Page 43

CHAPTER 43

MAKING THE BED BY OLIVIA RODRIGO

January

Parker Thompson:

I sit in Coach Corbin’s office, my arms crossed over my chest, my bruised face the only thing to show for what happened last weekend. Bellamy is sitting next to me in his chair, silent just like me, arms crossed over his chest just the same. He won't look at me or in my direction. He hasn’t in the past week and as much as I wish I didn’t care, I do. Having the Archer duo out of my life has created a hole that I didn’t even know would exist if I didn’t have either of them. As annoying as Bellamy could be, he was also a bigger part of me than I had realized. I don’t regret what I said, but I do regret the way I said it. I hate how childish it all felt even if it was true. I’m better than that, and Bellamy is better than hitting me.

Coach Corbin has been standing in front of us, eyeing my face and Bellamy’s hand for the past five minutes. He hasn’t said a word. He has expressed on his face that he’s not happy but that’s the only sign I have of what’s going on here or what is going to happen in this office today. I’m scared that I’m going to be benched for the championship game next week. This is all chalked up to being my fault in the end, but I also have more riding on this. Bellamy already won the Heisman. We know he's a first-round NFL draft pick in March. I don’t have the same security in my career… I’m nervous as hell sitting in this uncomfortable chair right now and I’m not going to let it show.

“Is there a reason we’re sitting silently?” Bellamy breaks the tension and Coach Corbin almost snorts with laughter.

“Besides the fact that I’m trying to figure out what to say to you two idiots?” Coach snaps and I stay quiet.

“I didn’t do anything,” Bellamy argues.

He’s the coach's favorite. His pet. As he should be considering Bellamy alone has driven us to four back-to-back championships in the last four years. He deserved that spot. But having that means he’s a bit of a smart mouth to coach which is far more than any of us would ever get away with.

“You didn’t do anything? Are you really going to sit here and tell me that when you have a bandage on your throwing hand a week before our championship game? Your final championship game in your college career might I add.” Coach doesn’t glance my way at all as he speaks.

“Then why is he here if I’m the one in trouble?” Bellamy speaks in a lower tone now, like he doesn’t even want to acknowledge me. He hasn’t even glanced in my direction.

“Because you hit me,” I mumble, my eyes glancing at him.

“You deserved it," he snaps and I clench my jaw to keep from speaking.

“Shut up. Both of you.” He walks around his desk and leans against it. “Now, I told you that you needed to figure your shit out and you promised me you wouldn’t cause any problems,” Coach Corbin starts.

I don’t look at Bellamy because I already know he’s going to be mad that Coach knew and he didn’t. Just like he had no idea any of his friends knew either. He’s been the only one out of everyone in his life who was in the dark about Brianne and me, and that’s another thing that’s been weighing on me. I know it’s half of the reason Brianne feels like she does. Because she cares more about her brother’s happiness than her own and it’s infuriating.

“You knew?” Bellamy’s voice is once again full of betrayal, just like it was when I was at their apartment after he found out.

“You don’t get up and arms with me, Archer. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could have guessed that Parker and your sister were dating. You just didn’t want to see it,” Coach snaps and Bellamy looks taken aback.

“Of course, I didn’t want to see it. He was my best friend and he lied to me. She lied to me, and even worse he bragged about it to my face when it was all a secret. I thought he was talking about being with someone else this whole time but no he was talking about my sister to my own face? That’s fucked. You’re fucked up. That’s my baby sister and you…” Bellamy argues and I shake my head, stopping him from spouting any more nonsense.

“I didn’t. I tried with everything in me to never talk about my relationship with your sister in front of you but you forced that, just like you forced everything else. I didn’t brag about anything. I told you the bare minimum because the thought of talking about her without her knowledge or yours grossed me out. Don’t blow this out of proportion more than you already have,” I snap and Bellamy opens his mouth but Coach holds his finger up, silencing both of us.

“I don’t care. I really don’t. Bellamy you can scream until you’re blue in the face about her being your baby sister, but she’s not a baby anymore and as much as you love her, you are not her dad. You’re her brother and you’re all she’s got. So you’re right, you should protect her,” Coach starts.

“Exactly,” Bellamy agrees.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Coach interrupts Bellamy. “You should protect her from bad people. Assholes, and pervs at a bar. Parker is not a bad guy and we all know that, you included,” Coach defends me and despite the coldness in my chest, I do feel a spark of warmth at his defense.

“I don’t know him and how he is. Not like I thought,” Bellamy admits.

“You do. And you can pretend you don’t, that’s fine. I need a promise right now. From both of you,” Coach Corbin interjects once again.

“I need both of you to promise that the fighting stops here. You don’t speak unless it’s about the game. You don’t argue unless it’s for the betterment of the team. And you damn well don’t let whatever idiotic feud is happening ruin our chances at the championship. Archer, I know you’re mad at him, but Parker and almost every player out there has a lot riding on this win. Their future, their career. Yours is set right now. And you have earned that. I don’t care who she is. Family or not. You will not let a girl get in between your team and that trophy,” Coach starts talking to both of us, but ends with his eyes on Bellamy.

“I would never throw the championship,” Bellamy promises with his words.

“And you. I don’t care what personal things you’re feeling either. You don’t try to hash this out or smooth it over until after the championship. Not with him, not with his sister.” Coach Corbin looks at me now.

“Not with my sister ever,” Bellamy adds and I nod to Coach, ignoring Bellamy.

“I promise,” I tell him.

“I promise too,” Bellamy chimes.

“Good, get out of my office and get on the field for drills. Both of you are doing suicides today because you’re idiots. Go.” Coach motions for us to leave. I let Bellamy go first and then I stand.

“I’m going to get her back, Coach,” I tell him and he nods.

“I’m sure you are. Just don’t let Archer hit you in the face again when you do.”

He finally smirks and I want to smile but I can’t. I haven’t since the matter and I don’t think I want to. I’m going to focus. I’m going to practice. And I’m going to be the reason we take the championship trophy home next weekend. I want that on my shoulders, not everything else.

* * *

Brianne Archer:

I should be happier on my first college championship game. That should be something I’m jumping for joy over. But I’m standing on the sidelines next to Dakota who I still haven’t spoken to. Not in two weeks. I’m stiff from the lack of practice and stretching I’ve been doing and I know Leah has noticed. And I’m undeniably tired. Not from flying to Michigan or the jet lag. Not from my lack of sleep because I feel like that’s all I’ve done. I’m tired in my head from all the hoops I’ve been jumping through to convince everyone I’m fine.

I am fine. This is fine.

Seeing Parker and Bellamy play next to each other like nothing even happened is completely fine.

Seeing the fact that I feel like I have no relationship with my brother now. No boyfriend because what I felt was all chalked up to an ultimatum. It was all forced to end because of my brother. And now both of them are okay with all of this.

So I’m fine.

And right now, the clock is ticking down at an alarming speed. Bellamy has one second to make a decision. I should be excited. Adrenaline should be rushing through me as I watch my brother make the final pass to Parker on the field. I should be happy that Parker is using the precision and skill he learned partially from me to maneuver through the field. I should be jumping up and down and screaming my head off the second Parker makes the final winning touchdown of the football season. But all I do is watch, my ears ringing, all of it feeling like it’s happening in slow motion.

The team practically tackles him to the ground and I stand there, watching everyone go absolutely wild with excitement.

And I feel none of that.

But I do hear my name. And I realize how I must look so I smile. And I cheer. And I pretend because I’m very good at that game. Especially the last two weeks. I see the team. I see the excitement. I see them lift Parker like he’s on top of the world and I see them lift my brother too. The MVP’s of the game, both securing this for our school and team. I look at them, and I swear I watch Parker’s eyes scour until they land on me. He only looks for a second, but he does look. Part of me wants to believe he was looking for me. That he’s wanting to come to me. But the other part doesn’t want that to be true because the last thing I want is to talk to him right now.

Then my brother looks at me. He smiles and cheers and I try to emanate the same reaction for him. Because he’s looking at me. And he’s happy when he’s doing so and that’s all I’ve wanted in the past two weeks was for my brother to be happy when he looked at me. So I make it my mission to not even glance in Parker’s direction the rest of the night despite the fact that it feels like second nature to do so.