Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rome
“ K eep it up, one more rep,” I encourage Levi as he works on finishing his bench presses.
His forehead is covered with perspiration. The AC in the gym is working overtime, but his body is working harder.
“I can’t,” he grits through his teeth, struggling to complete his lift.
“You can, come on!”
With a loud grunt, he raises the weights, and I help him place the bar in its stand.
“Fuck, I can’t feel my arms.”
“Good job.” I grip his shoulder and give him a firm shake.
“Fuck you.”
I chuckle at him. His arms are dangling toward the floor, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. His cheeks are red, and he’s in need of a cool shower.
“You’ll thank me when you wake up one morning with arms of steel.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He brushes me off weakly.
“Are we good for Friday? Is a day enough rest?”
“Yeah, Friday . . . Whatever you say.”
I snicker again as I gather my gym bag. “Shower, eat, drink water, then rest. You hear me?”
“Yes, boss.”
Leaving him to his temporary resting place, I head into the corridor and rest my back against the wall while reaching for my phone; seeing a message from Ash.
Hey man, busy tonight?
Not that I’m aware of. What’s up?
Want to come over? Hang out with me, Zack, maybe Max? Gwen is working, and Zack said something about Chrissy talking to her parents, which tends to run all night.
Sure, sounds great, but be warned, I’m starving.
Per usual. Don’t worry, friend. I have all the snacks! Just don’t touch Max’s yogurt!
Can’t I just have one?! They’re so good! You need to try one.
Fuck me, you can’t say I didn’t try. Don’t tell him, but I’ll try one too lol.
I’m typing out my next message, but the sound of the doors blasting open diverts my attention.
“Chrissy?”
“Hey, handsome.” She sounds distracted as she scans the hall.
“What are you doing here? I thought Ash said you were going to call your parents?”
She looks disheveled; her cheeks are red like she ran here.
“Yeah, I am. Have you seen Malik?” Her question leaves me confused.
“Not today, why?”
“Just curious.” She’s watching our surroundings like a hawk.
“Are you feeling okay?” I reach for her, resting the back of my hand to check her temperature. “You need to cool off and drink some water.”
“Yeah... I think I just need to get back to my dorm.” She sounds distant, and her gaze has yet to land on me.
“I was going to go to Ash’s, but how about you come back to my place? You can call your parents in my room. I’ll cook us something to eat, and afterward, we can hang out. Blast the AC and watch all the TV we can handle.”
With a small sigh, Chrissy finally looks at me. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Okay, let’s go?—”
“Carter!” Coach’s voice startles me.
“Yes, sir?” I ask while turning around.
“Can you step into my office? We have to talk.”
My stomach plummets into the floor, leaving me, and my voice, an anxious mess. “Sure, I’ll be right there.”
I look back at Chrissy, and she offers me a gentle look. “I’ll wait here. Don’t worry, okay?”
I release a long exhale of nerves and nod. “I’ll be right back.”
I’ve only been called into Bradson’s office to be lectured. I’m preparing myself for the scolding of a lifetime when he closes the door and gestures for me to sit in the chair across from his desk. We stare at one another for a moment, and I shift in the worn-down chair, my leg starting to jostle.
“Do you know why I called you in here?” he starts.
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
“Think hard, Carter. Why are you sitting across from me right now?”
I open my mouth and then close it when he slides the plays I reviewed for Malik toward me. A shaky puff of air leaves me when he taps on the papers.
“Is this your handwriting?”
If I say yes, Malik will be outed for being a terrible captain, but he’ll also make my life a living hell, and he’ll take me down with him.
“No,” I respond with as much confidence as I can infuse into my voice.
Coach offers me a pen and paper, and my insides contract.
“Prove it. Write your name.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” he fires back.
“Because . . . it is my handwriting.”
Coach sighs. Spinning around in his chair, he reaches for more folders and opens them to display more of my handwriting.
“I should have known. Honestly, Malik was never detail oriented. I mean, he didn’t even have to do this. He came to me because he wanted to learn how to craft plays. Why pass them off to you and claim both the criticism and praise?”
“I’m not sure, sir.” My tone turns quiet, and I sink into the chair.
I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, and Coach is disappointed. It’s written all across his brow.
“I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for Levi Faulkner.”
“Faulkner?”
“I didn’t think I was obtuse, but I wasn’t paying as close attention to the team as I thought I was. Faulkner and a few other players have recently come to me to discuss their concerns about Malik as captain. I’ve seen you helping the newbies in the gym, ensuring the guys are staying hydrated, pumping them up before practice and last season before games. These are things a captain is supposed to do... but here you are, doing it for him because he’s slacking off. With your permission, I would like to hold a vote. You or Malik as the new captain.”
“Me as captain?” I repeat, dumbfounded.
“I’ve been watching you. This is something you can handle, Carter, not because of the kind of player you are but because of who you are as a person. Plus, you’ve been doing it without the official title for who knows how long now. I won’t move forward until you give me the okay.”
A thousand little thought gremlins run through my mind. But the biggest one is screaming, “He won’t throw you the ball if you do this. Your future career will be nonexistent. You won’t be able to help your dad. You’ll be a failure.”
“I don’t kn?—”
“Think it over. I don’t need an answer until the end of August. The sooner, the better, but this is a big decision. Just know that I’m here if you want to talk it over.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I mumble.
I don’t remember getting up to leave or the firm pat on my shoulder as I left his office.
What I do remember is seeing Malik backing my girl against a row of lockers.
My fingernails dig into my palm, my jaw tightening to unbelievable levels. With one foot in front of the other, I’m about to rain hellfire down on him. He can torture me all he wants. If he thinks he can touch my girl, he’s going to pay.