Chapter Two Vaughn
Chapter Two
Vaughn
She said no.
My mind spins, as it’s done all day, on Algebra II and Lacey and what the hell I’m going to do about my grade.
It’s the most I’ve thought about school all year, which is likely why I’m in this situation.
I can’t believe she said no. I mean, I expected her to say no, especially after I put my foot in my mouth almost immediately when I approached her, but I hoped she’d say yes. Now I don’t know what I’m going to do. It isn’t like I want a tutor.
I’ve always been self-sufficient. Work hard, and if that isn’t enough, work harder. Only my life philosophy seems to be failing me because I studied my ass off for the last test and still didn’t pass.
Asking Lacey was the last thing I wanted to do.
I hate needing help, and I hate asking for it even more.
It’s embarrassing. I’m used to people looking up to me: my teammates, my peers.
Admitting I’m failing at something feels like I’m letting myself, and everyone else, down.
Like I’m no longer who they expect me to be.
People look to me to lead the soccer team to another State Championship, not fail math.
If I can’t pass it though…my throat tightens and I swallow thickly. I can’t even think about it.
The bleachers shake as Rowan bounces beside me. The Frost Lake hockey team scores a goal, and the crowd is on their feet, including Rowan, who fuels all his adrenaline for our upcoming soccer game into cheering.
I clap and cheer along with the rest of my friends and teammates, but I can’t summon any real excitement. The district tournament starts this weekend. It’s the beginning of what we all hope is a long month of soccer that ends with us hoisting up another State Championship trophy.
The season has been filled with ups and downs, but we’re playing better than ever, and everyone is anxious to prove we’re still the best team in the state.
No one feels the pressure to prove themselves more than me. It’s my third year on varsity and first as captain. It feels like my entire life has been leading up to this. My first shot to show people that the son of soccer legend Jude Collins isn’t some wannabe, no-talent nepo baby.
“We are going to dominate Brayson this weekend,” Rowan says as he sits back down. All night it’s been nonstop chatter about our upcoming soccer game.
“Their goalie has made some mean saves this season,” Austin says.
“Nothing like Pacific’s goalie. We’ll most likely face him in the State Semifinals at some point if we make it that far,” Rowan adds.
Eddie Whitlock turns slightly from the bleacher in front of us and over his shoulder says, “When we make it that far.”
The guys continue talking about our upcoming games while we watch Frost Lake’s hockey team extend their lead.
By the end of the second period, it’s five to zero.
Most of the crowd trickles out at intermission.
Austin and I are all that’s left of the team; the rest are hitting up the concession or heading home early.
I should go home and study, but that doesn’t really seem to be helping me. True, I could have put more effort in earlier in the semester, but since I’ve really buckled down, it hasn’t made a bit of difference.
Austin slides closer to me, but his gaze is on the ice where the hockey cheerleaders, including Claire, skate out to the center.
Music starts up and they skate to complicated choreography that has the remaining fans smiling and clapping.
Claire’s a talented figure skater. I have no doubt she would have made it to the Olympics if it weren’t for some injuries that ultimately forced her to quit.
She recently joined the hockey cheer squad, and while the others are pretty good skaters, all eyes are on her as she pulls one leg up behind her and spins around in a quick, tight circle to end the number.
Austin stands and cups his hand around his mouth. “Wooo! Go, Claire!”
She glances over at him when she comes to a stop, looking embarrassed and giddy all at once. The cheerleaders exit off the ice the same way they came.
“She was fire, right?” Austin asks, still standing and clapping.
“Yeah. She was great.” I chuckle softly at his enthusiasm.
“Sorry if that’s weird.” He offers a slightly apologetic smile as he faces me.
The crowd won’t let up, screaming and clapping for all the cheerleaders, but especially Claire. People are excited to watch someone of her caliber skate, even if it’s just for a few minutes between hockey periods.
Claire eventually steps back onto the ice to the standing ovation and waves her thanks.
Austin goes back to calling out her name and whistling, and I think about what he said.
Is it weird that he’s dating my ex-girlfriend?
Sometimes. Like now, when he’s practically beaming at her.
Did I ever look at Claire like that? It was different for us.
Maybe it’s because she was my first love or maybe I was just that bad of a boyfriend.
I don’t know. But I do know she seems happier since they got together.
I think what I feel is melancholy more than anything else.
Claire’s great. If I couldn’t make it work with her, then it feels like maybe the problem is me.
I don’t know if I could ever be that kind of boyfriend girls want, but it doesn’t matter, because between soccer and school there isn’t a lot of available time for anything else.
When the applause finally dies down and Claire exits the ice for good, Austin sits back beside me.
“No,” I tell him when he looks at me expectantly. “As long as you don’t start telling me all the details about hooking up with her, I think I can manage.”
“Deal,” Austin says, smirking.
We fall quiet for a moment. My buddy leans back, resting against the empty bleacher behind us. “You’ve been pretty quiet tonight. Are you worried about the game against Brayson?”
“No.” I shake my head. “If we play like I know we’re capable of, then I’m confident we can win.”
“But?” His brows inch up. “I feel like there’s a but coming.”
A smile loosens my lips. Even though he only joined the team at the beginning of this season, Austin’s been a great addition.
We have a similar level of focus and dedication.
Some guys play because they’ve always played.
Their parents signed them up as kids and they’ve just kept playing.
Others love the team aspect of soccer but don’t want to put in the work it takes.
But Austin is a rare talent who loves it and wants to spend every day working to get better.
Honestly, having him on the team makes me feel more normal.
My dad may have put a ball in my hands at a young age, but there’s nothing I love more than soccer, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep playing for as long as I can.
“I’m not worried about Brayson,” I say more definitively.
“Okay.” His brows pinch together, and he continues to stare at me.
“My mind is occupied with other things. School is kicking my butt right now.”
“Yeah. I feel you. The teachers have piled on lately. Everything’s good though?”
Austin and some of the other guys are aware I’ve been struggling in algebra, so he wouldn’t be surprised if I told him I’m panicking about my test next week. If I don’t pass it, then I’m going to drop below the minimum grade needed to play on the team. But I give my head a nod. “All good.”
As people trickle back down to the bleachers for the start of the next period, I find myself on the outskirts of conversations. My worries have me too distracted to follow along.
When I spot Lacey, though, I snap out of it. She’s with a group of cheerleaders. They’re all talking and laughing, but her steps slow when she notices me, and she falls back.
“Hi,” she says tentatively, as the rest of her friends take a seat in the row in front of me.
“Lacey.” I sit tall.
She smiles slightly, one side of her mouth pulling higher.
Lacey Kerr is the single happiest person I know.
She’s always smiling and has a kind word for the people around her.
I’m probably the only person in the school she doesn’t like.
Instead of her full, wide smile, I get this version.
To be honest, I don’t mind it. I’m glad she doesn’t pretend to like me, giving me fake smiles and kind words she doesn’t mean. I respect her a lot more for it.
I knew asking her to help me was a long shot, and I’m not surprised she isn’t jumping at the chance to help me. I don’t think Lacey has ever liked me. Even when I was dating Claire, she wasn’t my biggest fan. She told me once that I needed to lighten up. Whatever that means.
But she’s smart and always manages to keep up with her grades despite being involved with cheerleading and other school clubs. She’s doing something right.
She looks like she wants to say something now, but the last thing I want to talk about in front of my teammates is algebra. Especially if she’s just going to remind me that she doesn’t tutor people. Despite everything, it still stings that she said no.
“I wanted to give you this.” She sticks out a piece of paper to me that I hadn’t realized she was holding.
I take it hesitantly. Her neat handwriting fills the scrap of lined paper with a name and number. “It’s Caleb’s number. He’s smart, and he’s tutored people before. I asked him in sixth period if it was okay if I shared his information, so he knows someone might text him.”
My skin feels tight and heat creeps up my neck. I glance around, but no one is paying us any mind. I wish that made me feel better.
“I didn’t tell him it was you. I figured you’d prefer that.”
Somehow that makes me feel even worse.
Lacey’s still standing in front of me expectantly. Neither of us seems to know what to say next. Her friend Andie grabs her arm as the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of intermission.
“Come on. I want to sit before it starts,” Andie says.
Lacey gives me a small smile as she follows her to their seats.
“Thanks.” I tip my head in a nod as she finally turns her head, breaking our gaze.