Dare You to Hate Me

The crowd goes fucking insane, a noise that’s deafening when reality hits me as I lay sprawled across the ground.

Lindon Dragons lost.

Wilson Reed Raiders won.

The guy who took me down jumps up in time for his team to run over and celebrate with him, surrounding my spent body with poor sportsmanship. I turn my head and watch as two of my own team members run over with shadowed expressions on their faces as they push past the assholes gyrating their hips to help me up.

“You good?” Caleb asks, checking me over, helping me brush off pieces of the turf my shoulder pads dug up on the fall.

“No.” My voice is almost unrecognizable between the noise of the Raiders fans cheering at their school’s victory and my own acknowledgment that I let the university beat me for a second time.

I said this wasn’t about facing my demons, but maybe if I’d been honest with myself I could have put my all out there on the field.

Caleb drags DJ away from the Raiders grouping together and walks all of us over to the rest of the team. Wallace is shooting off at the mouth, Matt is throwing his helmet on the ground and yelling at one of the referees closest to him, and Coach and his assistant are making their way to us with unreadable expressions on their faces.

When I meet Pearce’s eyes, he only shakes his head at me as he tells us all to go to the locker room.

As we make our walk off the field, there’s a mixture of boos that follow us from the Raiders fans. A few people direct their displeasure at some of us individually, and I’m not surprised to hear my name being the biggest target.

It’s my friend who murmurs, “Ignore them. They’re all dicks.”

It may be true, but it doesn’t roll off my shoulders as we pile into the locker room and wait for Coach’s speech. But when he enters and says barely two sentences before telling us to clean up and get back to the bus to go to the hotel, we all know we fucked up.

Me the most.

The game that should have given me redemption, gave me deprivation instead. And I fucking welcomed it by letting my eyes go to the stands one too many times to see how Ivy was taking the game.

How she clapped with my family.

Held the sign my mother made.

Laughed with her brother.

The water in the shower flows over me, refusing to wash away the feeling that remains stuck on my skin, even after I change, grab my bag, and meet my family outside. Some of the guys pass me with a few pats on the shoulder, others murmur “next time” and “sorry, bro” as they head toward the bus Coach has ready for us.

My parents, Ivy, and Porter are all waiting for me with a few other families and significant others. Ivy and Porter are standing behind my parents, and it’s Mom who approaches me first with a comforting smile.

“You played a good game,” she tells me, hugging me lightly before letting go and looking over the side I fell on. “You’re okay, right? Did someone check you over in the locker room to make sure nothing is broken?”

Dad sighs. “He’s fine, Emily.”

I nod. “I’m good.”

The only thing busted is my ego, but I don’t relay that information.

Porter walks up with a reluctant Ivy close beside him. “I think they should have gotten called out on a couple plays. They weren’t playing fairly. Sorry, man.”

The shrug I offer is tight. “It is what it is. Glad you could see it.” My eyes move toward the silent one in the group, our gazes locking with something heavy in the air between us.

She clears her throat. “I’m sorry too.”

I’m not sure she means about the game.

I nod once, walking over and pulling her into my arms. I don’t care that my parents are watching, or the people around us. None of them even come close to earning an ounce of the fucks I give about needing this woman in my arms right now. Leaning into her ear, I whisper, “Our hotel room in thirty.”

She shivers, offering me a small nod before stepping back after I squeeze her tightly in goodbye.

When we depart, I don’t look back when I join the guys on the bus. Caleb sits next to me, DJ in the seat in front of us, and all of them stay silent to give me time to process.