Chapter 27
Randy
After a weekend of festivities, classes officially kicked off today.
Not exactly the cleanest way to impress the new professors.
It also meant our first meeting of the year with Coach and the Raptors.
The room felt emptier than usual with so many seniors not with us since they wouldn’t need to continue meeting with the team through the spring.
Football season is still months away, but try-outs are coming fast. I’ll be tossing the ball around, testing the new hopefuls to see if any of them have hands worth trusting.
Coach and the staffing crew already knew about the fight. But seeing all of us packed into that tiny room, black and blue, yup, it was a sight. He was fuming and we were eager to get out of there.
Christian spots Shelby across the restaurant and smiles as she approaches. She drops into the seat beside him, greeting him with a gentle kiss to his split lip. He wraps an arm around her as she turns to take us all in.
“Well,” she breathes out. “How did it go? I can only imagine his reaction,” she says, cringing as her eyes sweep over the nine of us.
I don’t blame her. We’re a mess—like we just stepped out of a scene from Fight Club.
Busted and bruised. One of the sorority girls even had to drive Lewis to the emergency room to get his forehead glued back together.
None of us got out unscathed; Reilly still has three deep scratch marks down his right cheek and looks like he got attacked by a cheetah.
Although, he is telling everyone it was from a cougar he slept with.
“He was pissed, to say the least. He yelled at us for a good fifteen minutes straight. I thought the vein in the middle of his forehead was going to burst,” Walsh says, the crimson tinge still visible over his knuckles and cheek bone.
“Went on and on about how he doesn’t care about the fight, just about his team, and this season.
You want to fight—fine. But don’t do it wearing his colors.
Then something about recruiters not wanting to waste their time on a bunch of fist-throwing idiots, and to grow up! So yeah, it went well.”
“Yep, he even put the fight up on the big screen for us all to watch with him,” Christian adds.
“If I see that video one more time, I think I will vomit,” Shelby says, shaking her head. “I feel bad; it’s all my fault.”
“What?” Christian says in disbelief, his gray eyes finding hers.
I shake my head at her. “He started that, Shelby; don’t you dare feel bad. You didn’t do anything.”
“But him saying what he said…”
“Was to get a reaction out of me!” I cut her off, looking at her from across the booth.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table.
My left eye has slowly started to open, so I can see somewhat better.
“He would have kept pressing my buttons until I hit him. If it wasn’t you, he would have moved onto something else to antagonize me.
Usually, it’s football banter, but he found you in the crowd and played on it.
So don’t blame yourself. They came looking for a fight, and they weren’t leaving without one. ”
“But what he said about the Raptors losing really hit home. I feel like shit.”
Mitch shakes his head, giving a little chuckle. “We lost that game because our defense was lacking; we made stupid errors and that cost us the game.”
“Yeah, I mean Christian is good, but he’s not the team. It’s not a one-man show,” Lewis agrees, a white medical bandage on his forehead as he smirks at Christian.
“I hate him so much,” I growl out, staring off into space in disbelief. “I can’t believe they are the champions. That’s not happening this next season, not our senior year!”
Shelby nods to herself, obviously trying to take in my words and not beat herself up about it.
Seth leans forward. “Going to tell your lady the good news?” he says, his right eye bruised with a purple tinge, a crack in his lower lip.
I saw the guy who hit him during our brawl, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he now has a broken jaw.
He was in a bad way when the police showed up.
His friends had to literally drag him to the car.
Shelby’s head swings to Christian’s, waiting for the news.
“I’m captain,” he smiles.
She lets out a little scream, wrapping her hands around him, “That’s fantastic! Congratulations!” she says into his neck.
The interaction brings a pull to my heart as I watch him place a kiss on her head, wrapping his arms tightly around her. It has me thinking of Rachel and all those tender moments we shared; they were short lived, but they really left a mark.
I take a sip of my coffee and divert my eyes around the café away from my best friend and his girl.
I notice Georgina walking over to our table, and I slide steadily out of the booth so she can sit next to Seth.
Seth has always had many women, a couple friends with benefits, but Georgina has always been the constant.
She looks worried, offering a quick hello to everyone as her eyes scan each bruised body. But the deepest crease settles across her brow when she reaches Seth. She cups his cheek gently, brushing her thumb over the swelling beneath his eye.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles.
I slip in beside her, trying to be discreet—but the groan that escapes me gives me away, her head turning to look at me. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“My ribs are on fire. If I ever find out who kicked me—” I groan, clutching my side. “Ribs are killing me.”
“You guys are a mess,” she mutters, surveying the damage.
“Tell me about it,” Shelby says, not even trying to hide the wince in her voice.
She turns to Seth. “I saw the video online and got back from my parents as soon as I could.”
“As I said on the phone, I’m fine. Got hit in the ribs, but they aren’t too bad,” he reassures her.
“Did you get hit where you were already injured?” she says, her hand grazing over his upper chest.
“Must have.”
She frowns in worry.
“Seriously, I’m fine. Come home with me after this, and I’ll prove to you that I’m still in perfect working order,” he says, flashing her a quick, depraved look.
She blushes because she isn’t like most girls. She is shy, doesn’t drink or do drugs, and is easily embarrassed. But overall, she’s a really cool chick, and I get what Seth sees in her.
“Okay,” she agrees, turning back to look at the rest of us. Her black hair falls around her face as Seth slides his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close to his body.
“Geez,” she lets out again, looking around at all of the black-and-blue faces.
“I have a boo-boo here…” Mitch points to his busted knuckles. “Can you kiss it better,” he says, holding it out toward her, mocking her concern.
“Fuck off, Mitch!” she says, rolling her eyes at him and pushing his hand back across his side of the table.
Georgina can also be a little firecracker and knows how to handle the guys.
She knows the group well and spends a lot of time around us even though she and Seth aren’t actually dating—his choice, not hers.
Mitch laughs at her reply as the waitress drops off platefuls of food to our table, refilling our coffee and eyeing our injuries.
Christian and Seth both ordered for the girls, and it isn’t long before we are all scraping the last of the food off our plates.
I throw back Advil that Georgina grabs out of her bag, watching it get passed around the table, and now I’m ready for my afternoon classes.
Seth clears his throat from the head of the booth, and I follow his line of sight to the group of girls walking in. Rachel. The whole table looks, and I’m thankful she doesn’t notice us as she slides down onto her chair. “Way to be subtle, guys,” I say, sipping at my drink.
Lewis shrugs. “She intrigues me. A woman who actively and repeatedly has turned you down and avoids you like the plague, I like her.”
“Yeah, well, I said some pretty shitty things,” I say, dragging my eyes away from her.
“I heard Mullins asked her out,” Mitch says, shoveling his last spoonful into his mouth.
Well, that got my attention. “What?” I ask in anger, choking on some of my drink, my fingers tightening around my cup. That son of a bitch. I introduced him to Rachel on New Year’s night as my fucking girl.
Mitch finishes the last of his coffee. “That’s what I heard; don’t shoot the messenger!”
“I’m going to break his face,” the words roll out of mouth so easy, so primal, like a possessive caveman over a woman who wants nothing to do with me.
“Not on my watch,” Christian says, looking at me from across the table.
I glare back at him. “Are you telling me this as my best friend, or as captain of the team?”
“Both,” he says back without hesitation, his gray eyes deadly serious.
I shake my head at him, agitation radiating through my body. I know he is right, but right now I’m just angry.
What a shitty thing to do from a friend and teammate.