Prologue
Eastfield, NJ
Fifteen years ago…
After a decisive win against North Brunswick Friday night, Foster Price’s head was still up in the clouds.
The team he’d led had a chance for the state championships for the first time in almost twenty years.
The whole town was abuzz. He couldn’t contain his smile as he drove across town to pick up his girlfriend first thing Monday morning.
A few neighbors waved to him as he passed by in his dad’s old BMW.
It was going to be a good day.
Or so he thought.
When he pulled up to his girlfriend’s house, storm clouds were brewing. She opened the door and threw her backpack at him before slipping into the passenger seat.
“I told you that I needed to be at school early this morning for a homecoming meeting, asshole,” Ashley said before buckling up.
When had she told him that? He didn’t remember at all. “Sorry, I must’ve forgot.” He tossed her bag into the backseat. “You should’ve reminded me last night when I called.”
“So this is my fault now?” Ashley asked, her brows furrowed.
He stared at her, not sure what to say. He had no recollection of her telling him in the first place, if she had at all. She absolutely should’ve reminded him—but saying she held fault in it would only start a fight.
“Go! Shit, Foster… hurry the fuck up!” Ashley yelled.
Foster glanced in his mirror before he peeled out and drove as fast as he could without tempting a ticket. He glanced at Ashley a time or two as she checked her makeup in the mirror behind her visor and ignored him. Uncomfortable silence filled the car the entire way.
Way to ruin my good mood, Ash.
After pulling into the parking lot of Eastfield High, he grabbed both of their backpacks and rounded to her door. Ashley grinned up at him like nothing had happened that morning. She climbed out and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Sorry I yelled.”
Foster clenched his jaw, frowning. “Yeah… it’s… fine. Sorry I forgot.”
Ashley pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Hey, Fozzie! Good job Friday night! Go Devils!”
Foster looked toward the voice and waved. He wasn’t even sure who’d said it.
“It’s going to be a good day,” Ashley said before threading an arm through his and urging him toward the front door.
The fight was soon forgotten. Nearly everyone congratulated Foster as he trailed through the main corridor.
He puffed out his chest a bit with pride.
His smile returned. Ashley preened beside him, as if she’d been on the field herself.
In a way she had. As captain of the cheer squad, she’d been on the sidelines, encouraging the whole team.
Being king of the castle felt good, his queen at his side.
He glanced at her, frowning.
His queen?
Shaking his head, he swallowed the doubts for the millionth time. No reason to rock the boat.
Nearing Ashley’s homeroom, he saw one person not happy to see him.
Jude Margolis stood at his locker, dressed in his usual all black, long bangs hung low over half his face.
The rest was shoved under a dark beanie.
He turned to glare at Foster before slamming his locker closed and walking ahead of them.
Foster’s gaze immediately drifted to Jude’s ass.
Tight skinny jeans sculpted it and made Foster’s dick thicken just a little.
Dragging his gaze away before he got himself in trouble, he smiled at Ashley. Looking at her ass had never done that to him. She was the hottest girl in school, maybe even the county. Every guy he knew wanted to be him.
Every guy but him.
He stopped beside Ashley’s homeroom door and gave her a quick peck.
She smiled up at him seductively while sliding a hand down his chest. “I’ve rescheduled the meeting for lunch, so I won’t see you until after practice.
” She pressed closer, looking up through her eyelashes. “Are you gonna miss me, babe?”
“You know it,” Foster murmured, handing over her bookbag.
She lifted her lips to his, and he leaned in for another brief kiss before wandering down the hall toward his own homeroom.
Two of his teammates, Rick and Aaron, sidled up on either side of him a few feet outside the door. Three sophomore girls stood near their doorway and giggled as they approached.
“Congrats, Foster!” they all cheered in unison before giggling again.
“You do realize it was the entire team who won?” Rick snapped at them. “Dumbasses.”
The three girls frowned, flinching back.
“Be nice,” Foster said under his breath to Rick.
Rick rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Foster shoved Rick inside their homeroom before he could be more of an ass and eyed the girls. “Ignore him. He’s grumpy when he’s not had breakfast.” Foster turned to glare at Rick as he entered. “Stop being a dick.”
“How am I the dick? All I heard this weekend was how amazing our quarterback did Friday night, like you were the only one on the goddamned field. Everyone’s giving you all the glory and forgetting about us.”
“Forgetting?” Aaron grumbled. “People have been congratulating me all morning.”
“I was the one who ran in that last touchdown, but no one’s said much of anything to me,” Rick said, ignoring Aaron.
“Because you’re a dickhead and they’re afraid of you,” a girl in the next row said to Rick.
“Fuck you, Mia,” Rick snapped at her.
And then he literally barked. A few times.
“Stop it,” Foster growled at Rick.
Rick chuckled, frowning. “She’s a dog. Barking is all she understands.” He glared at Mia. “Isn’t that right, girl?”
“And you wonder why no one’s congratulating you,” Foster muttered.
“Kiss my ass, Golden Boy,” Rick snapped.
Foster rolled his eyes and shook his head before offering Mia a look that he hoped told her how sorry he was for what Rick said before moving into his assigned seat behind her.
He glanced to his left. Rick. He hated Rick with a passion, but he did his best to keep the peace because they were teammates.
The team was everything, and they had to work together.
As coach said, they were family.
You didn’t always like family.
There were moments when he wanted to put his fist right in the middle of Rick’s face, but he kept it in control. Somehow.
The late bell rang, and everyone took their seats. Seconds after the bell, Jude flew into class and slid into the empty chair in front of Rick’s. He typically flew in at the last second, likely to avoid Rick as much as he could.
With good reason.
Mia leaned over to whisper something at Jude.
He turned to reply and when he did, he glanced at Foster over his shoulder, their gazes locking for a second.
He’d worn long bangs for so long Foster could barely remember what the guy looked like without that and all the eyeliner.
They’d known each other since they were little and had at one time been somewhat friends. Like back in second grade or some shit.
“Eyes forward,” Rick growled under his breath before he kicked the back of Jude’s chair.
Jude turned to glare at Rick but said nothing before facing forward.
The morning announcements began, the familiar drone going in one ear and out the other. Rick turned to Foster with a mischievous smile. Foster tensed, wondering what he was about to do. It was probably something for Jude.
It was almost always Jude.
Rick and Jude had had numerous altercations over the years and multiple that year alone. Jude was an easy target for Rick. He wasn’t like them. Dressed weird. Acted weird. He was full of teenage rage with a hairpin trigger. Rick loved to tickle his finger over that trigger as often as possible.
Rick extended his leg toward Jude’s chair.
‘Don’t’ Foster mouthed to Rick when he peeked over.
As always, Rick did whatever the fuck Rick wanted to do. He kicked the chair and sat back, crossing his big arms over his big chest.
And so it begins.
Jude tensed. He froze. He never looked over his shoulder or said a word, likely hoping Rick would give up.
But Rick wasn’t known for giving up easily.
Rick kicked the chair again…
And again…
And again.
Foster glared at Rick but was ignored.
Jude finally had enough. He spun and glared at Rick. “I’m not in the mood for your shit today!”
“Aww, poor baby. Are you having a bad day, fag?”
“You’re the one who spends most of his afternoons tackling big, sweaty boys,” Jude snapped, earning a few giggles and snorts around them. Jude’s one eye not covered by hair jumped to Foster. “Sounds pretty gay to me.”
Rick jumped from his chair and launched himself at Jude. Jude followed suit but was soon pinned to the wall.
“Stop!” a roar came from the front of the classroom.
Foster leapt to his feet and forced himself between the two, keeping them from killing one another.
Mr. Lattimer rushed closer and shoved Rick to the side.
“I am sick and tired of this constant nonsense with you young men,” Mr. Lattimer yelled, his face blotted with red. “Sit down right now or I’m giving all three of you a week’s worth of detention!”
“I was just trying to stop it,” Foster argued.
“I was just trying to stop it,” Jude muttered under his breath.
“That’s it,” Lattimer yelled before Foster could say anything back. “Both of you. Detention for a week.”
“Great,” Foster said before sliding into his seat and glaring at Jude. Then he glared at Rick, who wore an innocent smile.
“If you’d just let me move, this would stop,” Jude snapped at Latimer.
“Running from your problems doesn’t solve them,” Latimer barked. “You boys need to learn how to deal with difficult people and coexist. It’s a vital skill for the real world.”
“I’m not the one who needs to learn that lesson,” Jude said, eyeing Rick before they sat down.
As soon as the announcements were over, Lattimer started their lesson for the day. Foster tried to focus, but his gaze kept drifting.
To Jude.
What did he look like with his hair brushed back and that gunk off his eyes?