“It’s alcohol. It killed all the germs in my mouth.”
“I still don’t want your spit in my mouth.”
“No?” He smiles, looking meaner somehow. “But Archangel’s is okay?”
“He can spit in my mouth if he wants, yours is a violation of my person.” I use the napkin to wipe off my tongue, getting little bits of paper all over it. “Fuck.” I take his drink and pour some in my mouth, then swish it around and spit it into an empty cup.
“But drinking my backwash is okay? I’ve basically spit in your mouth twice now.”
“Fuck you and your mother!” I take my drink and stomp off toward Archangel to figure out what we are going to do.
I force my way between him and the guy, who seems put out—good—and put an arm around Archangel’s shoulders.
He turns slightly into me. “Why does your skin smell like beer?”
“I rubbed some on my face…but don’t mind that. Mark told the team, and Ridgeway knows.”
“Why did you rub vodka on your… Wait what?” Archangel’s eyes flash to mine.
“Mark told his team, and they were making comments to the guys. Ridgeway just asked me about it.”
“Fuck.”
“I told you!”
SEVENTEEN
ARCHANGEL
“What the fuck is he going to do?”
Wolfe shrugs.
“What did he say? How did he seem?” My brain is going a million miles a minute, but with the haze from the alcohol, I can’t fully process or think through what we should be doing.
“You know how Ridgeway is. He’s a loose cannon. No one can predict how he’s going to act about anything.” Wolfe has a point, but it doesn’t make me like it anymore.
“Does anyone else know?”
Wolfe shrugs again.
“Fuck.” I press my thumbs to my eyes, trying to keep it together in front of the rest of the guys.
Big hands press into both my biceps, but his physical presence gives me more relief than he knows. “It’s going to be okay. I have you.”
“It could affect everything.” I barely manage to get the words out. I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard, but I just keep seeing his future crumbling and it being all my fault.
“Breathe. Please don’t worry about it.”
But I can’t stop.
He rubs my arms. “Want to leave?”
I swallow back everything I’m feeling and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
I go homefor three days for Thanksgiving, and Wolfe and I seem weird, but it’s worse when I come back. He spent it with his father and stepmother, like usual, but I can’t figure out why he’s acting the way he is. With finals and practice leading into the semester break, we don’t have time to talk until we’re on our way to our next game.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, taking a seat next to him on the plane.
