Chapter 5
PERIS
Sweat beads across my forehead, soaking into my hair and dripping in my eyes. I push it back with an angry swipe, growling loudly when Jordan slips past me yet again and shoots another three within the past five minutes.
I flex the fingers on my right hand, feeling the burning ache radiating up my arm.
“Damn, Baxter,” he muses as he walks up to me a moment later, cocky fucking grin in place. “Head not screwed on right today?”
“I’ll fucking knock yours right off your goddamn shoulders if you don’t shut the fuck up,” I growl right back, uncaring that Coach is right across from us.
He doesn’t seem to care either, too engrossed in the plays from the way his head is buried in his notes.
Good for me, too, because I can’t afford to miss a game.
I need this.
“Touchy, touchy…” he drawls, coming closer, and I feel every muscle in my back tense for a fight. This stupid motherfucker not only took my scholarship, but he also took my captain’s spot and wants to run his mouth. After the week I’ve had. Month… year… hell, life!
“I’ll fucking ki—”
“Aaand that’s enough of that,” Gabe says easily as he swoops in behind me and clamps his arms around my biceps and spins me around. “Jordan, quit being a dick. Peris, let’s… go over here.”
“What did I do?” Jordan says, sounding truly confused as Gabe ushers me away from the prick and toward the water bottles.
I swipe mine up with a grunt and squirt a bunch of water into my mouth with a grimace, eyes trained on Jordan Bates’s stupid fucking face.
Because of course the dumb motherfucker had to follow me to the same university.
Had to join the same team. Had to take my scholarship and my team and make it his…
“You’re fixating again,” Gabriel says, and my eyes snap to his.
“Am not,” I bite, fingers clamping on the plastic, making it creak.
“You’re staring at him like you want to either kill him or kiss him.”
I splutter at the insinuation. “Fuck you, bud. Like you don’t?” I ask, refusing to acknowledge the last part of his sentence—and he knows it.
“I don’t have anything against Jordan, Peris.”
I rear back, offended. And shocked. Locking my molars together, I grit out, “I told you what he said—what he did—”
“Yes.” He nods, solemn. “But we were kids back then. I think he deserves a second chance. In case you forgot, you said and did shit that you probably didn’t mean that I forgave you for.”
The reminder of that makes me freeze, and I blink a few times at Gabe and the stark reminder of who I used to be—an angry little kid filled with so much hate, I would spew it at my best friend and not even see how much hurt I was causing him…
I’m doing it all over again.
And I don’t care.
Again.
Fuck. I really am a piece of shit.
“You just want to forgive him for what he did?” I ask, ignoring everything else because that’s what I’m good at.
Gabe sighs loudly like I’m annoying him.
“I don’t have anything to forgive him for.
He didn’t do shit to me, Peris. He hurt you.
And Abel.” I flinch at his name being said so casually, but Gabriel pretends like he didn’t see anything.
“I have already talked to him about this, and I think you would benefit from the same. If you would ever get off your high horse.”
“He’s a homophobic piece of shit,” I snarl, fingers clenching into tight fists at my sides.
Gabe raises a brow slowly. So slowly, I start to feel my skin crawl with the sensation of perception. Like he can see more than what’s on the outside—what I want others to see.
“Okay, Peris,” he finally concedes with a sigh after what feels like forever but is probably only thirty seconds.
“Don’t act like where I’m coming from is some crazy place that doesn’t make sense!
It’s not even about that. He took my scholarship.
My place on the team. He took what I was supposed to have.
He has my life.” By the time I’ve finished my rant, I’m panting, and my eyes sting oddly.
I blink a few times, trying to clear the burning, but it persists, and my fucking hand aches as if the reminder makes the healed bones hurt more.
Gabe stares at me oddly, and I hate the way he’s perceiving me, so I turn my back on him to look out at the team running drills, Jordan at the center of it all with Coach overseeing.
The sight leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.
Even though I know we’re one of the best teams of the year and we’re getting ready for March Madness, I can’t help but feel indignant that it’s because of him and not me.
I could’ve had it all. The team, the boy. The life.
And I have none of it because I’ve been set for ruin since the moment he touched me.
“Have you talked to your mom?”
I whirl around, my mask of indifference slipping in an instant and replaced with pulsing anger. “How fucking dare you?” I snarl.
“Yes. How dare I care. Right, Peris?” A rare flash of anger flickers across Gabriel’s face, bringing me pause. He’s usually good at remaining calm and collected—at keeping himself together when I’m falling apart. “She’s suffering.”
Every muscle stiffens at that. “She’s not,” I deny. She can’t be. It’s Ma. She’s strong. She can deal with it.
Because I can’t.
Gabe laughs, but it’s cold and mocking and sends gooseflesh scattering across my skin.
“How can you even say that? Of course, she is. She’s dealing with him all on her own while still trying to keep you protected.
And I’m assuming she’s still doing a pretty damn good job of it if he still hasn’t gotten ahold of you. ”
I snarl. “That’s none of your fucking business.”
I don’t tell him about the phone calls I don’t answer. They could only be from him.
“Of course, it’s my business!” Gabe shouts in a rare burst of anger, causing a few people on the team to look over—including Jordan.
His brows furrow as he stares at us, and I barely resist the urge to flip him off, but my mind is elsewhere.
“It’s been my business since the moment you came to me and told me the truth.
You don’t get to throw that in my fucking face, Peris!
” he hisses venomously, and I rear back, stumbling as he shoves his hand against my chest.
“And all I’m trying to do is keep this fucking family together because that’s who you guys are to me. You’re my family. But you don’t make it easy. With your drinking and your anger and your mom’s depression. It’s been hell for me, but you don’t care because it’s all about Peris all the damn time.
“Try to think about anyone other than yourself.” And with that, he spins on his heels and stomps away from me, chest still heaving with every deep breath he pulls in.
The rest of the team has stopped playing and is just standing around, staring at the loud display we just made in front of everyone.
My face heats in shame, but I hold my ground.
“The hell are you looking at?” I shout, face red-hot and burning.
Jordan makes his way toward me, and I look up at the ceiling, praying to whatever Gods exist to just give me a fucking break before I really lose it.
“Good question, Baxter,” he drawls. “Sounds like a real messy situation.”
“Bates,” I sigh, jaw clenched, “if you don’t shut—”
“Relax,” he snaps. “Practice is over—for you. Go home and get some sleep. You look like shit, and you stink like booze. Sounds like you’ve got some shit to work out.”
“I don’t need to go home,” I grit out.
He smirks, and I want to slap it off his stupid fucking face. “Good thing I’m not asking. As your captain, I’m telling you. Go home. Sleep. Drink some fucking water and come back tomorrow with a better attitude. I need you well rested for the game.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, teeth bared.
“Atta boy.” Jordan grins at me, two full rows of bright white teeth bared, and I don’t think I’ve ever hated the prick more.
“Fuck this!” I whirl around and stomp to my bag, throwing it over my shoulder with a snarl as I move across the gym, hating the feeling of everyone’s eyes on me as I leave.
“I hope you feel better by tomorrow, Baxter,” Coach calls behind me, and my footsteps falter at the reminder that I’m not alone and I’m basically throwing a fucking fit in front of him and… for fuck’s sake…
“Thanks, Coach. Me, too,” I call over my shoulder just before I leave the practice courts and step out into the frigid air. Autumn is about over with, and it can be felt in the bitterness of the breeze as it washes over my heated skin.
Starting my trek toward home, I pull out a cigarette and light it, already feeling the effects in my lungs. I know I should quit—it’s the worst fucking thing I could do as a player—but there’s something about it… it makes me feel closer to him for some reason or another. I don’t really know.
All I do know is I can’t quit.
So, I take drag after drag off my cigarette, and when it reaches the butt, I flick it into the air and light another with ease, already pulling the toxic smoke into my lungs with a grateful inhale.
The sky is bright above, only a few clouds lingering in the deep blue oasis they’re stuck in. I watch them roam aimlessly, feeling kinship with water, of all fucking things. The way it’s stuck up there, forced to become whatever, do whatever. Just waiting.
I scoff at the thought. Maybe all the alcohol I’ve consumed has finally started to eat away at my brain for me to start having such ridiculous fucking thoughts.
Needing to clear my head, I stick the butt of my cigarette between my lips and pull out my phone. I scroll through my contacts until I reach Skylar’s name. She’s in class, but I know she’ll answer me.
She always does.
Me:
You busy?
As I wait for her to respond, I finish my smoke and flick the butt across the street, watching it bounce across the concrete, the cherry sailing through the air before it lands in a small puddle of water, extinguished.
How apt.
My phone buzzes.
Skylar:
In class, what’s up?
Me:
Come over. I’m bored.
Skylar: