver spits with sarcasm. “The girls won’t like that, now will they? I know Missy wouldn’t.”

“Is that wha
t this is about, the thing with Missy?” I exclaim, backing away from him. Glancing over at Joy, I can tell she’s in shock, her mouth is open in a silent scream and her hands are at her neck.

“It’s about everything!” he yells. “Everything that you are, that I’m supposed to be!”

So that’s it, jealousy. The girls, football, popularity…trivial things that seemingly equal success. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember a conversation with Carver from freshman year, about never being good enough. Are these the things he desires to make him that way, or his father? I don’t know the answer and I’m not about to ask. None of that stuff matters to me. What matters is the reason I came here.
To tell Joy…

Carver interrupts my thoughts by charging at me and going for the trifecta, but I juke left, and he misses. Not expecting the sudden movement, he’s caught off guard and I see my chance. I
refuse to let him win this meaningless game. I move in and give him a left handed uppercut in the side, then use my right to get him square in the face. He falls and I straddle him. I punch him again and again, turning his white t-shirt pink with bloody splatter. He laughs with a thick red smile, and I punch him some more.

Joy starts screaming, “Stop! Stop!”

Suddenly a bright light to the face disrupts my vision and I’m forced to do exactly that. A police cruiser comes to an abrupt halt, and an officer jumps out of the car. “Stop what you’re doing immediately! Get down on the ground and put your hands up!”

I automatically do as I’m told, and all I can think is,
how did this go wrong?

So unbelievably wrong.

CHAPTER FIFTY

JOY

Standing in front of my dresser, I look at my neck. The red has now faded to an even less attractive purple. As I grab a scarf, I laugh at the irony of using the very same thing to cover the marks that helped cause them in the first place. Only that one was hounds tooth.

I make my way downstairs and find my mom on the couch, working on a design project. Fabric swatches are spread acro
ss the coffee table and when Mom sees me, she puts down the material she’s been holding and gives me a sad smile. “You slept all day. Are you feeling alright today?”

“Yeah, much better, I was just really tired.” I say a silent prayer that she’ll believe it and give me the OK to head back to school soon. It’s been almost a week since the assault and I just want to move past it and focus on more important things, like schoolwork and my friends.

“I talked to Hank this afternoon,” my mom tells me, apparently satisfied with my answer. “You really should go see Bryce. I have a feeling he needs you right now.”

“What did Mr. Colton say, any news about Bryce’s scholarship?” I ask eagerly.

“I don’t know, honey,” she frowns, and I can tell she’s lying.

In what kind of sickening story does the hero lose everything, and the bad guy gets away with it all? The real life kind. Carver Halsey gets a restraining order and a slap on the wrist, because his dad’s a cop. It’s kind of ironic. The very person Carver has been rebelling against all these years, is the one to bail him out.

Ms. Anderson, if you decide not to press charges against my son, we won’t take action against Mr. Colton. You wouldn’t want to see this kind of thing tarnish his reputation now would you?

No, of course not.

I also wouldn’t want to see anyone else get hurt, emotionally or physically, by his sociopathic son. Part of me feels guilty about my decision, but I can only hope that a karma scarf will ring his own neck and his dad won’t able to loosen the thread. I just pray that no one else gets hurt in the crossfire. I’ve had the wonderful support of my mom and Devon, as well as the Colton’s. Seth is Bryce’s number one fan now, and Farah…well Farah is stuck in a dark well, treading water until she accepts the help to get out. I know she cares and has even been able to call once from the rehab center to see how I’ve been doing, but feeling guilty, I tried to turn the conversation back to her.

“You got a letter from Madison earlier today.” My mom hands me a thick envelope and I know from experience that it’s an acceptance letter, and from one of the state colleges here in Massachusetts. “It’s probably the last one, you’ve heard from all the other’s right?”

I nod, and silently open the envelope. “I got in,” I say flatly.

“Congratulations!” 

“Mom, seriously? Did you forget I’m going to Brown?”

She looks hurt. “Even so, it’s still a big deal, Joy. I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked and I’m sure you’ll work equally as hard to get through things now.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I toss the letter down on the coffee table and give her a hug. “I guess I’ll head over to see Bryce now.”

Since I seem to be so good at it, I’m sure he could use help working through things too.

            
I call his cell, but there’s no answer. I don’t even bother driving to his house. I know he’s not there. Without a second thought, I drive straight to the football field. The lot is completely deserted, except for an empty black Jeep Wrangler with the top off, and a
Virgina Is For Lovers
sticker on the rear bumper. 

The sun has begun to set, and creates a non-fictional display of calmness upon what I know to be the farthest thing from the truth. I park next to his car, and cut the engine. Then I make my way over to the bleachers where Bryce is sitting alone, his head down in between his hands. “Hey,” I say, cautiously approaching him. He looks up and if he’s surprised to see me he doesn’t show it. “What’s going on?” I ask and sit down by his side.

“I lost the scholarship,” he says bluntly. “Principle Barnes said because it happened off school property, they wouldn’t expel me, but since the cops were involved, VT had to be notified. Apparently that kind of behavior won’t fly with them.”

“Oh God. Bryce, I’m so sorry-” I try to console him, but he cuts me off.

“No, please don’t apologize, Joy. Don’t apologize for anything.” He runs both his hands through his hair then shakes his head. “I
needed
to be there for you. You have no idea how much regret I’ve felt all these years, not being there when you were grieving for your father. I was a coward. I was afraid I’d lose my own dad, and lost you instead.” His eyes melt with sadness and I have to look away. It hurts me just as much to see the amount of pain he’s feeling.

By now, the sun has almost completely passed beyond the margins of the field. I can
still feel the remainder of its presence, radiating off the metal seat beneath me. Spring peepers begin to sing in harmony, a blended serenade of love, loss, and hope. It’s a song which only those needing to hear, actually listen to.

He sacrificed everything for me.
All that time I spent judging and assuming…he was trying to prove me wrong. If only I had allowed myself to feel, what in my heart I knew was the truth.

I love him.

I don’t know if those words will make everything better and I turn back to him, searching his eyes for an answer. “So what happens now?”

“Well, Coach M. has done a lot of talking to Madison State and they don’t care about the fight. Not sure if that’s a good thing or bad,” he shrugs, “but I’ll still get to play football. My dad’s happy about that, but not about the fact we’ll have to pay tuition.” He manages to smile, “But the best part about it though, is that I won’t be too far away from you.”

I grab his hand as gears start turning in my head. “I got accepted there, too.”

“What? No, Joy. You’re going to Brown,” he says firmly. “I can’t let you make that sacrifice.”

I shrug and slowly start to smile. “It’s only fair. You did it for me.” 

As if on cue, a mass of synchronized sprinklers pop up from the ground and kick on. An elegant spray dances before us, offering an open invitation to join in. Bryce grins and pulls me up from the bleachers, dragging me out onto the field which has suddenly become an oversized welcome mat. We run, and laugh, freely. Forgetting all the bullshit, for a moment we are kids again, running through the sprinkler in my backyard. The lights flicker on dimly over the field, and I shriek as the cold water hits my bare arms. It starts to soak through my clothes and I yank off my water logged scarf, tossing it as far as I can manage. I picture it as a foam football, sailing out of sight in a perfect spiral.

When we reach the middle of the field, Bryce pulls me down into the soft wet grass. He lightly pens me to the ground
. And instead of placing a clump of spongy turf on my head, he leans down with his mouth inches from mine. “I love you, Joy. I always have. That night at the library, I was coming to tell you that.” Bryce looks me directly in the eye, “Loosing that scholarship is nothing compared to loosing you again.”

He kisses me softly on the lips and I realize that the hero
didn’t
lose everything. Bryce won me back. He was the one from my dream, turning my rose to white, reaching out to me with his everlasting love. I just had to give it time to realize that I felt the same way.

The water casts a fine mist, creating millions of tiny droplets, which twinkle like every star that’s ever been wished upon. “I love you, too,” I say, realizing those magic words
will
make everything right. He kisses me again, and I know even though there’s still so much to worry about, one of those things won’t be him leaving and never coming back.

         The End

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Special thanks to Robin Ludwig for the amazing cover art.     

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

Continue the Students of the Game Series, with book #2

 
    PLAYING FOR KEEPS

    
(e-book available at Amazon.com)

       Follow Joy and Bryce as they embark on the journey to college together and find out if their relationship can withstand unexpected challenges. Will Bryce be able to hold on to what he fought so hard for? Or will there be a mysterious new player in the game fighting for Joy’s affection…        

       
…
We made love. Though I’m not sure I can even call it that. It was more. It was as if every wonderful sensation that lay dormant within me all those years, decided to wake up at the same time, and jump on the buoyant mattress of my heart. I should be enveloping myself around the warmth of her body, nestling my face into the flowery scent of her hair. I should be reliving the moment over and over in my mind, but I can’t…all I feel is remorse…