Chapter 11 #2
“Who else will be there?” I try to stop myself from picturing Will with one of his many admirers hanging on him all night, but it happens anyway.
Theo shakes his head. “It’s just his family.”
During Friday’s game, the Falcons score so many touchdowns, we play the victory song on repeat.
I try hard not to hyperfocus on William, but whenever number 26 takes to the field, it’s like the air molecules vibrate on an alternate frequency.
He’s so commanding out there. So confident.
Theo says Will has a gift, and even though I pride myself in knowing as little as possible about sports, it’s obvious my brother’s right.
Throughout it all, I try to keep an eye on Morgan, who spends all of five minutes watching the game and the rest of the time hanging out with her various friend groups.
During a break before the second half, I catch her with a group of upperclassmen—all guys.
One of them is tickling her and she’s laughing and squirming like a little kid.
It’s so blatant what they’re doing, and she’s so fucking clueless that it’s happening.
Or maybe she just can’t resist the attention?
After the game, I can’t find her in the spot we agreed to meet, and panic starts licking up my spine.
I scan the families and groups of kids filtering down from the stadium to the access road leading to the parking lot, but I don’t see her.
I weave through the crowd, asking everyone I recognize, but nobody’s seen her.
My worry spreads like a burn inside my chest. I end up outside the boy’s locker room to intercept Theo when he comes out.
“Charlotte?”
I whirl around, nearly crashing into William. He’s wearing a Falcons T-shirt and a pair of gray sweats, and blue and white pool slides with white socks on his feet. His football gear bag is slung over one shoulder and his helmet and pads dangle from his opposite hand.
“Is Theo still in there?” I ask him.
“Yeah, he had to meet with the trainer.” He frowns. “What’s up?”
“I can’t find Morgan. She didn’t show up at our meeting spot.”
“I’ll help you look.”
Turning him down is on the tip of my tongue, but he’s already in motion. “Let’s check the parking lot and work our way back up.”
“Good idea,” I say. We funnel into the dwindling crowd heading for the exit. The upbeat mood is evident in the bright conversation and laughter from everyone we pass, but it only makes me more anxious.
“What was she wearing?” William asks. Normally he keeps up fine with what Wren calls my “speed demon pace,” but maybe his pool slides are slowing him down.
“A red halter top and jeans. Cowboy boots.”
William nods, his eyes fixed on the parking lot.
A long line of cars are queued up, red brake lights glowing in the darkness. In the parking lot on either side, clusters of kids linger in the shadows, their laughter ringing in the air, and family members wait for their football player to emerge from the locker room. Morgan’s not in any of them.
“Let me just drop off my stuff,” William says, turning toward the closest row of parked cars. Zach, Sofie, and Linnea are huddled with Barb and Henry Hutton. When they see William, their faces light up.
“Congrats, Will!” Sofie says.
“Thanks,” he replies with a bright smile before dropping his gear into the back of the pickup.
“Hey, Charlie.” Zach shoots me a kind smile just as William says, “I’m gonna help Charlotte look for Morgan.”
“You need help?” Zach asks, his eyes going alert.
“No thanks,” I reply quickly. If Morgan’s MIA because she’s starting trouble, the last thing I want is help from a cop.
“Be right back,” William says to his brother. They lock eyes for an instant, and Zach nods.
We turn for the row of idling cars, exhaust curling into the night as it creeps forward. I scan for a head that could be Morgan’s.
A driver of a black jeep calls William’s name. He trots over. They slap hands and William asks about Morgan. The guy shakes his head.
Where the hell is she?
I walk alongside the row of cars, scanning, scanning. Then—two cars from the front of the line is a pickup truck with three people in the cab. The middle occupant is shorter, with sleek dark hair.
“Morgan!” I call over the idling engines. The truck creeps forward. I take off running.
“See her?” William says, falling in next to me, his sandals slapping against his feet .
“I think so. In that truck.” I point.
William races forward just as the truck pauses at the bottom of the exit, its left blinker flashing. He thumps the side of the truck with his palm. “Hold up!” he calls.
The driver jerks to a stop and whips his big head out of his window. He’s scowling, his dark eyes narrowed.
“Is Morgan in there?” Will asks before the guy can say anything.
A squeak comes from inside the cab. Morgan?
I get to the driver’s side window. The truck is so high off the ground I can only see the girl’s forehead.
She’s covering her face like she can hide, but I recognize her chipped yellow nail paint.
The guy on the other side of her has his arm across the back of the seat.
Almost like he’s ready to scoop my sister into his lap the second they’re off school property.
“Morgan, get out of the truck!” I say, my hands on my hips.
William locks eyes with the driver. Nobody says anything, but the guy jerks his chin at his friend. “Let her out.”
“The fuck?” the guy protests. A horn honks from behind us, startling me and inspiring a wave of horn honking up the row.
“Do it, man,” the driver says.
I race to the other side of the truck and yank on the door. The guy in the passenger seat doesn’t move to get out, forcing Morgan to crawl over his lap. His lewd look and the way his hands brush her ass as she does makes me want to punch him.
When Morgan steps down, I grab her hand and pull her up the narrow ramp of cars and into the parking lot, the gravel crunching under our shoes.
“What the hell, Mo?” I say once we’re far enough away.
She yanks her hand from mine, her eyes blazing. “I was just getting a ride.”
“A ride?” I do not want to think about the innuendos right now. “What happened to our plan to meet after the game?”
“You were taking too long. What’s the big deal? They said they’d take me home. ”
Eventually, maybe. Or the nearest ditch once they were through. “Do you even know them?”
She shrugs. “They’re friends with Yolanda and Greer.”
I don’t even know who these two are. Keeping up with Morgan’s social life is...exhausting. “You realize the second you get in someone’s car, you’re putting your life in their hands?”
She rolls her eyes. “He’s a senior. I think he’s trustworthy.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed. “I’m not talking about his driving capabilities.”
To my frustration, she laughs, throwing her head back. “Oh Char, you’re too much, you know that?”
“Look, in a perfect world, every guy you meet will act like a gentleman, but until their species evolves, you have to look out for yourself.”
Her smile turns coy. “What if I don’t want a gentleman?”
“You don’t actually mean that.” I shake my head. “You could get hurt, Mo. Like, really hurt.”
She must hear the undertone of terror in my voice, or maybe the buzz from being those two gorillas’ newest shiny object is starting to wear off because she sighs. “All right.”
“Let’s go find Theo.”
When we turn toward his truck, I catch William’s concerned gaze from across the parking lot.
Thank you , I mouth.
He gives a reassuring nod before turning away.
I watch for a moment longer, my stomach in knots. I don’t easily ask for help, so why was it so easy to accept it from William?