After the Game by Abbi Glines

Author:Abbi Glines [Glines, Abbi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2017-08-22T07:00:00+00:00

This Was the Only Weapon I Had

CHAPTER 30

BRADY

Nash Lee was sitting in the desk next to mine when I walked into class. He wasn’t grinning like normal. Which meant I was about to get drilled about not being at workout this morning. West was the only one who didn’t mention it, and I had Maggie to thank for that. Everyone else was worried I was sick. That damn game was all they could think about.

“You good?” Nash asked as I sat down beside him. Same exact question I’d heard from Gunner, Asa, and Ryker. No, I was not fucking good. I’d never be fucking good again.

“Yeah,” I lied, not saying anything else. I never missed a practice or a workout. They all had at some point. So why couldn’t I miss one without the damn inquisition?

“Coach was worried.”

Coach had been waiting on me the moment I walked in the door this morning. I was aware he was worried. He, too, thought I was sick. He was ready to send me home to rest. A place where I didn’t want to be. A place full of lies and deceit.

My father hadn’t been there when I’d come out of the bathroom this morning. I’d almost expected him to be, but he had left for work. My mom had looked beyond worried, but I couldn’t explain any of this to her. I wasn’t sure how I ever would.

“You just never miss.” Nash stated the obvious.

“I did today” was the only response he was getting. Jesus, couldn’t they all back off? I didn’t drill them when they missed. I respected their privacy.

Where was my respect, dammit?!

“Rifle said he saw your truck at Riley Young’s. He was whispering it to Hunter, and I shut it down. That shit ain’t true, but they’re spreading crap and I wanted you to know. I can handle it if you want.”

Rifle Hannon was a sophomore and didn’t even know the real details about two years ago. He’d been in middle school, for crying out loud. He might be a good tight end, but he needed to keep his mouth fucking shut about me if he wanted playing time.

“I was there. But it’s no one’s fucking business,” I said, looking straight ahead. Nash was my friend, but I was past caring what everyone thought of me. Of my choices. They sure acted as they pleased. Got drunk at the field party, fucked around with girls at school, took nothing seriously but football. I was tired of being the good one. I wasn’t trying to make my dad proud anymore. I did not give one fuck.

“Gunner won’t take that well,” Nash said, as if I needed reminding.

I turned to him then and made sure he saw the look on my face. The one telling him just how many fucks I did not give. “I don’t need Gunner’s permission for shit.”

Nash’s eyes went wide and he nodded. I was surprising them all. And I didn’t care. My team’s feelings were no longer important to me.

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