I’m on the edge of a cliff, dangling above a gulf full of sharks. I can see things clearly now. He’s not the tortured, broken boy I met on his doorstep on a hot summer day. And I’m not the naïve girl who thought he actually liked me. We are two wounded animals with overgrown claws, just waiting for an excuse to rip each other’s throats out.
“You started the war two years ago.” I fortify the cracks in my voice. “I just came back to finish it.”
For a split second, he looks almost human again. I want to believe there’s even a hint of regret in his eyes before he turns away, calling out over his shoulder as he heads for the door.
“Bring everything you’ve got, Kail.”4LandonJared fucking Price.
My eyes bore into his skull for the duration of the team meeting. Coach is going over the playbook, talking strategy for our first game of the season, but my head isn’t in it. Football is serious shit at Black Mountain Academy. Most of these guys are vying for spots at top colleges while a chosen few might even be drafted into the pro leagues.
I’m here because football sounded like the thing you should do when you missed out on your entire childhood experience. But honestly, I don’t know why the fuck I show up every day. Other than channeling my frustrations into blood and sweat, I don’t see the benefit. My teammates either love the sport or they want the glory that comes with it, but for me, it’s just background noise. A way to fill the empty space in my schedule. It keeps me busy so I don’t have to think. Because when I think, bad shit happens.
A sharp pain radiates down to the plates and screws holding my elbow together. It’s a good reminder of the bad shit. Kail accomplished what most people never have. She left me with permanent scars.
Technically, my doctor probably wouldn’t approve of me playing football. But Coach doesn’t say anything about it as long as I show up to practice and eat the pain. Pain in my bones. Pain in my chest. Pain whenever I look at Jared fucking Price. The problem with pain is it has a bad habit of morphing into rage. Every day this week, I’ve watched him scoop Kailani into his arms after practice like a victory trophy. He touches her. Kisses her. Whispers shit into her ear that makes her smile. The testosterone overloading my system feels like a circuit breaker about to explode.
Coach rambles off more shit I don’t catch, and then he tells us to do the walkthrough. Tomorrow’s our first game against Glen Ridge. It’s important. Well, it’s important to these guys at least. I should probably give a shit about it too, but right now, I’m not thinking about the game.
The quarterback fakes a pass to Marcos and tosses the ball to Jared. He’s on the outside, and I’m lateral, closing in as he cuts back inside. For the purposes of the walkthrough, we aren’t wearing pads or helmets. It’s a no-contact practice. That doesn’t stop me from plowing into him anyway. The sound of the breath heaving from his lungs as he tumbles onto the turf makes me feel better, for all of two seconds.
“What the fuck, Blackwood?” he snarls up at me.
“Blackwood,” Coach snaps. “What the hell are you doing?”
My eyes don’t leave Jared’s. “Tonight. Devil’s Bluff. Eight o'clock.”
A smirk plays across Jared’s lips. “Hope you’ve got good insurance, bro.”
“Blackwood!” Coach yells again.
I brush off my uniform and shrug. “Sorry, Coach.”
He looks back and forth between the two of us. “You good, Price?”
“I’m good.” Jared snaps back to his feet, wearing a smug expression on his face.
“Save the pissing contest for the urinals,” Coach barks. “Now, let’s get back to it.”Devil’s Bluff is a one size fits all stomping ground. When the rich pricks at school can’t host parties at their mansions, they resort to coming out here. The scholarship kids have been known to hang out here more frequently, along with the stoners and the misfits from other district schools. But if a guy wants to get his dick wet and not be seen, you’re likely to find a few parked cars here during the week too.
The bluff overlooking the lake is halfway between Black Mountain and a few other nearby towns, so it’s anyone’s guess who’s going to be there on any random night. Tonight, though, I can safely say I recognize most of the cars from BMA. It looks like half the football team showed up when they caught wind of it. Someone has already set up a keg, and the cheer squad is waiting along the sidelines, ready to sink their teeth into whoever wins.
Carson shifts in the passenger seat beside me, peering out the window with a locked jaw. “What the fuck are you trying to prove with this caveman bullshit?”