Chapter 25
Dante
Three days after a fight, and my body still hurt.
My face still sported the bruises, ribs still not happy about a deep breath, and my shoulder still reminding me what it felt like to have a three-hundred-and-ten-pound lump of man land on you just as your arm let fly and you both crash down on solid ground.
My painkillers weren’t working, and every time I reached for one, I saw her arched eyebrow. That was new and unwelcome.
Noah and I had our third day of extra training, and I was beginning to think I might just lie down on the ground and weep. These fuckers were definitely trying to kill me.
Fucking suicide runs on legs that had already spent hours training were slaying me. I had it down to just throwing up once, but I preferred to keep my lunch inside my body. Not out of it.
“You look like shit.”
“Dustin Slater, everyone. Friend or foe?” I grumbled as I wiped my mouth.
He was freshly showered, in his shorts, Lions T-shirt, hoodie, and feeling no pain at all.
Whereas I was feeling all the pain.
“Are you moping?” Dust asked from the bench where he was half sprawled out, reveling in our misery. Noah was doing better, but not by much.
“I might be feeling sorry for myself,” I conceded grudgingly.
“Coach!” Dustin yelled to Coach Hembry, who, I was sure, was reading a fucking e-book. “Think you broke the starting quarterback!”
“Excellent!” Coach Hembry didn’t lift his head. “Spence, three more suicides to the thirty.”
“I hate you,” I told Dustin as I straightened and jogged to the end zone and then ran my suicides, Slater’s cackling laughter in my ear.
When the whistle finally called, I no longer cared and lay down on the turf. Let me die here, it was fine. I was ready.
A shadow fell over me, my roommate’s smiling face, as he stooped down and offered me his arm. “C’mon, pussy, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Dustin said with a wide grin.
“I’m done,” I told him, but then Noah was there, and they both hauled me to my feet. “Why are you still standing?” I asked Noah.
“Stamina. Women fucking love me.”
I laughed. It hurt. I laughed harder.
“If you can laugh, you can do it twice as hard tomorrow,” Hembry said, still glued to his tablet.
“If I cry, do I get to go easy?” I wasn’t sure if I was serious.
“Shower. Be grateful I’m not Sutherland or Holt, that would have got you an extra suicide.”
My friends pulled my ass away before I said anything else.
In the shower, I leaned against the wall and let the water soothe my aches and pains.
I was running low on painkillers, and the thought of having to ask for more made me sure I didn’t need them.
Right up to points like now, when I knew I needed something to ease the pain.
With my head against the wall, I reflected on the day.
The whole practice had been a shitshow — timing off, routes sloppy, and every damn throw felt like it was tugging the ache in my shoulder just a little deeper. Nobody said it, but I knew they were judging my every move.
I finally turned off the water and went back to get dressed. I yanked my hoodie over my head, jaw clenched, and saw Noah stretched out on a bench, scrolling through his phone, as casual as if he hadn’t just been running drills until he nearly collapsed.
“Shoulder still niggling?” he asked, trying to make it sound casual, and failing.
“Yeah, it’ll get there,” I muttered, pulling my bag from my locker. I looked around. “Where’s our charming roommate?”
Noah stood, stretched, and then leaned against the locker beside me. “Said something about a girl, didn’t catch her name.”
“I doubt he will either,” I muttered dryly.
He gave me one of those looks. “He’s popular.”
“Yeah. Smooth talker.” I picked up my bag. “I’m starving.”
We walked to the dining hall in relative silence. Noah wasn’t much of a talker, and I appreciated that. Sometimes you didn’t need chatter to fill the space. The quiet was just as welcome.
“I don’t know if I should say anything . . .” He took a deep breath. “I saw Savvy this afternoon and she looked upset.”
And there went my peace and quiet.
His saying her name like that hit me harder than he did as a linebacker. I froze, and the air between us suddenly grew heavy.
Noah didn’t back off, didn’t even blink.
“Thought so,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Your mind’s not on practice; I get it, sometimes mine isn’t either.
But then I remember that football is the ticket, man.
And you can lie to yourself all you want, but you getting yourself in knots like this?
” He glanced at me. “I don’t care what you tell yourself, but she’s more than a distraction. ”
“What did you call her?” My fists were clenched at my sides, every instinct screaming not to react.
He looked confused for a moment. “Savvy? She said her friends call her Savvy.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I thought that was cool of her . . . to, you know, offer that.” He grimaced. “But judging by the death glare you’re giving me, I’m guessing that’s a no?”
The silence stretched, and the weight in my chest said more than words ever could.
“Careful, man,” Noah added, his tone softer now. “If she’s under your skin this bad, she’s already got leverage, and you’re in deep.”
I started walking again, muttering, “Mind your own business.” But the echo of her name stuck, circling me like a damn play I couldn’t shake, no matter how many times I ran it in my head.
I stopped again. He didn’t seem surprised.
“Why was she upset?”
“I don’t know, but I offered her a hug. She took it like she was desperate.”
I wasn’t sure if my mouth was hanging open. “You hugged her?”
“Jesus, man, I didn’t fuck her.”
The hit was solid, but he barely moved. He rubbed his jaw from where I punched him.
“Fuck.” I hung my head. “Look, I’m . . . Fuck, I’m sor—” His punch landed hard. I waggled my jaw, sure it was broken, and glared at him. “I was fucking apologizing!”
Noah half shrugged. “Mustn’t have heard it.”
We resumed walking. Noah spat on the grass. I rubbed my jaw. We exchanged a glance, and we both grinned as we looked away.
I lasted maybe five minutes. Five minutes of pretending to scroll my phone, of replaying every snap from practice in my head, of telling myself that Noah was full of shit.
Except he wasn’t. I knew he wasn’t.
“Aw fuck, I need to go see her,” I said to him, slowing down as the dorms came into view.
“Not really sure what you’re waiting for.” He kept walking. “Catch you later. Tomorrow I’ll tell Coach you need the PT. Your right arm’s definitely lacking power.”
“Asshole.”
I laughed when he gave me a one-fingered salute.
Turning around, I headed to the shed. I had a good feeling she’d be there. Why was she upset? Was it me? I didn’t love the thrill of delight that gave me.
I cut across campus, hood up, earbuds in with no music playing, just the buffer of looking occupied. The night was damp, heavy with the smell of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. Lights spilled out of the library windows, but I didn’t even slow down.
The light was on in her shed. My knuckles rapped against the wooden door before I could second-guess myself. No plan. No excuse. Just the weight in my chest that wouldn’t ease up unless I saw her.
Silence.
Then the scrape of a stool, the clang of glass against metal, and finally her voice, muffled and cautious. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” My tone came out rougher than I intended. “Open up.”
A pause. Long enough for me to think she’d ignore me. Then the lock clicked, and the door cracked open.
Savannah stood there, cheeks flushed, safety goggles still perched on her head, sparks from the grinder dying out behind her.
“So Noah gets to call you Savvy, but I don’t?” I pushed the door open, not really that gently, letting myself in. “Does he get to fuck you too, or is that just for those you tutor?”
She folded her arms, the movement tugging her sweater off one shoulder.
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve had a really trying day, so I’m going to ignore that and not tell you to go fuck yourself.
I’m going to ignore that you’re acting like an insecure, petty, jealous, immature boyfriend.
Noah can call me Savvy because he’s my friend. ”
“I’d hate to hear what you’d have said if you weren’t ignoring it.” My brow lifted when her glare narrowed so sharply that I was sure she was plotting my demise. “Why? Why him?”
“He isn’t a colossal dick.” She tilted her head, sharp and sure. “Is this why you’re here? To ask me why your roommate can call me Savvy? Are you serious?”
I shrugged.
“Why are you here?” She turned and walked away from me. “Just go away. I don’t have the energy.”
“Why?” I moved closer. “Noah said you were upset. What happened?”
“Like you don’t already know.” She picked up a sharp-looking object and then dropped it. “Did you laugh about it?”
“Laugh about . . . ?” What was happening? “Laugh about you being upset? No, why would I laugh about that?” I glanced down at my feet. “You have a very low opinion of me sometimes.”
“Do I? Well, considering what you just said to me, maybe you earned it.”
I smirked, though it wasn’t as steady as I wanted it to be. “That what you really think?”
“That’s what I know.” Her chin lifted, defiant, even as a fleck of glass dust glittered in her hair. She threw her hands in the air. “I can’t believe you, you know that, right?”
Wait, what the fuck did she think I’d done?
“You can’t believe me, because . . . ?”
Savannah tore the goggles off her head, dropping them on the end of the bench. “You—” she shook her head as she pulled off her gloves — “are truly, truly, a remarkable specimen.” She glared at me when my lips twitched. “That is not a compliment!”
The air between us hummed like live wire. She didn’t even realize how close she was standing, just a few steps from me, hands on her hips as she glared at me with fury.
I leaned forward, slow, deliberate, enjoying the way her eyes flashed with temper. “It kind of sounded like a compliment, Sav.”