Chapter 16 – Vincenzo – The Past
Iknew walking onto a new field would feel like stepping into enemy territory. Thirty pairs of eyes tracked me like I was fresh meat. My smirk told them everything they needed to know. I was here to win—to prove I belonged on the team.
Coach Harvy blew the whistle before anyone could engage with me. “Warm-up laps! Move your asses!”
Everyone launched forward. The turf was hot enough to scorch skin, the kind that made our cleats stick for half a second before releasing with a rip.
Guys were cracking jokes between breaths—half of them about the quarterback’s “tragic” haircut, half about the sophomore who puked during summer camp and hadn’t lived it down.
Most were making comments about the cheerleaders.
We passed their practice. Blondes, brunettes, and one redhead were stretching in a cohesive unit. It was the golden-haired one my gaze raked over. She hinged at the waist, hands touching the ground without a bend in the knee.
“Hey, new kid,” someone called beside me, matching my pace. “You fast?”
I shrugged, keeping my breath even. “Fast enough.”
He snorted. “We’ll see.”
We did. Fast enough turned into me passing him on lap two, and the guy behind him, and then the entire pack until it was just me in front, hearing muttered comments.
“Who the hell is this dude?”
“Nah, man, he’s not a freshman—look at him.”
The cheerleaders were starting their combinations by the time we entered the middle of the field. I felt chilly blue eyes drift over us, but every time I looked, I couldn’t catch her gaze.
Warm-ups rolled into form drills. The air smelled like sweat and wet grass and maybe a hint of ego. The bodies here were loud: shoulder pads colliding, curse words flying, grunts echoing like we were in some medieval battlefield cosplay.
Coach Harvy pointed at me. “Messina, you’re with the O-line for sleds. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Great. Trial by fire.
This is what I’m here for.
Football at a good school, a full ride to college, and then…the kind of future where I could step up and easily claim her as mine. A simple plan. While some might call it a fool’s dream, I was living proof that it was possible.
The linemen—all mountains with legs—looked me over like I was a toothpick someone accidentally stuck in their group.
One guy with a neck thicker than my torso laughed. “New kid’s gonna break.”
I grinned back. “Only thing breaking today is that sled.”
He raised a brow, like boldness was either admirable or punishable by death.
Coach blew the whistle. I dropped into a low stance. Everything tightened—shoulders, core, jaw. The grass was damp under my fingertips.
“DRIVE!”
I slammed into the pad. The impact knocked the breath out of me, but adrenaline shoved it right back in. The sled groaned forward. Five—six—seven feet. Maybe more. When I stepped back, the linemen weren’t laughing anymore.
Someone muttered, “Shit…okay.”
The scrimmage was where everything shifted.
Helmets on, mouthguards in, the whole world shrunk until it was just the thud of cleats on turf.
I shook my body, ready to show why I belonged here.
While we lined up for the first play, the guys around me were running their mouths. Half trash talk, half stupidity.
“Ten bucks says Jenna dumps Tyler by Homecoming.”
“Nah, man, she’s stuck on him. I’ll put my money on Tiffani and Caleb breaking up. Girl looked thirsty at practice yesterday.”
Someone behind me snorted. “You’re all idiots. Only bet worth making? Which cheerleader’s gonna be wearing my jacket by Friday.”
They laughed. It was clear the cheerleaders weren’t girls to them, just trophies with ponytails.
I didn’t join in. Mostly because I didn’t give a damn about their bets.
Partly because I was too busy staring across the field.
She was there—the cheerleader with a smile that looked like she’d stolen it from a summer day. Navy blue bow in her sun-kissed hair. Hands on her hips. Not a ponytail trophy. No, she stood too divine for that. She watched practice with a laser focus that made it feel like she saw everything.
Including me.
But she won’t look at me.
Dio mio, I’d been at this preppy school for all of three days. Nothing. Not a look. Not a word.
Not even when I left flowers in her locker, hid them in her books, or dropped them on her lap during class.
The feral, possessive part of me wanted to run up to her, drape my arm around her shoulder, and make sure all these sweaty fuckers knew that she was mine.
Mine. Per sempre.
The whistle blew. I tore my eyes away and locked into formation.
“Set—hut!”
The ball snapped, lines crashed, and I broke free of the defender clinging to my jersey. The QB launched a perfect spiral. It smacked into my hands. I tucked it and sprinted.
Someone lunged for me. He missed.
Another dove low. I hurdled over him.
A third tried to grab my shoulder pads and got dragged six feet before giving up.
The whistle sliced the air. The field went dead quiet in its wake.
I shook myself off, watching as bits of turf fell to the ground. Risking a peep toward the girls, I saw the flock of pretty birds gaping at us—at me.
The boys started to mutter.
“Holy shit.”
“Who the hell is this freak?”
“Bro—brO—did you see that?”
Coach didn’t say anything at first. Just stared like he was recalibrating the whole season’s strategy in his head. Finally, he pointed at me.
“First string. Get over there.”
And that was how it was done.
That was when the cheerleaders cheered—not for the team, but for me, definitely for me. The way the golden smiled? It hit different. It was a secret, knowing smirk playing on her glossy lips.
The jocks kept talking smack, still placing bets like idiots. But I didn’t care.
I was here to win.
I jerked my chin at the golden one, a silent greeting.
She suddenly had somewhere else to focus her attention.
When practice was finally over, we drifted to the girls. I lifted a hand, her name on my lips.
The golden one’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked away.
Porca vacca! Not again.
Going with her gaggle of girls, she breezed off the field. I raced to the locker rooms to change and grab my things. I didn’t bother with a shower. All day, I’d been trying to corner her, to just…say hi.
Back outside, I waited for her to emerge. When she did it was with a group of girls escorting her. I clenched my jaw and followed at a safe distance.
The golden one threw a cautious look over her shoulder as they neared the parking lot. Her gaze tightened when it landed on me. She gave a subtle shake of her head.
I jerked my chin down the road and gave a silent plea. Just come say hi.
Her lips thinned. But she turned to faux embrace her friends. Calling out goodbyes, she hustled to the end of the parking lot. I loped to the far side, ready to intercept her.
“Walk ahead of me,” she hissed, not looking in my direction.
I saw it then. The black town car that loitered near the road. She made a beeline for it, paused at the window, dumped her bag inside, then walked away at a fast pace. When she rounded the copse of trees, I was done waiting.
I dashed forward and intercepted her. “Hi, Mandy.”
Not the best opening line, but I let my grin of triumph speak for me.
She looked nervously around and slinked back, deeper into the shadows of the branches. “What are you doing, idiota?”
So feisty!
I let her anger roll through me, not fixating on the sting of her cold, unfriendly attitude these past few days. “I’ve missed you.”
Her shoulders dropped. Those three little words broke through her guard.
I took a cautious step forward.
“Enzo, I—” She lifted and quickly dropped her hands helplessly. “Hi.”
The corner of my mouth quirked up. “Hi.”
We stood there, two lost souls reunited. The restraints of the posh school fell away. With her, I didn’t have to try to be the star student or the talented athlete. I could just be me.
“Want to grab a coffee or a bite and catch up?” I offered, knowing that food was always a good way to reach her.
But the words had the opposite effect. Worry creased her eyes, and she quickly shook her head. “You can’t act like you know me.”
That did it. A spike of pain nailed into my heart. Darkness leached out.
I crowded into her, pushing her back against a tree. Not touching her, I leaned down. That exotic, floral scent she wore brushed against me. An intangible caress.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why have you been ignoring me this whole time?”
Her breath hitched. “Dad won’t like it. I don’t want him to mess with your scholarship.”
And just like that, the anger dissipated. It wasn’t her social status that she feared risking. It wasn’t that she wanted to forget her past friendship.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” I murmured, leaning an arm against the tree trunk above her head. “I thought you didn’t want to be associated with a poor boy like me.”
“Enzo!” She grabbed the lapels of my suit jacket and shook me. “You stupid, stupid boy, no!”
I chuckled and let her pull me close. I still wasn’t touching her, letting her be in control.
“This is serious.” She tugged at my jacket. “Dad wants nothing to do with your father or Mr. Morelli!”
“I know. But I’m here legitimately. He can’t hurt me, fiore.”
At the name, the one I started calling her because she always wore flowers when we were kids, her eyes fluttered closed. “Lord, I’ve missed the hell out of you.”
“Have you?” I prompted, words husky.
She nodded. “I wanted to jump up in math class on Monday and hug you so badly.”
So, I hadn’t been imagining it. She still wanted to be around me. She was still my friend.
“Good. Can I walk you home?”
She shook her head. “I have a driver now.”
“I saw.”
Her blue gaze bled into mine. I caught the moment the wheels of her mind started spinning. “I’ll cancel him for tomorrow, saying I have to stay behind for extracurriculars.”
There she is. My beautiful schemer.
“I can’t wait,” I promised.
Without another word, she bent under me and took off jogging back to the parking lot. I leaned against the tree, letting the world play around me as I stared after her. Amanda was still my friend. Still the same, beautiful golden girl that I grew up with. Mine. All mine.