Kalen won’t be mad, will he?
Dots pop up to tell me she’s typing, and then her next text pops up on my screen.
Of course he will. That’s the whole fun of it.
BASH
Down here on the field, everything feels more intense, and I enjoy that part of the game. But really, the only thing I care about is seeing my girl over on the side, wearing my jersey and cheering for me to win this fucker for her.
But so far there’s no sign of her, and that’s more agitating than I want to admit. If she backs out, and I don’t get to see her during the game, I’m going to beat the fuck out of Jeremy. He isn’t at fault, he was just annoying me in the locker room so that feels fair.
The ball lands in my hands, and I drive forward immediately, tucking it tight against my ribs as I push through a wall of opposing jerseys. Someone grabs my shoulder, but I twist free, lowering my center of gravity as I power through. For a split second, the line breaks open in front of me, and I sense the crowd of students jump to their feet as I take off down the sideline.
I should be so hyped up right now, but even as I sprint, something inside me is off. My eyes flick instinctively toward the stands.
Searching for the only person I want to see.
She should be here.
She promised, and I know she wouldn’t break a promise if something wasn’t wrong.
I push the thought aside and focus on the play. The coach is cool, but he’s probably not going to be if I walk off the field mid-game to go find my girl. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do if I can’t find her. At the last second, I pass the ball off to my teammate charging up beside me. The impact hits me a split second later, someone drives a shoulder straight into my ribs and sends me crashing into the dirt.
The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. A pile of bodies, the heaviest motherfuckers on the planet apparently, follows before the whistle finally blows and the ref waves everyone back.
I push myself up off the grass, mud clinging to my jersey as the teams reset.
Across the field, shoulders lock together and the next play forms, muscles straining as players brace for impact. When the whistle blows again, the line surges forward, and the sound of the collision echoes across the stadium.
There’s something about rugby that makes everything feel more brutal than hockey. And I make a mental note to give my twin brother shit about it the next time I see him.
He’s been slow to answer his texts lately, which isn’t uncommon. He’s got his girl, Winter, stuck to him like glue, so I’m sure he’s happier than he’s ever been in his life.
I shove forward with the rest of my team, teeth gritted as we fight for ground. The ball changes hands twice before we break through the defensive line and push toward the try line again.
The crowd explodes when we score.
My teammates clap my back as we jog back into position, but my attention drifts again.
My eyes scan the stands.
Still no Livy.
A knot forms slowly in my chest.
The next play starts, and I throw myself back into it, tackling one of their forwards hard enough that we both go down in the grass. The whistle blows and the teams reset again, but my focus keeps slipping.
Every time I look up I’m searching the same section of the stands.
Looking for blonde hair.
I scan farther across the stadium, letting my gaze sweep the other sections.
Riven isn’t there, and neither is his wife. She was supposed to be getting ready for the game with Livy and the other girls. That alone steadies something in my chest.
If something had actually happened to Livy, Riven would have already let me know. He wouldn’t fuck shit up with Caiden for any reason, so none of this makes sense.
I’ve gotta get out of here. I’ve gotta get eyes on her and make sure she’s okay.
