It was the deep, primitive lizard brain that raised the alarm, sensing something that my overworked rational mind was unable to process under the weight of the buried emotions. There was a pinch at my neck.
My eyes snapped open wide, and I tried to scream. But the world faded quickly to black, exhaustion pulling me under to the inevitable tug of sleep. The last thing I saw was two pinpricks of darkness, glittering down at me with a terrible promise that all was not forgiven.
Chapter 16 – Vincenzo – The Past
Iknew walking onto a new field would feel like stepping into enemy territory. Thirty pairs of eyes tracked me like I was fresh meat. My smirk told them everything they needed to know. I was here to win—to prove I belonged on the team.
Coach Harvy blew the whistle before anyone could engage with me. “Warm-up laps! Move your asses!”
Everyone launched forward. The turf was hot enough to scorch skin, the kind that made our cleats stick for half a second before releasing with a rip. Guys were cracking jokes between breaths—half of them about the quarterback’s “tragic” haircut, half about the sophomore who puked during summer camp and hadn’t lived it down.
Most were making comments about the cheerleaders.
We passed their practice. Blondes, brunettes, and one redhead were stretching in a cohesive unit. It was the golden-haired one my gaze raked over. She hinged at the waist, hands touching the ground without a bend in the knee.
“Hey, new kid,” someone called beside me, matching my pace. “You fast?”
I shrugged, keeping my breath even. “Fast enough.”
He snorted. “We’ll see.”
We did. Fast enough turned into me passing him on lap two, and the guy behind him, and then the entire pack until it was just me in front, hearing muttered comments.
“Who the hell is this dude?”
“Nah, man, he’s not a freshman—look at him.”
The cheerleaders were starting their combinations by the time we entered the middle of the field. I felt chilly blue eyes drift over us, but every time I looked, I couldn’t catch her gaze.
Warm-upsrolled into form drills. The air smelled like sweat and wet grass and maybe a hint of ego. The bodies here were loud: shoulder pads colliding, curse words flying, grunts echoing like we were in some medieval battlefield cosplay.
Coach Harvy pointed at me. “Messina, you’re with the O-line for sleds. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Great. Trial by fire.
This is what I’m here for.
Football at a good school, a full ride to college, and then…the kind of future where I could step up and easily claim her as mine. A simple plan. While some might call it a fool’s dream, I was living proof that it was possible.
The linemen—all mountains with legs—looked me over like I was a toothpick someone accidentally stuck in their group.
One guy with a neck thicker than my torso laughed. “New kid’s gonna break.”
I grinned back. “Only thing breaking today is that sled.”
He raised a brow, like boldness was either admirable or punishable by death.
Coach blew the whistle. I dropped into a low stance. Everything tightened—shoulders, core, jaw. The grass was damp under my fingertips.
“DRIVE!”
I slammed into the pad. The impact knocked the breath out of me, but adrenaline shoved it right back in. The sled groaned forward. Five—six—seven feet. Maybe more. When I stepped back, the linemen weren’t laughing anymore.
Someone muttered, “Shit…okay.”
The scrimmage was where everything shifted. Helmets on, mouthguards in, the whole world shrunk until it was just the thud of cleats on turf. I shook my body, ready to show why I belonged here. While we lined up for the first play, the guys around me were running their mouths. Half trash talk, half stupidity.
“Ten bucks says Jenna dumps Tyler by Homecoming.”
