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emma

. . .

Watching Hawke limp around in pain for a week tore apart my insides.

I hated seeing him injured, watching the wariness on his face while he figured out his next moves.

He powered through it, though, like the strong player everyone sees him as.

On-campus with other students around, he is nothing but confident.

In the privacy of our apartment, though, he lets his guard down, showing me how exhausted he is and how angry he is at the situation.

The week after that game he started stretching and working with the football team’s physical therapist to make sure he’s up and running by their next game.

He’s had a two-week rest since they had a bye week in between.

I’m proud of him but also scared that someone will try to make him a target with his perceived weak spot.

I still cannot believe that an investigation launched by the NCAA enforcement staff proved that Hawke’s own teammate purposefully stepped back so that his QB was unprotected and vulnerable.

According to the report Newbury stated that he wasn’t getting enough playing time with the new way Hawke had the team running, and when this player voiced his opinion he was told he could lose his position on the team if he didn’t learn the new routes.

The coaches were talked to as well, and statements from others on the team were also taken.

That player has since lost his position on the team and Riggs gave Hawke intel that the guy actually left campus all together after the backlash.

No one supported him or what he did to Hawke, just because he didn't want to put in the work and the effort to learn a new system.

Throughout all of this, Riggs and I have formed a friendship, mostly over bullying Hawke into taking it easy and not pushing himself so hard.

I meet Riggs on campus to get any class materials that Hawke may miss due to his physical therapy or the extra training he’s been packing on to make sure he’s ready for the next game.

Riggs believes that Hawke’s biggest block isn’t his knee but the mentality of not being afraid to be hit again, which is why in practice, the coaches are letting Hawke get charged and tackled.

My boyfriend even tried to call it a gentle hit .

Gentle my ass. I had to see for myself, so I convinced Sam to sneak into their training field and we sat there watching Hawke take hit after hit.

And while everyone seems to be careful of his leg and he goes down on a padded mat, the fact is he still goes down.

Sam has to hold my hand the entire time.

Around Hawke, I’ve been careful to show my fear for him.

Or the anger I feel at the guy who let him get hit, and the rage I feel at the player who actually tackled him.

It might not seem fair, since it's part of the game, but that swirl of obsessiveness inside me that Hawke created wants revenge. I want to see them all pay for hurting Him. Hawke has moved on. He’s working on getting stronger, and preparing for their next game.

I’m still here, trying to find the name of the guy who hit my boyfriend and hoping he takes a big hit in his next game too.

I want him hurt and bleeding. I’m praying that Newbury never finds peace on whichever campus he ends up on next.

I almost wish he would have stayed just to see how miserable he would be.

Only Hawke and my feelings for him bring out this protective and blood thirsty side of me.

I’m not sure how I feel about it either.

“We should probably get back,” Sam whispers next to me, and we both wince when Hawke takes another hit. “Geez. It's a good thing they aren’t running at him full speed.”

“When he said they were going to work the mental block, I didn’t know they meant literally.” Since my stomach’s twisting in knots over what we’ve been witnessing, I agree with her. “Let's go.”

We sink back into the shadows and start to leave when a couple of voices float up to us and I catch some of their words. I stop moving, my hand reaching for Sam.

“He’s going to lock up on the field.”

“He’s not going to lock up. This is Sheppard we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, Sheppard who’s never had an injury before. We’re fucked.”

“He’s going to be fine. It's not like the play was his fault. If you’re angry, blame Newbury. Hope that he gets flattened by a bus like I do.”

The other guy sighs and it sounds like they’re both drinking water. “I’m telling ya it's the girlfriend curse.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. Besides, he's been on a streak even with dating her.”

The other guy scoffs. “He just took a major hit. We’ll see how the rest of the season goes. This is why you don’t get a girlfriend before the draft.”

Their voices start to fade away as they head back to practice. Sam grips my arm.

“Don’t listen to them,” she whispers. “You trust Hawke and that man is so gone for you. Tell him, talk to him, but do not let those guys get in your head.”

I know she’s talking from experience. It's part of the reason her and he-who-should-not-be-named had some of their issues before she came here and left him behind. Still, it stings to know that his teammates are so worried about him and that being in a relationship is detrimental to his game. It hurts, but I know if I tell Hawke about it, he’s going to flip out.

Quietly, we sneak out of the practice field and hustle over to the arena where we have our own practice before our away game tomorrow night.

I’m in my own head while getting dressed, my mind preoccupied by the conversation and the hits Hawke was taking at practice.

Riley and Sam do their best to pull me into a conversation and to keep me in the present.

Isla even comes by and offers her silent support, giving my arm a squeeze.

“I’m working on something,” she murmurs, so low that only I hear her. With a nod of my head, she smirks and saunters over to her own locker to get ready. If Isla is working on something, I trust her.

On the ice, I go through all the drills and warm ups our coach wants us to do.

I push my legs until they burn, even though my heart is not in it today.

I don’t know what else I can do to prove that I’m not going to be Hawke’s downfall.

I believe in him and his dream. He’s never made me feel that I’m a problem while we’ve been together; it's quite the opposite. He tells me over and over that without me his game would go to shit. Without me he wouldn’t have the ambition to play because his dream is only complete if I’m there too.

Sam is right; I need to trust Hawke. He hasn’t given me reasons not to.

The way he dealt with Jax could have been different, but in the end, it brought us together again.

Hawke knew me well enough to know that I couldn’t have stayed with Jax.

I wouldn't have dated him even if Jax told me the truth right away. Hawke has bared his soul about our past and apologized over and over about leaving the way he had to. Maybe the aftermath of prom would have been different if I had kept my promise to go to Texas. We’ll never know, but Hawke doesn’t blame me.

He waited for me. He held us together from afar, even while I was trying to piece myself together without him.

Not that it helped because I’ve always been missing my most vital piece, my heart. It's been with Hawke the entire time.

“Hey Emma.” Sophia skates over to me. We’ve been fine since the altercation over a month ago, but I do keep my guard up with most of my teammates now. I keep it professional and just about hockey. “How is Sheppard doing?”

“His leg is good. I think he’s ready to take on their opponent next weekend.” I shrug and push the puck along the ice with my stick.

“That's good. It was a nasty hit. I can’t believe Newbury was such a shitty human being.” Carson glides next to us suddenly. My posture stiffens slightly, and I roll back my shoulders, not wanting to get in any arguments.

“Look Lawson, I wanted to apologize about what I said about you and Sheppard. I think I just had some misplaced notion about how one of our guy players was hurt. I didn’t have the whole story and I shouldn’t have judged you,” Carson says, and I watch her face for any detection of lies.

There is nothing but sincerity there and I let my guard down a little.

“Thanks, Cars.” I nudge my favorite goalie. “That means a lot.”

“Now that the kumbaya is out of the way,” Sophia intervenes and right then Isla skates up to us and hands her a piece of paper. “The game tomorrow.”

My teeth grit together. “Against Weston, what about it?”

“So the girlfriend of the football player who hurt Sheppard plays on the team.” Sophia glances at the paper that Isla gave her.

“Number fifty-four. MaKenna Oberstein.” Isla’s gaze meets mine, and I see the flash of cold determination in hers.

That protectiveness she always talks about rises to the surface and I watch her face while she wrangles whatever darkness is inside her back down.

Red flag, maybe. I see it as the biggest green flag around.

I recognize the need to protect your friends at all costs.

My eyes land on each of them and I nod my head in understanding and gratitude. “Thank you.”

We all skate off in different directions for our next drills.

I keep the information to myself while a plan forms in mind.

I never actually saw the piece of paper, but I know that it’s for my own protection as well.

My team is rallying behind me, supporting me.

And now I have the chance to prove that I’m all in for Hawke, and that no one messes with what’s mine.