Searching.
I wonder if he’s looking for me.
Halfway through the second quarter, Jace materializes out of the chaos and plants a hand on the back of a freshman’s seat.The seat next to Lola.
“Move.”
The kid scrambles so fast he nearly trips over his own feet.
“Charming,” Lola mutters as Jace drops into the empty spot next to her.
He flashes that grin that has never once apologized for anything.“You love it.”
“I really don’t,” she says, rolling her eyes so much it could count as cardio.“You’re mean to literally everyone.”
Jace leans back, stretches his arm along the bleacher behind her, claiming the space without touching her.“You’re not everyone.”
“Still mean,” she replies, holding out the packet of Sour Patch Kids.
He glances at it, then at her.His smile slows, and he leans in close, voice dropping just enough to feel deliberate.“You’re saying you don’t want me to be?”
Lola snorts.“I’m saying you’d implode if you tried being nice for more than five minutes.”
He plucks a candy from the packet anyway before saying, “Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got you to keep me honest.”
Liz nearly chokes on her drink.She leans in, eyes wide, and speaks softly so only I can hear.“I don’t know what the fuck is going on between those two, but if they flirt any harder, I’m calling a medic.”
Jace doesn’t blink; he simply chews slowly.“You’re always feeding me, Bells.”
“It’s Bellamy, dickhead,” Lola snorts.“Try not to choke on your own ego.Although...honestly, you might be doing us all a favor.”
Jace smirks, eyes locked on her with a quiet, cocky intensity that makes the air around them tighten.He says nothing, but his gaze isn’t casual.It’s the look guys get when they’ve already decided something’s theirs.
I glance at Lola.She’s rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath, but there’s a faint flush on her cheeks that wasn’t there before.
And I can’t help but wonder if she’s about to become his next conquest.
Third quarter drags into the fourth, and Reece remains a relentless machine.His defense never pauses.His legs keep pushing, body tense and fierce, hunting anything foolish enough to cross his path.He appears unstoppable.
And then, the world snaps.
One second, he’s tearing downfield, all cocky power and sharp precision, focus locked in as if the world doesn’t exist beyond the end zone.A damn weapon in motion.
Next, he’s blindsided.Helmet to ribs, full force, savage and sudden.No time to brace or roll.Just a sickening thud as his body twists, all that power suddenly helpless.
He hits the ground and the world shifts.
Everything goes silent, brutal, and wrong.There are no whistles, no cheers—just this fucked-up quiet that amplifies the panic.
Reece is down.
Not moving.Not even a twitch.
My lungs can’t function.My throat feels like a clenched fist, and my chest caves in.I can’t breathe, think, or do anything except stare at where he’s sprawled, motionless.
Liz’s nails bite into my arm.“Shit,” she says, barely a whisper, but it cuts across my nerves like a blade.
Jace jumps to his feet immediately.Lola grabs his arm, with knuckles white and eyes riveted to the field.
