Chapter 37
GAbrIEL
My eyes flick over the stands, searching for Cecilia. She never confirmed whether she’d show up to today’s game or not, but a part of me is really hoping she does. Things have been good between us. Not great. But good.
They’re steps in the right direction, even if they happen to be baby steps. Her showing up today would—
“Hey, man.” Julio jogs up beside me and slaps a hand to my shoulder. “What’s Cecilia doing hanging out with Adriana?”
“What?” I turn to him with a scowl. He points to a different section of the stands, and I follow his line of sight.
Sure enough, I find her. My girl sits in the middle section of the stands on the end by the staircase.
Beside her sits Adriana Aguirre, a former friend and fucking backstabber.
“Shit. I wondered if that was the Adriana she was talking to.”
Julio’s dark brows pull together, and he rubs the back of his tattooed neck. “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I shrug. “If she wanted to fuck with any of us, you’d be at the top of her list,” I remind him.
“It’s been years since I’ve spoken to her.
Adriana doesn’t have any reason to mess with me.
” Not one that I know of, at least. And if she plans to use Cecilia as a means to get to us, I’ll put a stop to that shit real fast.
Julio nods, but doesn’t look convinced. Frankly, I’m not either.
No one in our crew walked away from Adriana on good terms. She fucked one of our friends over and the entire group was hurt by her betrayal.
Allie took it the worst, but Julio was right up there with her.
He and Adriana had a different relationship from the rest of us.
Friendly, but also something more. He’s always been tight-lipped about whether anything ever happened between the two of them.
I know about the time he got drunk and made out with her at a party last year, but according to J, it was a mistake, and not one he planned on ever repeating.
We gave him shit for it, anyway. Allie did too. But none of us really held it against him. He wasn’t pursuing a relationship with Adriana or anything. He was hammered and made a mistake. We’ve all been there.
Mine was with a cleat chaser freshman year and it took me a full semester to shake her. I stopped going out and drinking at random parties after that.
I don’t know what went down between Julio and Adriana after that night. It wasn’t any of my business, and it’s not like Julio is the type to bring it up.
Felix called him out on it when it happened, and that was that.
Seeing Adriana talking to Cecilia now, it doesn’t feel right. Her expression is blank, but she’s got her body turned toward my girl, a sign she’s engaged in the conversation. Her spine is rigid and her eyes are trained on the field in our direction.
I’d put money on her gaze being locked on J.
Cecilia, meanwhile, looks to be having an okay time. There’s a small smile on her face as she animatedly talks to Adriana. The longer I stare, the more I wish I could hear their conversation. Adriana must know we’re looking because she raises her hand toward her head and gives me a quick salute.
Cecilia stops talking long enough to follow Adriana’s line of vision. Her gaze washes over me, and she lifts her hand, giving me a hesitant wave. I return the gesture right as one of the refs blows a whistle, signaling that it’s time to start the game.
It’s half-time, and we’re getting our asses handed to us.
The score is three to one, with Crown Point University in the lead.
If we don’t get our heads out of our asses during the second half, we’re going to lose, which will hurt our chances of being selected by the NCAA selection committee for the Championship at the end of the season.
There’s always a chance we’ll get another shot against Crown Point during tournaments, but it’s not how we want our season to go.
It’s always better to face a team in the tournaments that you’ve already won against.
It’s a hard win when you walk onto the pitch, knowing they’ve already handed you a L.
In the locker room, Coach gives us his version of a pep talk. He reminds us that we’ve beaten the Hawks before, though he glosses over the number of years it’s been since we managed it.
We played against CPU during the pre season but we didn’t win. They didn’t either. The score ended up one to one and after getting extra time, neither of us was able to score. It was a draw. This time around, the game is leaning in their favor.
“We’re changing the line-up for the second half,” Coach says. Julio stands beside him, his expression grim. I get the feeling that whatever changes Coach decided to make, Julio isn’t a fan of them. Either that or he assumes the rest of the team won’t be and he’s bracing for the fallout.
“Holt, you’re subbing the second half. Hunt, you’re in. You’ll play midfield and we’ll see how it goes. Herrera?”
I rise to my feet.
“You play striker. You and Hunt had good chemistry during practice. I want to see that again on the field.”
My eyes widen, and I look at Julio. He dips his head and gives me a sly grin.
“Yes, sir.” This is what he stayed late to talk to Coach about. Fucking yes!
“Are you kidding me, Coach?” Holt demands, shoving to his feet. “This is bullshit.”
“Don’t take that tone with me. It’s not bullshit, it’s soccer.
If you’d stop focusing on whatever problems you seem to have with Herrera and half of my goddamn team, and instead focus on the game, we might have a few more points on the board.
As it is, you’re making rookie mistakes to avoid working with members of your own team. I’ve had enough.”
“You can’t do this—”
“I’m in charge. I can do whatever the hell I want. Hunt, get your ass on the field.”
“Yes, sir,” Deacon says, and the rest of us follow him out.
The second half goes better than the first. Deacon and I find a rhythm Holt and I never could, and we race down the field, passing the ball back and forth to one another as we near the goal.
The crowd’s anticipation hangs heavy in the air, a pulsating energy that feeds our determination. We need a score.
As we get closer to CPU’s penalty area, I feel their defenders closing in.
The tension is palpable, but it’s as if Deacon and I share an unspoken connection.
We’ve spent countless hours on the field this past week and more in our backyard practicing together, going over plays.
Living in the same house has always made Felix, Julio, and I more in sync with one another, and it looks like the same can be said with Deacon.
With a deft flick of his cleats, Deacon sends the ball back to me just as a CPU defender lunges in.
I control it with a graceful touch and, without a second thought, pass it right back to Deacon.
His eyes lock onto mine, and I see the glint of determination mirrored in them.
We’ve got this. Right here, this is our moment to shine.
We’re in perfect sync, two hearts beating as one on the pitch. The ball is stolen, but Hunt quickly recovers it and passes it back to me.
There’s no hesitation. I strike the ball with a powerhouse outside kick and it soars toward the goal. Not anticipating the move, CPU’s goalkeeper comes up short on his dive.
Time seems to slow as the ball finds the back of the net, and the crowd erupts with a deafening roar. The stands tremble with the collective joy of our fans, and my teammates rush me, Deacon damn near taking me off my feet in his excitement.
“Fuck, yes!”
A wide smile splits my face, and I fist-pump the air.
“Again!” I shout, and we all get back into position.
We score once more, bringing the score up from three to one to three to three. There are only six minutes left in the game, and it’s our turn at the kickoff. None of us wants a draw against CPU again.
The pressure is on, but we’re all determined to win this.
With every one of my heartbeats, I can feel the adrenaline surging through my veins. We have one last chance to claim victory. To take home the win. My gaze flicks toward the stands, spotting Cecilia. She’s leaning forward, hands clasped together on her knees.
Does she feel it too? The energy that crackles in the air. Fuck. It’s invigorating.
As the referee blows the whistle to restart the game, Deacon and I exchange a determined look and I signal him with my hand.
One-two. Just like we practiced.
The ball is in play, and we move forward as a team, pushing it relentlessly toward CPU’s goal. The clock is ticking, and our fans are on the edge of their seats. Voices screaming through the air.
We navigate through the opposition’s defense with precision passes, taking turns to run further down the field. Each sprint stretches longer and longer. We’re almost there.
With just seconds left on the clock, I find myself with the ball at my feet, right on the edge of the penalty area. The defenders close in, but I see a gap, a small window of opportunity to take the shot.
I take a deep breath. This is it. The crowd falls into a hushed silence. It’s like they can feel it too. Letting instinct take over, I unleash a perfectly placed shot towards the far corner of the goal.
The ball sails through the air, and it’s a race against time. The CPU goalkeeper stretches to his limits, diving for the edge but he’s a fraction of a second too late.
The ball kisses the back of the net, and the stadium erupts with a thunderous roar.
We did it! We scored with only seconds to spare. Fuck. “We won!” Julio grabs onto my shoulders. “We fucking won!”
“Fuck yeah, we did!”
My teammates rush to congratulate me, and I don’t bother fighting the smile on my face. My eyes go back to Cecilia and pride washes over me when I find her on her feet, cheering on our win. I want to go to her. To lift her in my arms and taste her on my lips.
It’s the adrenaline talking, but fuck that would be the cherry on top of today’s victory.
Instead, I grab my things from our bench and sprint with the guys back toward the locker room, only to come up short when Felix elbows me in the side. “Do you see what I see?” he asks.
I follow his line of sight to find Holt looming over a girl on the far wall, almost but not entirely hidden from view.
“He stormed off as soon as he realized Coach wasn’t going to put him back in,” he tells me. “And went and found someone to occupy his time with.” He raises his phone and snaps a pic.
“Is that—”
He nods. “Giana Paxton.”
I eye the girl up and down. “That’s Gigi?
” No fucking way. She’s the coach’s daughter.
A fucking high schooler at that and only just turned seventeen.
Only she doesn’t look like any seventeen-year-old I know.
The freckle-faced girl who often acts as her father’s shadow during summer break training is taking a hard stab at looking like a seductress.
“I need this image burned from my eyes,” I mutter.
She’s wearing a navy blue mini skirt that barely covers her ass and a white, skin-tight, v-neck tee that showcases her bright red bra underneath. If that wasn’t bad enough, her tits are all but pouring out of her top as she leans in close to Holt.
He mirrors her movements with an arrogant grin. Fucking hell.
Giana’s eyelids are smudged in black, and her lips are painted a deep shade of red. The makeup and outfit give her the appearance of someone older. Much, much older. Coach is going to kill her. But only after he fucking murders Holt.
Felix’s expression is grim. “Remember when I mentioned he’d been poking around?”
Yeah, it was a while back when Cecilia and I were still … we were still whatever we were. “It’s escalated?”
“Yeah. Holt isn’t just chasing after her anymore,” he says. “Austin has her. He’s fucking her in secret or some shit. I overheard him talking to some of the guys about it the other day, and Rion confirmed that she’s stayed overnight multiple times at the Zeta Pi house, always in Holt’s room.”
Fucking hell. “What is she thinking?”
He grinds his teeth together. “She isn’t. She’s young and dumb and has stars in her eyes.” I register the pure venom in his voice.
“Are we still sticking with the plan?”
He nods. “I’ve warned her off twice already. Until we have enough proof to bury Holt’s ass, it’s the best I can do.”
I grimace. “I can try talking to her—” Giana’s just a kid.
She has no clue what kind of guy she’s getting involved with.
The kind of shit he’s capable of. Holt messing around with her works in my favor.
I need a reason for Coach to kick him off the team and this is as good as any.
But even knowing that this gets me one step closer to my goal doesn’t mean I’m alright with just throwing her to the wolves.
I’ll talk to her if Felix thinks it’ll help.
I know neither of us is okay with Giana turning into collateral damage.
He shakes his head. “It won’t make a difference.
Besides, they’re not being particularly careful.
I’ve got Rion Pru as my man on the inside.
I’ll have what we need and we can get rid of the asshole soon.
” It’s a start. Taking soccer away from him is only the beginning.
I won’t be satisfied until Holt gets what he deserves.
“How’d you get Pru to turn?”
He chuckles. “Don’t act so surprised. After what I told him before in the locker rooms, it wasn’t all that hard.
Dude’s a follower, but he isn’t all bad.
He’s got a heart, enough of one at least that he can’t just stand by and do nothing while Holt takes advantage of a teenager.
Not when he knows Holt’s a repeat offender. ”
We join the rest of our team in the locker room, and I do my best to shake off my irritation. We just won against CPU. We should all be riding high. Instead, all I feel is a looming sensation of dread.