I consider what I’d need to do to make that work. Income is going to be our biggest obstacle. Allie has a job. And she got a trust fund from her bio dad the day she turned eighteen, so rent has never been an issue. I don’t have that. I’ll need to get a job to support my family, but where will I find the time between classes and football? I can work nights maybe, but juggling a job, school and practice and game days will make spending time with them that much more difficult.
Shit. No matter how I look at this, it’s a fucking mess. My scholarship covers room and board in the dorms, but they’re not co-ed and no way will the university let me waltz my girl and kid in. I suck on my teeth. I need to come up with something. I don’t have any other choice.
* * *
Game day rituals are a must.We all have our things and I stick to mine like a religion, only today I’m off and I know exactly why. Bibiana. Coach goes on about what we’re here to do but I tune most of it out. Since the Devils are the reigning state champs, the game is taking place on our field. This should be a big deal. I promised myself this year would be all about football. But all I can think about is the fact that Bibiana is going out to a party. With Kasey, of all people, which means those girls are going to get into trouble. Even with Allie around no way are they going to be on good behavior. And the last time Bibiana went to a party—that dress…
Dominque slams the locker door beside me jerking me from my thoughts. “Get your head in the game, man.”
I suck on my palerindas and flip my friend off before turning to Rome.
“How are you dealing with this?” I ask him.
He doesn’t bother pretending like he doesn’t know exactly what I’m talking about. “I know my girl isn’t interested in anyone else’s dick. Not much to worry about.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’d be more worried if she were here.”
I nod because yeah, Allie and football games don’t mix. “Any news?” I ask. I’ve been out of the loop and haven’t wanted to bring the matter up with Bibiana.
He nods. “Fucker's days are numbered. He made bail but he is also accepting the deal. He has until next Friday to surrender himself.”
“How long?” The longer the better, as far as I’m concerned.
Roman pushes to his feet, keeping his voice down so Coach doesn’t lose focus. He’s on the whole this-game-can-change-your-lives, so-don’t-fuck-up roll. It’s his shit way of motivating us and scaring the underclassmen.
“He’ll do six years minimum even if he gets parole.” His jaw clenches.
“You’re obviously not happy about that.”
“Would you be?”
I shake my head. “Hell, no. I wouldn’t be happy until the fucker was six feet in the ground if he did that to my girl.”
“Agreed. But he gave up the other guy. He’s looking at three years, so at least Allie will get some time to… fuck. I don’t know. Breathe.”
“Three? That’s it?”
Roman nods. “Crimes of sexual assault come with the least severe punishment. It’s a bullshit system if you ask me, but my pops says it’s the best we’re gonna get unless Allie wants to go to trial.”
“Fuck that,” Dominique barks and Coach turns to look at us. We draw back further into the locker room.
“I know. I’m not putting her through that.”
“I thought the rape charges couldn’t stick. How is this guy getting three years—”
“Because he confessed. They won’t stick to Miguel because we have no proof, but when they dragged in the other guy, some William Chaiton or some shit, they told him Miguel flipped on him and he told them everything.” He exhales a harsh breath. “He told them every goddamn twisted detail and we can’t use any of it to nail Miguel because the deal’s already been signed.
I push my sucker to my cheek. “Fuck, man. That’s rough.”
None of us say anything after that. The situation is a dumpster fire. Our system is broken and the fact that two asshole rapists are getting off so easy makes me sick to my stomach. I’m glad they got Miguel for something, even if it wasn’t for the rape, but it’s still bullshit.
Coach blows his whistle, and we all grab our gear, heading for the doors. Dominique slaps my shoulder, his voice grim as he says, “Focus on getting through the game, kicking their asses, and then we’ll go collect what’s ours from the party.”
I lift a brow in silent question. Ours. Really? We making confessions now?
Dom’s jaw locks tight and he gives me a stiff nod, refusing to say anything else as we spill onto the field. Well, isn’t that interesting.
Twenty-seven
Allie picked me up and we dropped Luis off at Monique’s before going to Kasey’s to get ready.
