Chapter 31
CHARLIE
I take back everything I’ve ever said about football. Being in the stadium, feeling the contagious energy of the crowd, made me understand why people love it so much. I still don’t know most of the rules, but in the end, it didn’t matter.
There was also the added bonus that I wanted the opposing team to lose badly all thanks to the encounter with those bullies earlier, and the Rushmore Rebels delivered.
It was a hard game, and the score remained tight throughout the entire three and a half hours, but in the end, the Rebels won. My voice is hoarse from screaming.
Troy texts me that he might not be able to sneak out to ride with us. I totally understand. This victory was amazing, and I’m sure the celebration in the locker room is crazy right now. I tell him not to worry. His reply is to let him know when we’re in the food court and he’ll try to make it.
The crowd is slow to leave, and since we’re all the way down, it takes at least ten minutes for our row to move.
Ben and I file out, and then we trudge along with the rest of the people.
It feels like an eternity before we finally reach the top of the stairs.
I get out of the traffic headed for the exit and look for a quieter spot to text Troy back.
He’ll be here in a few minutes, so I wait, keeping my eyes peeled and searching for him in the crowd.
But I find someone else first, and I wish I’d missed her altogether.
Brooke, Troy’s beautiful friend, is coming in my direction.
It’s too late now to pretend I didn’t see her, and it’s clear she’s making a beeline in my direction.
She’s with a friend, a brunette just as tall as she is but not as pretty.
“Hey. Charlie, right?” Brooke asks me with a phony smile plastered on her face.
“Yep. How’s it going?”
“Oh, pretty good. So, you and Troy, huh?”
I knew she had ulterior motives for coming to speak to me.
Thanks to my snooping of Troy’s Instagram profile before my interview with him, I know they’re close, probably dated at some point.
But he’s never mentioned her, so I wasn’t going to ask.
Judging by Brooke’s fake friendliness, my assumption was correct.
If they didn’t date, then she has a major crush on him.
Too fucking bad.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get it,” the friend says. “Weren’t you the girl who wrote that nasty article about him? Why would he date you ?”
I narrow my eyes for a second, but when I reply, it’s with a saccharine smile. “You know what they say: there’s a fine line between love and hate. I guess we were just bound to cross it.”
“Oh, so now you think Troy is in love with you?” She scoffs. “In your dreams.”
“Tammy, please.” Brooke touches her friend’s arm as her face twists into an expression of discomfort.
Yeah, I’m not buying it.
The ugly brunette takes a sip of her soda first before replying, “What? I was just saying what everyone knows. Troy doesn’t love anyone but himself.”
Whoa. Maybe we have more than one scorned woman here, not only Brooke.
“I’m pretty sure his only problem is that he has high standards,” Ben says before I can.
“Oh my God. The retarded boy speaks.” The bitch looks at Ben with disdain, an expression I know too well. What she doesn’t know is that every bully who has taunted my brother because of his Down syndrome has paid the price.
Brooke gasps, looking genuinely shocked by her friend’s comment. It doesn’t matter. My vision has already turned red, and before anyone can stop me, I pull my arm back and punch the bitch in the nose.
Her head jerks back right before she screeches, creating a commotion. “What the hell! You broke my nose.”
Unlikely, since I didn’t hear anything crack.
My pulse is pumping in my ears when I reply through clenched teeth, “Be glad that’s all I broke.”
Troy appears suddenly, breaking through the crowd to get to us. “What happened?”
“That filthy whore broke my nose.” The girl points at me.
“You called her brother the R-word,” a lady I hadn’t noticed until then cuts in. “It’s because of disgusting, prejudiced people like you that there’s still a stigma today if people are different.”
Wow . I didn’t expect anyone to stand up for me. Her defense brings tears to my eyes.
She glances at me and smiles as a way to say she has my back.
Troy turns to Brooke. “That’s the company you keep nowadays?”
“They were both out of line,” she retorts, crossing her arms.
“I want to go. Can we go, Charlie?” Ben asks, clutching the sleeve of my jacket. His small voice breaks me.
I pull him into a side hug, ignoring the throbbing in my hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I’m too angry to check if Troy is following me. I just want to get out of here. The onlookers are smothering me.
A second later, he places his hand on my lower back and, using his body, makes way for us to pass. I never considered myself a damsel in need of a savior, but Troy’s protectiveness feels nice.
We continue in silence until we get to my car. When I grab the door handle, I realize I’m still shaking and in no condition to drive.
Troy circles my wrist, keeping me from opening the door. “I’ll drive.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t drive with your shoulder like that.”
“You’re still reeling from what happened.” He frowns. “Your arm is shaking.”
“I can drive,” Ben pipes up.
I glance at him with a refusal on the tip of my tongue. He can drive in Littleton, which is much quieter than here.
“I can do it, Charlie. Trust me,” he insists.
“You have your driver’s license?” Troy asks.
“Yes. I’ve had it for four months already.” Ben puffs his chest out proudly.
Troy turns back to me, concern in his eyes. “Let him drive, babe.”
I want to argue, but if I say anything, it might do more harm than good. I know my brother—he’s putting up a tough front, but he’s a mess inside. Growing up, he fought depression among other things because of assholes who treated him badly.
“Okay,” I say. “But I’m sitting shotgun.” I walk around the car, leaving Troy no choice but to slide across the back seat.
During the drive, I expect him to ask for details about what happened, but he keeps quiet. The silence becomes a heavy blanket of discomfort, and I eventually can’t take it anymore.
“The game was amazing,” I pipe up, turning to face Troy in the back seat.
He nods. “It was, but hell, I was a wreck the whole time. I thought I was going to lose my voice with the way I was shouting.”
“I kind of lost mine,” I say.
Troy smirks. “Hmm, I did notice a new sexiness to it.”
“Dude, I’m right here,” Ben complains.
“Oops. Sorry.”
I laugh despite the horrible way the day ended.
“Is there any chance you would consider going to the party with me tonight?” Troy asks softly. “It’s going to be epic.”
I bite my lower lip, torn between a straight “No” and a “Maybe”. After the altercation with Brooke’s friend, and the way the blonde was acting all shady, I do want to show up at the party as Troy’s date. Call it vanity or whatever with a pinch of possessiveness. But there’s Ben to consider.
“I don’t know. Are there going to be more people like that airless bimbo who name-called Ben?”
Troy winces. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“You should go, Charlie,” Ben says. “I think I’m ready to go home if Mom is feeling better.”
My stomach bottoms out, and my chest, which was already tight as hell, constricts further. Ben staying with me was a way to distract him from the turmoil back at my folks’. I feel guilty, even though it’s irrational. I can’t control what ignorant people say or do.
“If that’s what you want.”
Ben nods. “Yeah, it is. I had fun today though.”
I watch his profile, trying to sniff out the lie. His expression is serene, but Ben’s always had a better poker face than me.
If he spirals down a dark tunnel again because of that bitch, I will break her nose for real the next time I see her.