A light turns on.
“What’s going on in here?” Brock appears in his robe.
“Braden’s trying to attack me,” I say.
“You’re the one holding the fucking weapon,” Braden says, pointing to the marble bookend in my hands.
Brock comes over and takes the bookend from me, setting it on the shelf. “Would one of you tell me what’s going on?”
Braden glares at me, his arms crossed. “She’s a fucking traitor.”
“What is he talking about?” Brock asks me.
“He doesn’t approve of who I’m dating,” I say, glaring back at Braden. “Even though it’s none of his damn business.”
“Who are you dating?” Brock asks.
“Novak,” Braden answers. “She’s been fucking Novak this whole time and lying to us.”
Brock turns to me. “Is that true?”
“I met him when I was out walking one day. We got to be friends and then . . . it became more.”
“She’s been fucking spying on us,” Braden says to his dad. “That’s why she wanted to sit at my table. To get shit on the team she could go tell Novak.”
“What would I tell him?” I toss my hands up. “I don’t know anything about football. When you guys are talking about it, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t tell Novak what you heard, you little bitch.” He reaches for me, but Brock stands in his way.
“Braden! Keep your hands off her!”
“She’s working for fucking Novak!” he yells.
“I’m notworkingfor him — I’mdatinghim. I don’t care about your stupid football games. I hate sports.” I put my hands on my hips. “What about Kristen? She was with Jackson. They’re still friends. And you don’t seem to have a problem with her sitting at your table, listening to all your secrets. You even let her come to the house last night.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“You really think she wants you back? She’s using you, Braden, just like she uses everyone else. If anyone’s a traitor, it’s Kristen, not me.”
“Okay, both of you, quiet down,” Brock says.
“Dad, she’s—”
“Quiet!” Brock yells at Braden. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I need to sleep so I’ll be rested for my read-through.I amnotgoing to lose this role because my son couldn’t keep quiet.”
“You’re worried about some fucking role?” Braden points to me. “Football is my fucking life and she’s trying to destroy it!”
“I wasn’t trying to destroy it.”
“You’re done with Novak,” Braden yells at me. “You even talk to him I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing!” Brock grabs Braden’s arm and yanks on it, his eyes darkening. “You stay the fuck away from Novak. You hear me? You don’t touch him. You don’t talk to him. You don’t threaten him. You stay away from him.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Braden yells, trying to yank his arm back. “You’re seriously taking Novak’s side over mine?”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side. I will deal with this myself. All you’ll do is create more problems.” He gets in Braden’s face. “If you, or any of your friends, do anything to Novak — and I meananything— you will be living with your mother for the rest of the year. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Braden mutters, his eyes on the floor.
