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“Trace…”

“No!” He slapped the desk, making his books bounce. “I came to you and admitted that I screwed up. I begged for your help, and what did I get? You slammed the door in my face after burning the only other chance I had left. You chose to watch me fail, and now you want what? I’m not going to give you a front-row seat to my demise.”

His words stung. I didn’t know why I treated him the way I did, but I suspected it had everything to do with the way I felt when he kissed me and then refused to fight me when I brought it up. I wanted him to feel what I felt that day on the field, but I never wanted to make him think I wouldn’t help. Because I was so fucking proud of him for choosing to do things the right way.

However, his reaction now made me wonder if I might’ve made a mistake. Maybe I had pushed him too far with my behavior, and maybe that day on the field was also my fault. He did exactly what I told him to, and I was using it against him without looking at things from his perspective. What if he was just respecting my wishes and then I decided to spit in his face by refusing to help?

“I know that one brain cell of yours is under a lot of strain right now, but I need you to stop being a douche and accept the help I’m offering. So shut the fuck up and move the hell over so I can try to give you a chance at a passing grade.”

24

Trace

It was the day of our big game against the Mariners. A bittersweet event. I had seen my test score just after waking up, but I also had so much energy that Coach could run a small town with the overflow.

This felt like the kind of game I’d signed up for. They had made fun of the guys last year, so it was our chance to reclaim our reputation and show them what we were really made of.

And I wanted to be on the front line when we did it.

I was in the locker room early, prepping for what was to come, and it wasn’t long before the guys joined in. But when Dylan walked through the door, my mood dropped instantly.

“Hey, Trace, I was wondering if we could talk?” The room went quiet.

I wanted to refuse, considering what happened between us the last time he spoke, but then I met Ethan’s gaze and I knew I couldn’t back down. I was the substitute and Dylan was the star. He was bound to return at some point, and that wasn’t something I could ignore. I just hoped he wouldn’t give me another black eye.

Dylan and I stepped into the hallway, and I took a deep breath before facing him. “How are you doing, man?”

“I’m good. The doctor said I’ve made a full recovery. I’m ready to return to the field.” He gave me an awkward smile. “I also wanted to say sorry about the fight. You didn’t deserve the brunt of my anger, and I don’t want a grudge between us to harm the team. Those guys don’t belong to either of us and they don’t need to suffer because of us either.”

“It’s all good, man. I get it. You were hurt and felt like you were being replaced. It’s normal to act out, so there was never a grudge on my side. I know what my place on the team is, and I’m happy with it.”

The words felt like barbed wire in my mouth. Doing the right thing and being gracious about it sucked big time.

“That’s good news, and I’m really happy you’re the one who kept my spot safe for me,” he said. “But I think I’m going to talk to Coach and take the starting position for this game. If that’s okay with you?”

I nodded, not knowing what else to do. Then he shook my hand and walked off, leaving me in the hall to contemplate my actual position. I’d thought I would have time to get used to the idea of him being back before I got benched again, but apparently, I was mistaken. And I honestly didn’t know how I felt about it because I really wanted to play a bigger role in this game. It had meaning and would’ve created even more, but there was no way I could go against Dylan if his doctor said he was good to go.

It was a sad truth, so I just walked back into the locker room, took a seat on the bench and lazily wrapped my wrists in preparation for the sideline. The place where I apparently belonged.

Coach came in and prepared to give a speech, but then his eyes met mine and he changed his mind. He motioned to his office, and once again I couldn’t refuse, so I stepped inside and took a seat.

“What’s up?” Coach asked as he closed the door behind us. “You look like someone just drove over your favorite toy with a sixteen-wheeler. Is this because of your English paper? I heard you scored 62.”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I really hoped to do more than just scrape by on my ass, but I guess I should be happy I passed at all. Not get too caught up in whether it was by the skin of my teeth or not.”

Coach gave me a look that spoke volumes. “I’m just glad that’s the score you got, Trace. You. I’m ashamed to think about how many young, talented players wouldn’t have done the same.”

“My score would’ve been a hell of a lot better.”

“The point is, you earned enough to stay on the team. That’s an achievement given your situation. Don’t just push that away because you feel you could’ve done better. Be happy with what you achieved.”

“I kinda just figured it was time for us to do things our own way again, because I’m sick and tired of Frank Delaney rubbing off on our team.”

“Now that’s what I want to hear!” Coach said proudly. “And you know what? Our field’s maintenance is done, so there isn’t much he can threaten us with anymore.”

I got up and headed for the door, but then I stopped. “Let’s just hope Dylan can bring us a win.”

I knew it was below the belt and sounded childish, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it. He had been out for most of the season, and while he was gone, we actually got somewhere. We even came up with a new play that would pull the rug out from under our opponents, but what the hell. All I could do was be bitter about it.