Page 14

YOU’RE SUSPENDED

XANDER

A year and one month ago

July

Fuck. This damn dog…

I roll out of bed and stumble to the door. Milo’s in the hallway, pawing at the floor outside the guest room. He’ll wake her up if he keeps it up.

Just as I step over the threshold, the door a few feet down opens.

“Hey, boy,” Bella says, her voice sleepy. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you earlier.”

Milo lifts his head, wagging his tail and yipping happily.

She takes a step back, and he trots into the guest room. When she closes the door, I’m hit with a ridiculous urge to paw at the door the way he did until she lets me in too. I shut my eyes and drag my hand down my jaw.

Get it together, man .

I hate this distance. Even though it’s your fault. I hate these closed doors. But she’s right to keep you away. I hate the rift between us. You’re the only one to blame for that. I hate seeing her so hurt. Yet you’re the one who caused it.

I fucked up big time, and I don’t know how to change her mind about me.

Feet dragging, I force myself back to bed. For a long time, I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, berating myself.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I wanted to see Stacey, to talk to her, to get to know this new version of her. I admire her resiliency, the way she found herself again after such a tragedy.

But I have only friendly feelings for her. I don’t need anyone except the girl who’s sleeping in my guest room at the moment—because of the fucking mess I created.

Everything I said to Bella last night was true. I have no idea why I hid my friendship with Stacey from her.

I roll onto my stomach, hug my pillow, and close my eyes. Why the hell did I do it? I had ample opportunity to tell her the truth over the last two weeks, yet I didn’t.

She’s observant, so of course she noticed I was on my phone more than usual. I caught her watching me a few times, but she never asked. I would’ve told her if she had. I think. But she didn’t.

Though, in the back of my mind, I knew she wouldn’t. She never asks about topics she thinks are none of her business, even when they are. She doesn’t pry. She’s quiet and respectful.

She gave me space, and I took advantage of it.

But I fucking love her. What I feel for her is powerful and overwhelming.

It’s nothing like what I felt for Stacey, even back then.

Sure, there was some kind of love there, but it was shallow, immature.

Now, I enjoy her company. I like her as a friend.

But what I feel for Bella is a thousand times stronger.

She is my girl, and I put a fucking crater between us by acting the way I used to, by doing whatever I wanted without taking the feelings of others into account.

I’m not even your type.

My heart pangs as that statement replays in my mind, as the pain in her voice washes over me again.

Why the fuck does it matter? Hair color is just that: hair color.

A simple physical quality. I love Bella’s personality and her beautiful soul, how much we have in common.

She’s my perfect match. All this bullshit about her not being my type makes me restless.

Why the hell would I care that she isn’t blonde?

Audrey showed her the girls I had crushes on through the years? I was a pubescent teen, fueled by hormones. My sister had no fucking right to meddle, and I’m done letting her get in the way of my relationship. Fuck her and her manipulation. All these “not his type” talks mean shit.

We don’t fall in love with beauty, we fall in love with imperfections. I love Bella happy, sad, angry, confused, cute, furious. I love everything about her.

I snag my phone from the nightstand and check the time. Four a.m. Fuck . I need to be at practice at ten.

Forcing my eyes closed, I will sleep to take over. I need it, or I’ll be a fucking mess. The last thing I need is to get shit from Coach, since I need to bolt out of practice the second it ends to make it to Bella’s mom’s on time.

I rush into the locker room fifteen minutes late, feeling like shit. I have no doubt I look like it too. My head hurts, and my eyes are tired.

Heart pounding, I toss my clothes into the locker before I change into my gear.

“Walker?” Andy, Coach’s assistant, stops at the threshold, his brows pulled together. “You’re late.”

“You’re observant,” I quip. The second the words are out, I frown. I’m not in a good mood, but that doesn’t give me any right to be rude, especially when all he did was tell the truth. “Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t sweat it,” he says. “But Coach won’t be happy.”

“Kinda figured that.” I nod as I stroll past him.

Coach won’t be the first person who isn’t happy with me today. When I got up this morning, Bella and Milo were gone, and by the time I left, they still hadn’t returned. Her car was in the driveway, so I can only assume she took Milo for a long walk in hopes of avoiding me.

And she succeeded.

“Does this have anything to do with the gossip?” Andy follows me, his shoes clicking on the tile. “Your girlfriend pissed about it or what?”

“What?” I stop in my tracks, heart stumbling, and turn to face him.

He raises his hands and winces.

Does everyone know about these pictures? The fucking pictures I haven’t even seen myself?

“Sorry, it’s not my business. We just keep track of the gossip so we can get ahead of any potential fallout.”

“I don’t remember anyone giving a shit about Miller’s stint in rehab,” I bite out, anger rising in my chest.

He shrugs. “It’s all about algorithms and shit. Some news spreads faster than others.”

“It’s not news. It’s garbage.”

“If you say so.”

I spin around and get up in his face. “What the fuck does that mean?”

He lifts his chin. “Nothing.”

“That bullshit won’t work with me,” I grit. “What do you mean?”

“Miller talked to me after the two of you fought.” Andy stands a little taller. “He said you went after his girl for revenge and that you’d be bored with her soon enough, that you’d leave her for another girl. Or a string of them.” He shrugs again. “These new photos kinda confirm he was right.”

“Miller raped a girl in college, and he tried to do the same to Bella,” I hiss, bringing my face to his so we’re nose to nose. “If that’s the kind of person you trust, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn around and head to the field. Why waste my time on a guy who can’t see Miller is full of crap? I swear, the world is full of people whose stupidity leads to nothing but pain and suffering.

As if I’m any better. I’m the fucking definition of stupid.

“Walker! What the fuck took you so long?” Coach hollers. “Get your ass on the field.”

“Good morning to you too,” I shout back.

He scowls, but not before a smirk creeps across his face.

Can’t fool me, man . The guy has a soft spot for me.

By the time practice winds down, my muscles are sore, and I’m relishing the perfect kind of pain. I feel alive.

“Walker!”

At the sound of my name, I turn, and before I can block it, a ball pegs me in the face, and pain erupts.

What the fuck? I bring a hand to my nose, and when I pull it away, it’s covered in blood.

“Damn, I should be more careful.”

Miller isn’t smiling, but satisfaction dances in his eyes.

“What’s your problem?” I march up to him, arms out.

“My problem ?” Miller laughs, his head lolling back. “It was an accident.”

“The fuck it was.” I push him with both hands.

His smile grows wider. “Believe whatever you want.” He shrugs, standing his ground.

“Xander.” Drew stops by my side, a hand on my arm. “It’s not worth it.”

“Aw, you found yourself a new friend,” Miller coos, glancing between Drew and me. “Are you going to fuck his girl behind his back too?”

“I’m going to kill you.” I lunge for him, but Drew throws his arms around me and pulls me back. “Carter, let me go!”

“No! He’s doing it to get a rise out of you. Leave it,” he says.

“You’re making a mistake, Carter,” Miller says, his lips kicked up on one side.

“He’s a vindictive child. Watch your back.

He stole my woman, and he’s hanging out with another girl already.

That’s why you wanted Isabella, isn’t it?

” he goads. “To make her suffer for the way you think I wronged you?”

The audacity. “You’re full of shit!” I grind out, pushing forward.

Drew doesn’t let me go.

“Okay,” Miller says calmly, taking a step closer. “But so are you .”

With a grunt, Drew tugs me back again. My blood on fire. I want to punch Miller so fucking bad, but I can’t do anything.

I thrash against Drew’s hold, trying to make him let me go. When I finally give in, knowing I won’t break free, that I can’t lay a hand on Miller, I do the next best thing.

I spit at him. My aim is true, and the glob lands on his cheek.

His features contort in rage, bringing me a modicum of gratification.

“Walker! Come here,” Coach yells.

Drew finally releases me, and I shoot him a glare as I saunter away.

Coach lifts his chin. “Miller, you too.”

“What?” I bite out, stopping in front of him.

Coach remains silent until the fucker I want to pummel into the ground joins us.

“You two annoy the fuck out of me,” he seethes. “Acting like schoolkids who can’t stay in their own lane.”

“I’ve kept my distance. He’s the one who can’t back off,” Miller states.

Coach scoffs. “You think I didn’t see you throw that ball in his face?”

I lower my gaze to hide my smile, though apparently I do a shit job of it.

“Why are you smiling, Walker? You tried to start a fight. After I asked you not to do that ever again.”

“He couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, and that’s my fault?”

“That’s why I fucking told you to stay away from each other! Neither of you can keep your shit together.” He narrows his eyes at me, his expression harder than I’ve ever seen it. “You’ve had your warning. This time, you gotta deal with the fallout. You’re suspended for two weeks.”