44 helmets off
I barely hear half the meeting.
Coach is standing at the front of the room clicking through film while the offense gets absolutely ripped apart for blown assignments against Western Kentucky, but my brain keeps drifting somewhere else entirely.
Everly smiling at me in the dorm lobby.
Her letting me carry her bag upstairs without automatically fighting me on it.
Her standing beside me in the hallway with flushed cheeks from the cold outside, looking at me like maybe she didn't completely hate me anymore.
It's pathetic how much that alone affects me.
"Bennett."
I blink hard.
Coach is staring directly at me now. "You with us?"
Before I can answer, Scott speaks up beside me.
"Physically? Maybe."
A few guys snort.
I shove his shoulder. "Shut up."
Scott grins lazily, stretching back in his chair. "You look disgustingly happy. It's honestly disturbing."
"I literally don't."
"You've been smiling at nothing for the last twenty minutes."
"I hate you."
"Not as much as you like your roommate."
I flip him off instantly.
Coach throws a marker at both of us.
"Either kiss or pay attention," he snaps.
The room erupts immediately. Scott nearly chokes laughing while I drop my head against the table for a second.
Worst team in the country.
The meeting finally ends after another thirty miserable minutes of film review and yelling.
Everybody starts filing out loudly, exhausted after Thanksgiving break. Shoulder pads clatter against lockers somewhere down the hall while somebody blasts music from a speaker in the locker room.
Scott bumps my shoulder on the way out. "You gonna go stare longingly at Coleman again tonight?"
"Allen."
"That's a yes."
"Please find a hobby."
"You are my hobby."
"Jesus Christ."
He laughs loudly before disappearing down the hallway.
I'm stuffing papers into my backpack when somebody stops beside me.
Logan.
Well... that immediately kills whatever good mood I had.
Because Logan's been civil lately, sure, but there's still this underlying tension every time we're near each other. Like we both know things aren't fully settled yet.
He crosses his arms slightly. "You got a minute?"
That tone never means anything good.
I sling my backpack over one shoulder anyway. "Am I about to get threatened again?"
"Depends how this conversation goes."
"Awesome."
He snorts quietly and jerks his head toward the side exit leading outside.
We end up standing near the back hallway by the practice field doors where it's quieter. Cold air slips inside every few seconds when somebody opens the exit.
For a second neither of us says anything.
Then Logan looks at me and goes, "You wanna know why I hated you so much?"
The question catches me off guard enough that I just stare at him for a second.
Because honestly?
I thought I already knew.
I hurt Everly.
That seemed pretty self-explanatory.
But something about the way he says it tells me this goes deeper than that.
Logan leans back against the wall beside the exit.
"Our dad used to disappear all the time," he says flatly.
My chest tightens immediately.
"He'd leave for weeks. Sometimes months." Logan laughs once without humor. "Then he'd come back acting like everything was magically fixed."
I stay quiet.
"He was charming when things were good," Logan continues. "That was the problem. He always knew exactly what to say to make people believe him again."
Everly.
I can already picture it too clearly.
Hopeful.
Trusting.
Wanting to believe somebody would finally stay.
"Everly always believed him," Logan says more quietly now.
Something twists hard in my stomach.
"Every single time."
The hallway suddenly feels colder.
"There was this middle school talent show thing when she was thirteen," Logan says after a second. "She played guitar."
I can practically see it already.
"She talked about it for weeks because Dad promised he'd come." Logan shakes his head slightly. "He kept texting updates the entire day. Said he was on the way. Said traffic was bad. Said he'd be there before she went on."
Fuck.
"Everly believed every word."
I swallow hard.
"She kept looking at the doors during the entire performance waiting for him to walk in."
Jesus Christ.
"He never came."
The words hit like a punch straight to the ribs.
Logan looks down at the floor for a second before continuing.
"Mom was working late that night, and I'd come straight from practice." His jaw tightens slightly. "We waited outside the school for almost an hour because she kept saying maybe he was still coming."
I close my eyes briefly. Because somehow that part makes it even worse.
"She wouldn't cry in front of people," Logan says quietly. "So she just sat there pretending she was fine."
I feel physically sick hearing it.
Logan exhales slowly.
"I finally told her he wasn't coming, and we walked home." He laughs bitterly under his breath. "She spent the entire walk pretending she wasn't crying."
Neither of us talks for a second after that. Cold air pushes through the hallway again when the exit opens.
Then Logan looks directly at me.
"When you pulled away from her," he says quietly, "it brought all that shit back."
The words land hard enough that I actually flinch a little.
Because he's right.
I did that.
Maybe not intentionally.
Maybe not maliciously.
But I still did it.
I made her feel abandoned anyway.
And suddenly I understand why Logan looked at me like he wanted to kill me for weeks afterward.
I stare down at the floor.
"I didn't know," I admit quietly.
"I figured."
Another silence.
Then Logan sighs heavily and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
"But I also see you trying now," he says reluctantly.
I glance up. He still looks guarded. Protective, like he's analyzing me for weaknesses.
But not angry anymore.
"At first I thought you were just screwing with her head," he admits. "But you're not."
"No," I say immediately.
Because I'm not.
Not even a little.
Logan studies my face for another second before nodding once. "And she clearly cares about you too."
My chest tightens embarrassingly fast at that.
Then Logan sighs again like physically admitting this pains him. "So I'm not standing in the way if you two really want this."
I genuinely don't know what to say for a second.
Because I expected another threat, another warning.
Not this.
"You mean that?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Logan gives me a look. "Don't make me repeat emotional statements. It's humiliating."
A surprised laugh escapes me.
He points at me immediately. "That does not mean I suddenly like you."
"Fair."
"I'm serious, Bennett." His expression sharpens slightly again. "If you hurt her again, I will absolutely ruin your life."
"I know."
And honestly?
I deserve that.
Logan watches me carefully for another second before nodding once. Then, quieter, "Just don't make me regret trusting you."
Something in my chest shifts painfully at the word trusting.
Because I know how hard that probably was for him to say.
"I won't," I say immediately.
And for maybe the first time in my life, I mean something that completely.
Logan studies me one last time before stepping backward toward the hallway. "Good."
Then he pauses. "And Bennett?"
"Yeah?"
"If Allen starts calling you my brother-in-law, I'm transferring schools."
I choke on a laugh.
Logan shakes his head like he already regrets this entire conversation before disappearing down the hallway.
I stay there alone afterward staring at the floor for a long second.
Everly sitting outside her middle school waiting for somebody who never came keeps replaying in my head over and over again.
And all I can think is that I almost became another person who made her feel that way.
The thought makes my stomach turn.
I pull my phone out without even thinking.
Everly's contact is still pinned at the top of my messages.
My thumb hovers there for a second. Because suddenly this feels bigger than just wanting her.
I want to be someone safe for her.
And honestly?
That scares me more than anything.