He definitely seems to notice because when Coach calls for a break, Rayn rips off his helmet and throws it on the ground.
I keep walking to the locker room.
I will not be lured into a fight with him.
* * *
When practice is over, I feel good about what I showed Coach.
He told me that my form was good. Each of my passes connected with their receiver.
I did what I came to do.
And now, I’m going to shower off and go find Priya.
I have some things to clear up.
As I lean down to take off my cleats, someone slams my locker door shut with a loud crash.
I jump up.
And I’m not surprised to find Rayn glaring at me.
He pushes me against the lockers.
I push him back.
And without any words, it turns into an all-out brawl.
We’re tumbling over the benches.
His fist connects with my face.
My knee digs into his side.
There’s yelling in the background.
Fight!
Break it up!
Somebody’s hands are on me.
Somebody pulls Rayn away from me.
My eye is burning with pain.
Rayn is staring daggers at me.
“Youbastard!” he yells at me. “Do your worst. At the end of the day, you’re still afuckingbastard.”
I want to take another swing at him, but I won’t. I can’t actually move with these huge linebackers holding me back.
His words sting.
I’m no one’s fucking bastard.
Instead of using my fists, I take to my words. I spit at Rayn’s feet and I yell at him, “You’re a son of a bitch. And I hate the part of me that shares any DNA with you.”