Once Henry has a secure grip, he pulls the ball back sharply while shifting his body weight to the side, lifting the ball from the ground and knocking Brock off balance. This opens a pathway for Henry to sprint away, and we spring into action, the crowd erupting in cheers and boos, depending on who they are rooting for.
Summerview’s defense converges on Henry and he scans the area, looking for the opening. His eyes lock on me and he passes the ball. I flick my net, catching it easily as someone crashes into my side, attempting to knock me off balance. But I’m able to stay upright, thanks to some quick footwork.
Brock's eyes lock with mine as he sneers at me. I manage to skillfully weave around him while keeping the ball tight in my stick as I make my way toward the crease. We need a win.
As I prepare to shoot, Brock lunges in with a desperate check, narrowly missing my stick but making solid contact with my shoulder. The crowd gasps as the ball flies out of my stick, bouncing dangerously near the crease. But Ford’s on it, quickly scooping it up and tossing it toward the net. All mouths are open, waiting to see if he makes it in.
Score! We’re tied.
Brock doesn’t stop his onslaught slamming into my back this time, hitting me hard enough I stumble, falling to my knee. I feel his presence hovering over me as I catch my breath.
“Too bad you didn’t stay at our school, Stoll. Maybe you could have had your little crush’s pussy and not me,” he growls as he bursts out in laughter.
What is he talking about? I stand up slowly, glaring at him as I furrow my brow. Did I hear him right? Did he hit me so hard my mind’s all jumbled?
“Awww, didn’t you know, Jacob? Did she not tell you? I fucked Dylan. You remember her, right? The girl you followed around like a lovesick puppy dog. I wonder whatever happened to her, anyway?”
He fucked her? Where is she? Doesn’t he know? I would have thought a girl playing on the team would be known at all the schools by now. It’s not like it's not major news. Especially on the collegiate level. Good, I wanna keep it that way. But is this why Pickle is being so weird? Is she worried that we’ll be mad that she hooked up with Brock? I mean I thought she had better taste than that, but we can chalk it up to being young and dumb.
“Fuck off, Brock. Dylan wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot pole. She has better taste than to waste her time on a lowlifelike you.” I turn, done with him, heading back down the field, ready for the next play to begin.
I hear his footfalls as he jogs up beside me, bumping into my shoulder in a neanderthal move.
“That’s where you’re wrong. She begged for me. Dylan practically threw herself at me until I took her virginity. Know what’s better, though? Once I was done with her, I shared her around like leftovers with the rest of the team. She was a bit of a wet fish in bed, but she sure knew how to suck a dick. Too bad she’s not here to give me some head when we win. Maybe she’s gotten better in bed.”
My vision turns red as he takes another shot, knocking me off balance. I flip my body around in an instant, knocking him to the ground. I’ll take the lecture and penalty, but no one is taking shots at my girl.
In a flash, chaos ensues, as players from both teams dive in to defend their teammates. Bodies collide, sticks clash, and voices rise in a cacophony of shouts and calls. The referee's whistle pierces the chaos, signaling a penalty. Tempers flare as players exchange heated words, until the coaches come onto the field, taking control of their players.
Brock just gazes at me, laughter filling the air, knowing that he’s gotten the best of me. He achieved exactly what he wanted, and I played into his game.
Each team regroups, the adrenaline pulsing through the air, setting the stage for the next pivotal moment in this fierce battle on the field. I’ve got to get my head on straight. It’s the last time he’ll get the best of me and we will win this game, knocking his ego boost down a level.
Then and only then will I talk to Dylan about what he’s said.
Chapter 42
Matthew
We win, but barely. One point. That’s not us—not Ford, not Dylan, not Jacob. The entire game felt off. Passes weren’t as clean, communication was scattered, and every time I looked at Dylan, she seemed somewhere else. Even Ford, who’s usually rock solid, was distracted. Something’s up, and I’m going to figure out what.
As we start to cool down, Dylan pulls off her helmet, her hair sticking to her face, drenched in sweat. She wipes at her forehead, her eyes scanning the field, but I can see it—the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her posture. She’s rattled.
Before I can head over, a player from the other team charges straight at her. "What the fuck? You can't be on the team. This is a men’s league." His voice is loud, too loud, and it draws the attention of everyone on the field.
Dylan freezes, her expression locking into that deer-in-the-headlights look. She’s been playing as the only girl on a teamfor a while now, and while she’s used to the occasional asshole making comments, this feels different. There’s something in the way she tenses up, something in the air between her and this guy. He stops in front of her, chest puffed out, like he’s trying to intimidate her.
Before I can step in, Henry shoves the guy back. “Ease up, dude! There’s nothing saying she can’t play, so deal with it.”
“Bullshit!” the guy—Brock, I think his name is—fires back, shoving Henry in return. My blood starts to boil.
“Hey, break it up!” Woosley’s there, grabbing Henry and pulling him back. His voice is low and controlled.
I step in too, glaring at Brock. “Johnson, get back to your team. My captain’s right—Murphy can play as long as she earned her spot, same as everyone else. She did. The end. Go on back to your side now.”
But Brock doesn’t back off. His eyes flick over to Dylan, and then to Jacob, his lips curling into a sneer. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds, Stoll. Or is she Henry’s? She always did love a captain.”
Something snaps inside me. “Hey!” I bark, taking a step forward, my pulse spiking. “Get your ass back to your team, or you’re outta here.”
