"He's not gonna talk to you after his fucking daughter died!" Braden yells.
"What's going on?" I hear Trystan say.
"The bitch's parents are suing the school if they don't drop me from the team."
"No shit?" Trystan says. "Like immediately?"
"It's not fucking happening," Braden says as something else slams against the wall.
"Braden, stop it!" Brock yells. "That belonged to your mother."
"My mother's dead to me. We shouldn't even have her shit in the house."
"She's not dead to me," Trystan says, sounding angry. "Break another one of her things and I'll break your fucking face!"
"Boys!" Brock yells. "Braden, put the gun down!"
"Shit." Jackson runs to the door and opens it. "Braden."
Braden whips around to Jackson, a gun in his hand, ready to shoot.
"Jackson, no!" I yell.
"Stay in there," he says before shutting my door.
I don't want to, but I do, because being out there right now will only make things worse. Braden has already hit his threshold for anger. If he has a gun, it means he's lost it. He's out of control. Seeing me out there with Jackson will only make it worse. Just seeing Jackson alone will make it worse, so what is he doing? Why didn't he stay in my room?
"Braden, put the gun down," Jackson says in a calm steady voice.
"Don't tell me what to do, you fucker!" Braden yells. "If anyone should be suspended from the game, it should be you! You're the one who killed her! And then you killed Kristen! Where's your fucking suspension?"
"I AM suspended," Jackson says. "Coach left me a message. I can't play in next week's game."
"That's it? I'm out for the fucking season!"
"Only if they decide not to fight the lawsuit. You really think that'll happen?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"You really think they'd risk losing their best player over some frivolous lawsuit?"
"He's right," Brock says. "The lawsuit is simply a scare tactic. Andrea's parents are hoping the school will comply with their demands but they have no reason to do so. It's a private school. They can do as they please. They don't have to suspend you from playing because of an investigation into something you haven't even been charged with."
"He's right," Jackson says. "If the school gave in, it'd send a message to other parents that they can get what they want by threatening a lawsuit. Principal Edwards won't let that happen, especially if he has the support of the parents, which he will because they all want you to play. They want to win."
The room gets quiet.
"Braden, put the gun down," Jackson says. "C'mon, man. You're worrying about nothing. This lawsuit isn't going anywhere. You'll still be playing on Friday."
I wish I could see what was happening. I'm so worried for Jackson, I'm shaking. Braden was pointing the gun right at him. He could've shot him. Killed him.
"I fucking hate you," Braden says, his tone lighter than before.
"I'm okay with that," Jackson says with a laugh. "I hate you too."
I slowly open the door and see Brock is now holding the gun. Trystan is beside him, his jaw dropped, his eyes bouncing between Braden and Jackson. Braden is in front of his brother, facing Jackson, who is still right in front of my door.
Braden's eyes dart to me, then back to Jackson. "I'm getting out of here."
