I could hear Coach bitching about how I wasn’t focused, wasn’t paying attention.
I stayed there, though, breathing heavily, this ringing in my ears, my head feeling fuzzy. I rolled over and stared at the sky, blinking a few times.
“What the hell, Cannon?” Coach yelled out and I pushed myself up. “Where were you? Clearly not having your damn head in the game.”
I stood and looked over at Coach, seeing the anger and annoyance on his face. He gestured for me to sit my ass on the bench, and I pulled my helmet off as I started making my way over there. It was best that I wasn’t practicing right now, not when all I could think about was Stella and how I’d been so fucking blind all these years.
Although I’d always noticed how gorgeous and smart she was, how she’d make some guy really happy, I really started to feel what jealousy was like. And it was eating at me like a fucking parasite.
I didn’t know when it had happened exactly, maybe when she’d helped me study and I realized how incredible she was. Or maybe it was before then. Maybe it was when I realized she was so unlike the girls I hung around with, how she was so … genuine.
It had been like someone had slapped me across the face, like this lightbulb had gone off. I’d started comparing every other girl I met in my life to Stella, and each and every one of them fell short.
I started thinking about it all and how much time I’d wasted, how she could’ve been mine this whole time.
I sat my ass down on the bench and ran my hand over my hair, the short strands damp. My mouth guard hung from my helmet, which I’d placed beside me, that little piece of rubber swaying as it hung over the edge of the bench.
Shit, I needed to have my head in the game, in practice. I should be focusing on my team, on the plays, hell, on the fucking game coming up.
But I couldn’t.
I was confused. Consumed.
Because all I wanted to do was explore these feelings for Stella and see where they led.
5
Stella
I sat in the courtyard, my legs stretched out in front of me, students either sitting down like me, or hustling to the next class. I had a free period toward the end of the day, an hour that I usually just wasted in the library studying, but today I decided to actually get some sun on my pale-ass legs.
My jean skirt rode up my thighs, my legs were crossed at the ankle, and I let out a small moan of approval at the feel of the sun on my skin.
I rested my hands behind me and leaned back, a slight breeze picking up, the leaves in the tree beside me moving and casting shadows along the ground, showing intermittent swatches of light from the sun peeking through.
Right about now Cannon was in his final class for the day before getting ready for football practice, and all I could think about was going to the field after school, maybe even letting myself explore what I was starting to feel a little bit more as I watched him in his element.
I tipped my head back slightly and closed my eyes, the grass beneath my fingers soft, plush. I was just starting to relax when a noise as obnoxious as nails on a chalkboard filled my head.
Rachel’s voice.
I opened my eyes and exhaled, that little moment of peace I felt instantly erased. But then again, there was a little piece of pleasure at the knowledge she was probably extremely pissed at the fact Cannon had cut ties with her.
For a girl like Rachel, that was as bad as it could get. The most popular guy in school, star quarterback, paying you no attention anymore. Yeah, it had to be a blow to her ego for sure.
I saw her talking to one of her friends, both of them heading right toward me, Rachel’s focus on her phone. I hated that I was jealous of her in any capacity, but it wasn’t about her looks, popularity, or the money I knew her family had.
It wasn’t about any of that. What made me jealous was the fact she had Cannon’s attention. I didn’t know what they’d done together, if they’d kissed … if they’d gone further. I didn’t want to know that.
It wasn’t even about any of those things. It was just the simple fact that he paid any attention to her. And the selfish part of me wanted to be the only girl who had that with him. It was most definitely selfish, maybe even a little bit childish, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t change how I felt, how I saw things.