Chapter Nine
Istayed after school to watch the guys practice. It had been a while, and I knew they all felt better knowing where I was. As if it had become second nature, they each took turns seeking me out in the stands during the grueling exercise and scrimmage game Coach Q put them through.
The one downfall…
Carter was there. We spent the duration of the practice exchanging death glares. I don’t know how the bastard had the balls to show his face after breaking into Brock’s house. The last thing I wanted to do was give my ex-stepbrother credit for anything. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from stealing glances at him, wondering what evil scheme he was concocting next.
“Stop,” Mads insisted, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “If you glare any harder at Carter, his nuts will spontaneously combust.”
I angled my head toward her. “And that would be a bad thing how?”
She brought the cigarette she kept hidden below the bleachers to her lips, taking a quick drag while Coach Q wasn’t looking. “Good point,” she said, exhaling a puff of smoke. “Glare away, because now I desperately want to see his junk go up in flames.”
I scrunched my face in disgust. Normally cigarette smoke bothered me, but somehow with Mads, I didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was the way it mixed with her perfume that I didn’t find repulsing. “Can you imagine the smell? No, thank you.”
Brock tossed the ball down the field, and I watched as it spiraled straight into Micah’s waiting hands. “Where’s Kenna by the way?” I asked, turning my attention back to Mads.
She rolled her grey eyes as she removed her arm from my shoulder and switched the cigarette to her other hand. “Trying to take back her spot on the cheerleading squad.” From the tone in her voice, I could tell what Mads thought of the idea.
My eyes darted once again to Carter, after I told myself I wouldn’t look at the prick again. “Is that a good idea, considering who is on the football team?”
Tapping the end of the cigarette against the metal seat, ash fell to the ground. “Exactly! That was my point. She won’t listen to me. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
Carter went down to the ground with a thud, the crunch of plastic padding echoing through the field. Grayson landed hard on top of him. Couch Q blew his whistle long and hard. The guys still took every shot possible at Carter. I think they came to practice just to get the chance to put their hands on him.
“Doubtful,” I replied, watching Grayson slowly ease himself off Carter. “Kenna and I don’t do a lot of talking.” Unless it was about Brock.
“Three’s a crowd?” Mads guessed.
I pulled my knitted Academy sweater tighter around me as a crisp breeze blew through the field and into the stands. “You wouldn’t think so, but I sort of feel like she thinks I was trying to steal her life. And I could see how she would see it like that.” I sighed. “I don’t want to replace her. I just really want to be her friend.”
Mads brushed at a piece of her hair, which had blown into her mouth. “But you’re having a hard time connecting.”
I nodded. “I’m not sure we have much in common other than you and the Elite. Has she said anything to you?”
She fiddled with the almost-gone cigarette. “Uh—”
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I’d never ask you to choose between us.” I should probably reserve the Kenna gripes for Ainsley, which reminded me, I seriously needed to call her. This was the longest we’d ever gone without talking. I hated the distance that had grown between us.
Mads smiled. “I know. We are friends, and it is only natural for you to want to talk to me about what is going on in your life, including Kenna. To be frank, she’s… different. And I can’t figure out if she is just overwhelmed with everything or if she really has changed.”
I couldn’t bring myself to ask if the change Mads saw was for the better. Another hard hit crashed over the field, drawing my attention. This time, it was Carter looming over Micah.
Fuck.
“A fight is about to break out,” I mumbled.
“Yup,” Mads agreed, as we both watched Grayson come barreling across the football field, slamming into Carter from behind. Seconds later Coach Q’s whistle blew, followed by his fury. Maddy shook her head. “Boys. They are so predictable.”
Coach called practice after that, throwing a white towel in the air. His recently shaved, bald head shone red with fury. I felt bad for Coach Q. This team and the game meant a lot to him and the school—it was his career. Elmwood had a reputation for winning, and Coach could see that trophy slipping away from them as his star players fell apart.
The team grumbled and moaned as they headed toward the locker room. Carter lost himself in the middle of the group, but my eyes picked him out. He slowly hung back until he was the last one on the field.
I was up and out of my seat, grabbing Mads’s hand before I could second-guess what I was doing. “Come on,” I said to my cousin, tugging her down the steps.
She had another cigarette between her fingers as she clamored behind me. “I know you’re hot for Brock’s dick, but what’s the rush? He still has to shower.”
A small smile played on my lips despite the sudden heaviness pressing down on my chest. “This isn’t about Brock. He most likely will kill me if he finds out.” The stupid shit I did, and yet it didn’t stop me. “Carter!” I called out before Mads realized what I was doing.