CHAPTER 6
MATTY
Sweat slicked the back of my neck as I pushed through another sprint, lungs burning, legs on fire. Parker was jawing at the O-line, Jace was laughing at something no one else thought was funny, and Coach blew his whistle in frustration.
I should’ve been focused on the drills we were doing, but my head wouldn’t shut up.
Everything had felt off all day, like my body was here but the rest of me was still trapped somewhere between my dad’s voice on the phone and the string of texts he’d been sending since.
Each one was another link, another thing he wanted me to buy, even though the money I’d already sent was supposedly for his overdue bills.
Aka. his gambling debts.
My stomach refused to unclench.
At least Jace was being his usual annoying self.
“So, remember Riley’s old roommate?” he started, shaking his arms and lining up for the route we were practicing.
“How could we forget?” I muttered. My voice came out rougher than I meant, but I couldn’t help it when he’d just brought up the world’s most terrifying person.
He grinned like he could feel my irritation. “She texted Riley.”
“What did Creepy McCreeper say?” Parker asked, his tone way too eager for someone who clearly didn’t grasp the trauma I was still trying to recover from.
He’d never actually met Emma. He hadn’t seen the way she stared like she was cataloging your organs for later.
All he knew were the stories Jace and I had told him about her fascination with femurs and her unsettling love of murderous clowns and iced milk.
You really had to meet Emma in person to understand just how much therapy she could make a man consider.
“She said her new roommate isn’t nearly as interesting to watch,” Jace said, sounding way too casual.
I froze mid-step. Fuck.
Just hearing her name out loud made me break into a cold sweat.
Emma was a walking nightmare of a person, a girl who made you question whether reality had short-circuited whenever she was around.
She had big eyes and a bigger smile, and that smile didn’t quite match the words coming from her mouth.
When Riley had started dating Jace, he somehow convinced me to distract Emma so he could sneak into Riley’s dorm room to “be near her.” Which translated to spy on her like a psychopath and sleep in her room without her knowing.
So I did it. I sat through the most terrifying date of my life while Emma told me she was “fascinated by human anatomy,” especially “the texture of femurs.” I’d spent the whole night wondering if she’d stolen a bone or two from a grave, or if she was secretly plotting how to get my bones out of me.
And now she was texting again.
“She—she’s texting her?” I asked, my voice coming out all weird and screechy.
Jace frowned. “Well, not anymore. Riley doesn’t even know how she got her phone number. She never gave it to her.”
She was probably hiding in Jace and Riley’s closet; that was probably how she got the number. I made a mental note to check every closet in our house when I got home. You could never be too careful.
“Riley thinks it was Emma’s attempt at being sweet…like in a definitely-should-have-ended-up-on-a-true-crime-podcast kinda way,” Jace mused.
Parker snorted. “Yes, real heartwarming. I bet she’s crying herself to sleep at night, clutching the hair she probably cut off Riley’s head while she was sleeping…like it’s an unrequited love story.”
See. I definitely needed to check the closets. And under the beds. And anywhere else a human-sized demon could be hiding.
Jace scrunched his nose up at that. “There’s no way she doesn’t have a playlist dedicated to Matty—one of those dramatic, longing ones. ‘I Will Always Love You,’ ‘Under My Skin,’ maybe ‘Every Breath You Take’—really good ones like that,” he mused.
I threw my water bottle at him. It hit his shin, which only made him grin harder.
I lined back up for the next drill, but my chest still felt tight. Maybe it was the pressure of the upcoming game. Maybe it was my dad. Maybe it was just me.
Coach blew the whistle, and we ran it again—routes, cuts, sprints. Jace cracked another joke about investments that hardly anyone laughed at. Usually, I’d at least toss something back, but I couldn’t find it in me.
My thoughts were everywhere, and as I was melting down into an existential crisis…I glanced out toward the parking lot.
The sight of her beat-up car had become part of the background noise of my life, like the smell of turf or the sound of helmets clashing. I didn’t look for it on purpose, not really. It was just…there. Every practice.
Except now, it wasn’t.
“Hey.” Jace bumped my shoulder. “Why aren’t you appropriately worshiping me right now?”
I didn’t answer. My jaw locked, my gaze fixed on the empty space where that car usually sat.
“What’s up with you?” Parker asked.
“She’s not here,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. A strange pressure built in my chest, heavy and restless, like something inside me had gone off-balance…like the world had shifted an inch to the left, and I was the only one who noticed.
“Who’s not here?”
I didn’t look at them. My throat felt dry. “Why isn’t she here?” I stopped, shaking my head.
“Who?” Parker asked again, obviously not getting that I was having a moment right then. “Your stalker?” He huffed. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yeah, Matty-boy, maybe she just finally decided to trade up and stalk someone funnier,” Jace added.
It didn’t feel good that she wasn’t there. It didn’t feel like relief. It felt wrong, as a matter of fact.
Something in my gut twisted, the same way it had when I saw my dad on my caller ID this morning. That crawling, anxious feeling that something was about to fall apart.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, the words barely above a whisper.
Before either of them could respond, I was already moving—helmet half off, cleats pounding against the turf as I sprinted toward the edge of the field, the sound of Coach calling my name fading behind me.
I sprinted across the field, my breath coming hard and uneven, the world narrowing to that one stretch of asphalt just beyond the chain-link fence. The turf gave way to gravel under my cleats, small rocks crunching underfoot as I cut toward the parking lot.
Her car wasn’t anywhere.
I slowed to a stop, chest heaving, eyes sweeping over the rows of vehicles like maybe I’d missed it—maybe she’d just parked somewhere else today. But there was no sign of that dented car, the one that always sat crooked between the lines like it didn’t care about the rules any more than she did.
Nothing.
The silence hit harder than I expected. Just the faint hum of traffic in the distance, a cold breeze brushing sweat from my neck, the whistle of the team still running drills behind me.
What the hell was I doing?
She was a stranger. A stalker. Someone who had been sitting out here for months watching me.
And yet the emptiness where her car should’ve been made my stomach twist. It was ridiculous. I should’ve felt relieved. Grateful, even. Instead, I just felt…wrong. Like I’d lost something I hadn’t realized I was holding on to.
I ran a hand over the back of my neck, trying to shake it off, but the unease clung to me. I turned in a slow circle, scanning every corner of the lot, half expecting her to pop out from behind a car. But there was nothing but sun glare and empty pavement staring back.
A shout echoed from the field. Coach.
I hesitated another second, then blew out a breath and jogged back, slower this time. My legs felt heavier than they had a minute ago. Each step toward the field pulled something tighter in my chest.
Coach’s whistle pierced the air the second my cleats hit the turf. “What the fuck, Adler?” he barked, his voice carrying across the field. “You feel like taking a jog in the middle of my drill?”
“Sorry, Coach,” I said, catching my breath. “Thought I saw a kid get hit by a car in the parking lot. False alarm.”
He stared at me incredulously for a long second, jaw working, then muttered something that sounded like Fucking hell, I’m surrounded by idiots before blowing the whistle again. “Get your head back in it.”
I nodded, falling back into formation. Jace shot me a slightly concerned look but didn’t say anything, something he would no doubt rectify the second practice was over. Parker smirked, mumbling something nonsensical about me being “struck by the curse,” but I barely heard him.
I grabbed my helmet, and slipped it on, the world narrowing again to drills and whistles. But underneath it all was still the strange, restless ache I couldn’t shake.
It felt like a part of me had gone missing somewhere in that parking lot.
And I couldn’t stop wondering if she’d taken it with her.
“Thank fuck,” Jace groaned, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. “One more drill, and my hamstrings were going to file a complaint.”
“Your hamstrings don’t work hard enough to complain,” Parker shot back, smirking as he toweled off.
Jace grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know what Parkie-poo? Just for that, I have one for you.”
“No,” I said immediately, still feeling decidedly grumpy and off-kilter after my stalker’s no-show…even with Coach’s attempt to kill us.
“I’m ready,” Garrett countered at the same time.
I glared at him for encouraging Jace. Jace had enough encouragement inside his head. He didn’t need anything externally.
Jace cleared his throat with mock solemnity. “What’s the difference between jam and jelly?”
Parker snorted. “Oh no.”
“I can’t jelly my—”
I slapped my hand over his mouth before he could finish. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
He laughed into my palm, then licked me like the feral bastard he was.
“Ugh—” I yanked my hand back so fast you’d think I’d touched a hot stove. “You’re disgusting.”
Jace doubled over cackling while Parker nearly dropped his water bottle from laughing so hard.