23. Zoey
23
Zoey
N oah holds my stare for a moment, and as a small smile begins kicking up the corner of his lips, he smothers it before dropping his gaze to Hazel at my side. Taking in the jersey he got her, he grins wide—that boyish one I used to love so much—and as Hazel beams beside me, Noah makes a face.
I roll my eyes, trying and failing to pretend that I don’t love their interactions, when Tarni’s hand falls away from mine. She leans into me, talking right into my ear to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “What the hell was that?” she demands, nodding toward Noah out on the field as the team huddles around Coach Martin.
“What was what?” I question, unease slowly pulsing through my veins.
“Noah,” she insists, a spark of jealousy and anger flashing in her blue eyes. “Why was he looking at you like that?”
“He wasn’t looking at me like anything,” I say, my back stiffening. “He was looking at Hazel. They were hanging out the other day and he invited her to his game. He gave her a jersey and everything.”
Tarni’s brows furrow, and she looks around me as if only just noticing my little sister beside me. “Oh,” she says with a bite in her tone before staring back toward the field, her eyes glued to Noah’s ass. “I didn’t realize he was so chummy with your family again.”
What in the fresh hell is her problem?
“He’s not,” I say, unsure why I feel the need to defend this—to her of all people. She’s the one person who should understand without an explanation. “His mom forced him over for dinner the other night, and he hid out in Hazel’s room to avoid having to talk to anyone.”
Her brows furrow, and her head whips right back toward me, gaping at me as though I’m a stranger. “What the hell, Zoey?” she snaps. “He was at your place, and you didn’t say anything? You could have invited me over. You know how much I like him.”
“It was a family dinner,” I argue. “Besides, Mom only told me they were coming like two seconds before they walked through the door.”
Tarni rolls her eyes and looks back toward the field, inching a step away before leaning toward Abby on her other side and whispering something in her ear that makes my blood run cold. Cora leans in to find out whatever’s being said, and as the three of them talk shit between themselves, I try not to think the worst, but that doesn’t stop me from scanning the already packed stands to see if there’s anywhere better that Hazel and I could watch the game from.
Having no luck, I focus on the field, watching as the two teams go through a few warm-ups, and before I know it, the game has started, and Hazel is going apeshit beside me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her cheer so loudly for anyone in my life.
Noah dominates the field, and as I watch him, the rest of the world fades away. He’s incredible out there. No wonder all of East View showed up to support him. Even Principal Daniels is watching him from the sidelines, trying to hide the fact that he’s secretly impressed while reveling in the fact that the one student he didn’t want is going to be responsible for putting this school on the map.
Coach Martin screams at his team from the sidelines as the cheerleaders shake their pom-poms, really getting into the whole school spirit.
The Mambas are up against the Scheyville High Titans, and so far, the game is evenly matched. Only, the Titans don’t have Noah Ryan.
Hazel cheers non-stop beside me, but the moment Noah gets the ball, her shrill shrieks become deafening. Her excitement is contagious, and I find myself cheering right along with her. Every second of this feels so damn right.
When the Mambas get through their opponent’s defenses and score a game-changing touchdown, Noah looks up at us, and I can’t find it within me to tear the smile off my face.
He’s not even the one who scored the touchdown, but that doesn’t change a thing. He’s just ecstatic that we’re here, supporting him just like we used to. His smile is dazzling, and seeing that undeniable happiness shining in his eyes makes me so damn proud. I would give anything to be able to run down the stairs of the grandstand and throw myself into his arms. God, I wish things could be the way they used to be before Linc . . .
Noah Ryan is going places, and as soon as he learns how to navigate the darkness swirling within him, he’s going to fly. I just hope that when he does, I get to be right there watching from the sidelines.
As the game swings back into action and Noah’s gaze falls back to the field, I see Tarni from the corner of my eye, her curious gaze lingering on me, but I pretend I don’t see her. I’m not in the mood to give her the attention she wants. I don’t even know how to answer whatever bullshit questions she’s going to throw at me. Instead, I hold Hazel’s hand and cheer for the Mambas, more than intent on enjoying this moment with my sister.
We’re about ten minutes from halftime, and my throat aches from screaming and laughing with Hazel. That’s when I catch sight of Shannan at the bottom of the stairs. She looks up and waves, and judging by the movement from the row behind us, I can only assume we’re sitting directly in front of her friends.
Lucky us.
I ignore her, my gaze shifting back to the game, only when Shannan breaks away from the group of cheerleaders at the bottom and races up the stairs, my stomach sinks.
Shit. There’s no way I’m going to get away from this without something happening in front of Hazel. I wanted to shield her from all of Shannan’s taunts, but I suppose I just ran out of luck.
I keep my gaze locked on the field, watching Noah as he expertly catches the ball and scans the array of players, looking at them like toy soldiers he can manipulate to do his bidding. As Shannan scooches along to the row behind me to reach her friends, I stop cheering. I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to myself, but I don’t dare tell Hazel to stop. It’s not fair to ruin her fun just because the nasty cow behind me has forced the fear of humiliation into my soul.
The girls behind us squeal and laugh, and I hear a lot of OMG’s and like totally’s, but I zone them out. Only when a disgusted scoff fills the air, my back stiffens. “Look at this bitch wearing Noah’s jersey like a desperate whore.”
No fucking way did she just say that about my sister. An eleven-year-old girl. An innocent little girl who’s only here to support someone she’s always looked up to.
Hazel’s hand tightens in mine, and she stands as still as a statue, clearly having heard Shannan, but I squeeze her hand. “Ignore her,” I urge. “She’ll go away soon.”
Glancing at Hazel, I see the way she clenches her jaw, and her eyes fill with tears. I don’t doubt that she’s had her fair share of bullies, every girl has, but I can guarantee that at eleven years old, she’s never had a senior high school cheerleader call her a desperate whore.
God. I’m so fucking angry.
“Oh my god. It all makes sense,” Shannan says. “The whore is with the trash. Why am I not surprised to find them together? Both of them pining over what they can’t have. God, that’s so embarrassing.”
I close my eyes, trying to count to ten, waiting for the bullshit to fade away. Hazel is tall, and I’m sure if Shannan knew it was a child she was currently calling a whore, she’d be horrified by herself, but that’s absolutely no excuse.
The bullshit keeps coming, and the snickering at Hazel’s back makes her tears overflow and streak down her cheeks. She hastily wipes at her eyes, and my heart breaks for her. She should never have been exposed to this. She’s too young.
The insults keep coming, one after another, and when Hazel’s bottom lip wobbles, I clench my jaw. I’ve had more than enough. It’s one thing for this bitch to call me trash, but bringing my sister into it? She’s got another thing coming.
I whip around, and the explosive anger in my chest threatens to cripple me. I’m more than aware of just how quiet Tarni is beside me. A smirk settles over Shannan’s face, clearly seeing how she’s affected me. “What the hell is your problem?” I spit. “Are you so desperate for Noah that you have to tear down everyone who might possibly stand in your way?”
Shannan scoffs. “Are you implying that you think you could ever be standing in my way when it comes to Noah Ryan? Look at you, Zoey. You’re a joke. Fucking pathetic. You don’t stand a fucking chance with him, so take yourself and your little slutty friend and get the hell out of here. No one wants you here.”
I gape at her, unable to comprehend how she could possibly be so vile. “That little slutty friend you’re talking about, the one you’ve been calling a desperate whore for the last ten minutes is—”
Hazel whips around, her head held so damn high I almost don’t recognize her. “Noah’s eleven-year-old sister,” she finishes for me, slightly changing how the end of my sentence was supposed to go.
Shannan’s face falls. “Wait you’re—”
“A child? Yeah,” Hazel spits. “Now, I don’t know about you, but my brother probably isn’t going to be too happy when he learns about this. I can only imagine what he’s going to say. You know, he’s very protective of me.”
Shannan blanches and even goes as far as to look at me for confirmation, but there’s no way in hell I’m about to clear this one up. Besides, growing up, Noah was always like a brother to Hazel anyway, so I suppose there’s some level of truth to it . . . kind of.
“Wow,” I say, blowing my cheeks out, exaggerating my response. “You’re fucked.”
Shannan looks back at Hazel. “I’m sorry, okay,” she says, clearly having no concept of a heartfelt apology. “I didn’t realize you were a kid.”
“Oh, so if I wasn’t a kid, that would have made it okay?”
“I . . .” Shannan trails off, and a smugness tears through me, filling my body with the sweetest kind of elation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shannan lost for words. “Look, please just keep your mouth shut about it. I was having a little fun with you. It was just a joke.”
“Right. Fun. That’s what we call sexualizing children.”
Shannan blanches again, and I gape at Hazel, wondering where the hell she learned that, but my questions will have to wait until Shannan decides she’s had enough and takes off.
The second she turns and sprints down the stairs, Hazel and I turn back around, and when we do, she lets go of the fear, and the tears burst from her green eyes, sailing down her cheeks like rivers. I throw my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. “Welcome to high school,” I tell her, running my fingers through her hair. “It’s okay. You just took down the queen of the school. Most people can only dream of doing something like that.”
“I never want to be like her.”
“You never will be. Your heart is too pure. It’s not possible.”
Hazel wipes her eyes and pulls out of my arms to focus on the game, but I can tell she’s no longer interested. She pulls at Noah’s jersey as though she’s never been so uncomfortable in her life. The idea that someone could think something so un-pure of her simply for wanting to show support to someone she’s looked up to her whole life makes her second guess herself.
My heart breaks for her, and I nudge her with my elbow. “You don’t have to wear it,” I tell her. “He’ll understand.”
As if desperately needing that approval, she shrugs the offending jersey over her head, and I take it from her, bunching it up in my hands. The clock counts down the final few seconds before halftime, and when the crowd roars for the Mambas, who are now decently ahead, Hazel glances up at me. “Is this the end?” she whispers, a hopeful tone in her voice.
“No,” I tell her. “It’s only halftime, but we don’t have to stay. If you want to go, we can.”
“Oh.” Hazel spares a glance toward the field to where Noah stands huddled with his team, his eyes glued on us, and his brows furrowed. “Do you think . . . Will he be sad if we go home?”
“Of course not,” I tell her. “But you know Noah. He’s going to demand answers. As soon as he’s done here, I guarantee he’ll be knocking down your door wanting to know what happened. So as long as you’re good with that and feel confident in talking with him about it, then we’re good to go. Otherwise, we’re going to have to stay and play the part. But just between you and me, he’s already watching us, and judging by the look on his face, he knows something’s up.”
Hazel’s gaze snaps up, her eyes widening, and seeing the concern in Noah’s curious stare, she gasps. “Oh no. Do you think we can get out of here before he notices we’re gone?”
“No chance in hell,” I laugh, thinking of the way he’s able to find me in an overcrowded room as though I had screamed his name. “But considering Coach Martin’s tendency to give really long pep talks, we might be able to make a break for it while Coach is demanding his undivided attention.”
Hazel nods, determination flashing in her eyes. “Deal.”
With that, we make a break for it, squeezing our way past the other people in our row before clutching each other’s hands and bounding down the stairs. I feel Noah’s gaze on us every step of the way, and for a moment, I wonder if we can blend in with the other people taking toilet breaks during halftime, but he saw the look in my eyes. He knows we’re leaving.
We hit the ground and hurry through the throng of bodies, and just when we approach the student parking lot and think we’re home free, that deep tone that haunts my every moment cuts through the night. “Where the hell are you going?”
Hazel and I stop to glance back, and as I take in Noah with his helmet braced against his hip, I can’t help but see the hurt flashing in his eyes. But he doesn’t get to hurt. If it weren’t for him, Hazel wouldn’t have been exposed to that ugliness. Though, I suppose that’s not fair. He’s not responsible for how Shannan behaved, but he was certainly responsible for putting her in that position in the first place.
“I’m taking her home, Noah,” I say, glancing back toward the field where Coach Martin is looking this way, and judging by the look on his face, Noah certainly didn’t receive approval to come over here. “Go back to your team before you get in trouble.”
His gaze flicks to Hazel, scanning over her face, not giving a single care for the team back on the field. “What happened?”
“What happened is that you gave Hazel a jersey with your name on it and painted a big red target on her back the same way you did me,” I say, taking the scrunched-up jersey from my hand and throwing it into his chest, unsure why I feel so angry with him when all he did was invite an adoring fan to his first game of the season. “It’s one thing for your harem of cheerleading skanks to attack me and call me trash just for knowing you, but for that same bullshit to be aimed at Hazel? That’s not okay.”
Understanding dawns, and horror flashes in his eyes as he quickly closes the distance between us, grabbing Hazel and pulling her against his chest, his arm circling around her body. She tries to hold herself together, but it’s clear that Shannan’s words are still hitting hard.
Noah drops a kiss to her temple as though she’s the most precious little girl in the world. “I’ll fix it,” he says, ignoring Coach Martin’s demand that he get his ass back to the field.
“Fix it?” I scoff, anger lacing my veins and filling me with ugliness. “How the hell are you going to do that? She’s already been exposed to it. No amount of fixing can change that.”
Noah curses under his breath before letting out a pained sigh and holding my gaze. “Zoey, I . . . Fuck. I know I’ve done nothing but let you down, but I’m asking you to have faith in me. I’m going to fix this.”
I hold his stare for a moment when Coach Martin’s bellowing cuts through the silence, and we all glance back to find him a shitload closer than he was before, his face red with anger. “Noah Ryan, you get your goddamn ass back on my field right this fucking minute, otherwise, you’ll be warming the bench for the whole damn season.”
“Shit,” Noah mutters, releasing his hold on Hazel and glancing back over his shoulder to see his coach, and as I glance back in the same direction, I can’t help but notice two sets of eyes locked on us—Tarni looking as though she wants to murder me, and Shannan looking as though her whole world just came crumbling down.
Noah still hovers, and I step closer, giving him a little shove, hating the zap of electricity that burns between us as my fingers skim across his skin. “Go, Noah,” I tell him. “Hazel will be fine. We’ll stop for chocolate sundaes on the way home.”
He meets my stare, and the reluctance in his eyes tells me there’s still so much he wants to say, things that he’s left unsaid for years. But now isn’t the time.
“Go,” I urge.
Pain flashes in his eyes, and he quickly glances away, looking down at Hazel and ruffling his hand over her hair, the same way he used to do to Linc. Hazel laughs and swats him away, then before he can convince himself to say something he’s probably not ready to say, he shoves the jersey back into Hazel’s hands and takes off at a jog back to the field.
Slinging my arm over Hazel’s shoulder, we make our way back to my Range Rover, then just as I go to reach for the door, I stop, pulling Hazel to a halt at my side. “Remember how Noah and Linc would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect us?”
Hazel nods, her brows furrowed as she looks up at me.
“Wanna bet Noah still will?”
With that, we turn back to the field just in time to see Noah stride straight past his bellowing coach and the other exhausted football players, and the rigid way he holds his shoulders tells me shit is about to go down.
Shannan sees him coming a mile away, and I listen to Hazel’s sharp gasp as she realizes what’s happening. Then in front of the entire school, Principal Daniels, and the opposing team, Noah strides right into Shannan and backs her up against the boards of the grandstand until she’s trapped there.
The terror in her eyes is visible from here, and I watch as he leans into her and says something in her ear, not laying a single finger on her as the color drains from her face. And with that, he’s done with her. He pushes away and walks back toward his teammates while Shannan drops to the ground, shaking against the boards, her arms locking around her knees as tears stream down her face.