Page 44

Author's Note: Thanks for all the encouraging comments!

Also, this is the SECOND chapter posted today so make sure you read CH.

41 first! I really think I just needed to get over the last chapter, because the second I did, I was able to plot everything out until the end of this story.

I felt so motivated I just started writing right away.

I groaned as I dragged my suitcase up the walkway to the football house.

Loud shouts were flying out of the front door that sat partially ajar and I knew the guys were having people over.

I was slightly relieved when I stepped inside and saw that it was just the team.

The guys must have invited some of the second-stringers and rookies over.

I was so exhausted from Whistler I don't think I could have handled a full party today.

"Arch my man!" Tyler called from the couch. The beer cans littered across the coffee table gave me a clear indicator of the state they were all in. "We're planning the grad party, come help!"

I went to the kitchen to grab a beer, acknowledging my teammates as I went.

I could tell more than a few of the rookies were half-cut and I figured there was some last-minute hazing going on.

The season was over, so once they were initiated at the grad party they'd all be free of the rookie hell.

Then they get to join in next year when the fresh meat comes along.

It's a sick cycle but hey, the world keeps spinning.

"Hey, Archer!" Emmett called from a couch in the corner, he pushed one of his friends in the face to get him to scooch over and make space.

"How was Whistler?" He asked as I dropped into the seat next to him and cracked a beer.

It was a little tight so I glared at the rookie on my other side until he got up and moved.

"It was... eventful," I responded unsurely.

"Nice! Did you hit the Black Diamonds? Ohhh did you eat at Araxi? I watched a video about their oysters and Jesus did they look good. I told Charlotte to tell you, did she?"

Damn this kid can talk. I couldn't even keep track of what he had asked.

"She mentioned them, yeah but we couldn't get a reservation.

" I slammed back my beer and relaxed as the cool foam slid down my throat.

Emmett continued to chatter on and I nodded occasionally, throwing him a 'hmmm' once in a while.

I couldn't put my finger on what it was about him, but he didn't bug me as most people did.

I mean, the kid could go from talking about a cool butterfly he saw to beating up two guys for disrespecting his teammates. There was something so bizarre about him that I had to respect it.

"Holy fuck. How has Johnson not murdered you yet?" Brock a second-string linebacker laughed across the room.

"Oh, you hadn't heard?" Tyler laughed, "Archer's gone soft, boys."

"Fuck off I have not," I grumbled into my beer.

"Love will do that to you," Emmett mused next to me. I shot him a glare for adding fuel to the fire and rolled my eyes when he smiled sheepishly.

"No fucking way!" Brock laughed. "Say it ain't so... Johnson are you really in love?"

I took a moment to finish my beer. I don't know why my ears felt hot at the question.

I wasn't used to be at the receiving end of the team's razzing.

I guess I was going soft if these fuckfaces thought they could mess with me.

When I'd gulped the last drop of beer I lowered the can and nodded my head slowly, grimacing when the guys all made over dramatic cooing sounds.

A rookie who I barely recognized leaned forward on the couch across from me, laughing obnoxiously. He was clearly wasted with his bloodshot eyes and slightly sweaty face.

"What's so funny Rookie?" I challenged. The edge in my voice quieted my teammates who had known me longer. The rookie didn't seem that smart though.

He kept laughing as he cracked another beer. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," he slurred dramatically. "I just can't believe that any pussy—no matter how good—is worth tying yourself down in college."

It was silent for a moment as I calmly put my beer on the table and stood up, cracking my neck.

The idiotic rookie kept chuckling to himself as I walked towards him.

He stopped short when I stood in front of him, his glassy eyes caught sight of my legs then trailed all the way up—from my clenched fists to my pissed off face.

"What the fuck did you just say about my girl?" I asked quietly.

The rookie whipped around looking to his teammates for help, but no one spoke. "H-hey Archer, man, I didn't mean a-anything by it," he stuttered.

"Talk like that about her again, and I'll beat the shit of your bitch ass. Got it?" I said in a deathly serious tone. I wasn't going to pound on a guy when he was two sips from being blacked out. But I wasn't going to let him off the hook either.

The rookie nodded like the scared little bitch that he was as one of his friends came forward and pulled him off the couch. The two of them kept their eyes locked on me as they backed up to the door and ran outside.

"You have gone soft," Brock laughed into the shocked silence of the guys. I dropped onto the couch and grabbed an unopened beer. "The Archer I remember would have kicked that kid's teeth in."

"Oh fuck off I would not have," I growled as I cracked the beer. "The little shit just needed a lesson in respect."

"To be fair to him," Tyler interjected. "It's not like you talk about your feelings a lot big boy. How was he supposed to know that Charlotte has you whipped beyond belief."

I popped the tab off my beer and spiked it across the room, catching Tyler right in the forehead. I smiled sadistically at him as he groaned and gave me the middle finger. "I'm not fucking whipped. I'm just in love, you idiots should try it if you ever find a girl to let you touch her."

"Tyler's right though man," another teammate added. "We only know how special that little lady is because we see her all the time with you wrapped around her finger."

"I think it's nice," Emmett sighed dreamily.

"I think it's gross," Brock smirked. He's lucky he was a senior or his comments would be getting him booted from the house. There was a hierarchy on our team, and even as a second-stringer he got more leeway.

"If it was anyone but Charlotte, I'd think it's gross too." Tyler grimaced at the thought of love. "But a girl like her is worth giving up the endless amounts of ass you can get as a football player."

"Real fuckin' poetic dipshit." I glared over my beer can.

I'd hit my quota for morons today so I finished my beer and went up to my room.

The guys' comments mulled around in my head as I unpacked.

Was it possible that people could think Charlotte was just another girl?

I fucking hated that. She wasn't any girl, she was my girl.

If I got my way it would stay like that for.

.. well forever. I couldn't imagine a day where I would want to be without her.

It shouldn't have bothered me what other people thought, but it did. I knew my reputation with girls was pretty shitty before Charlotte, and I didn't want her to be seen that way. I guess I'd just been so fucking obsessed with her for so long now, I assumed everyone else got it.

I gave up on unpacking and went next door to bang on James' door. He hadn't been downstairs with everyone else but I knew he was home from the sounds of video games through the wall.

"Hey dude," he said as he opened his door. "How was Whistler?"

I didn't respond as I pushed through the open space and strode into his room. I rubbed my jaw absentmindedly as I tried to figure out what to say. "I need to talk... I think."

James' eyebrows shot up in surprise and a small smile played on his lips. "Alright, I'm interested. Go on."

"I don't know. The guys were all fucking around downstairs and this rookie said some shit about Charlotte."

"Oh no," James interrupted, "Did you hurt him? Archer we've been through this you need to use your words."

"Oh for fuck sakes I regret this already," I sighed when James cracked up at his own joke.

He motioned for me to continue so reluctantly I did.

"No, I did not hurt him. I gave him a warning.

But the guys started talking about how a lot of people probably think Charlotte's just another girl and I dunno, it pisses me off. "

James nodded thoughtfully. "You want people to know how important she is?"

"I guess? I mean, I'm pretty fucking sure she's it for me, dude. I don't want people disrespecting her and putting her in the same category as like..." I scrunched up my face as I tried to remember the names of girls I'd been with.

"Tara? Bridgette? Rebecca?" James offered. "Teela?" He added with a full-body shiver.

"Okay, so you get the fucking point. She's not them."

"Well, I'd say you need to do something then to set her apart. A public declaration if you will," James said stoically.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I asked as I dropped onto his bed.

"In today's world? It means an Instagram post."

I considered that for a moment. I only had an Instagram because every once in awhile Coach made us post about fundraisers and shit. Rarely did I ever open the app but I had seen some sappy shit once or twice of guys doing appreciation posts for their girlfriends.

"Alright," I sighed. I pulled out my phone and instantly knew which picture I would post. It was a screenshot from the news story that had run when the Trojans won the championship.

A smile tugged at my lips as I looked at the picture.

My back was angled towards the camera with my number on display.

Charlotte was in my arms beaming down at me, with tears visible on her face.

I liked that you couldn't see much of me but the outline of my cheek made it clear I was smiling too.

This picture was a snapshot of the happiest I had ever been.

"What do I caption it?" I asked as I stared at my phone.

"I don't know, just say something nice," James shrugged.

I rolled my eyes, "Really fucking helpful.

" I wracked my brain for something to say under the picture.

I didn't want to bare my soul to a bunch of strangers, but I wanted to make it clear Charlotte was special.

It needed to be honest, but not gross. My mind drifted to my beautiful, strong, hilarious girl and it only took a millisecond to come up with something.

I typed it quickly, tagged her, and hit share before I could doubt myself.

"Well now that the world crisis is averted... how was Whistler for real?" James asked.

I got a little awkward as I thought about the trip. I'd learned a lot about James that I wasn't sure I was supposed to know. "Oh yeah, it was cool," I said distractedly.

"That's all I get?" He laughed.

"Well there was some drama," I added. I immediately regretted it when I saw the interest spike in James' eyes. "It was nothing major just between Charlotte and Ollie. You know, family stuff." I avoided his eye contact in hopes that he'd drop it.

"What happened?" James prompted with genuine concern in his voice.

"Fuck well... fuck." I rubbed my hand over my face to clear my frustration. I didn't know what I was allowed to say. "Look I don't know if it's still a secret or not. But I—you know—know now."

I finally made eye contact with James and he was glaring back at me. Not in anger, but as though he was trying to solve difficult math in his head. "You know?"

"I know."

"Everything?" He clarified.

"Don't be mad at him he was really going through it." I grimaced. I felt like a traitor for selling Ollie out.

"So you know I'm gay?" James asked slowly, to which I nodded promptly. "And you feel... how about it?"

"Why do people keep expecting me to feel a certain way? It doesn't fucking matter to me who you get with." That wasn't completely true of course. Knowing how torn up Ollie was about James, I would not be cool if he moved on with some other moron.

"Thanks, man, that means a lot," James smiled. "But you get why I need to keep it quiet right? Like I'm out and proud, raise the rainbow flag and all that shit. But there aren't many NFL teams that will sign an openly gay halfback."

"I get it," I agreed. "But since we're on the topic—" Fuck I was really digging myself into this hole. But I felt like I owed it to Ollie to try. "Look, I don't know exactly what happened between you two but Ollie was pretty upset in Whistler."

"Let me guess." James rolled his eyes. "He was wasted the whole time?"

"No actually. I mean he was drinking the first day or so. But once we got everything out on the table, I barely saw him with a beer in his hand. Maybe a glass of champagne once?"

James narrowed his eyes at me in disbelief. "But not drunk?"

"Not drunk," I repeated. I felt accomplished when James slowly accepted what I said, but then he shut himself off.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I can't focus on the drama anymore. I need to focus on football and that's it. I've got one more year to prove to the scouts I'm good enough and I can't fuck that up."

I rested back on my knuckles, unsure exactly how I was supposed to proceed. It was hard enough trying to talk to my friends about girls, I didn't know how to talk to them about my other friends.

James must have taken my silence for frustration because he held his hands up in defence. "I know he's your brother but I can't deal with it, man. If that means you gotta take his side I get it. It sucks but I get it."

I stared at James for a moment as I considered what he said. It made sense. Oliver had been my best friend since we were kids. Was I supposed to choose his side? Was I disloyal if I didn't?

"Oliver is my brother," I agreed, "and I'll always have his back." James nodded defeatedly before I could continue. "But you've had my back a fuck ton too, bro. So I'm not choosing sides."

I shifted awkwardly as a multitude of emotions crossed James' face. I really didn't want to make this a thing. He seemed to realize that because he got a hold of himself and relaxed.

"Thanks, man," he grinned.

"Yeah, whatever. Besides I'm hoping there's a way this can all get fixed. What the fuck does Tyler always say? I boat you guys?"

James leaned his head back and barked in laughter. "Yep. That's exactly what it is."

Later that evening I was back in my room and almost finished unpacking.

I opened my phone to check out the Instagram post and was pretty surprised when I saw more than three hundred likes.

I hadn't even realized that many people followed me.

I was about to toss my phone on the bed when a text came through that made my blood run red hot.

I threw my phone across the room in frustration, flexing my fist to release some tension.

Bryan was never going to fucking stop. I had been so naive to think that a quick phone call could solve everything.

I mean, had it crossed my mind that I didn't have to honour a verbal agreement?

Sure. But I hadn't planned on intentionally double-crossing him.

If he upheld his word and left Mom and Annie alone, I would have stayed true to my word.

But of course Bryan fucking Johnson didn't do anything without a contract.

I crossed the room to pick up my phone again and check it for cracks. I closed the text without responding, just like I'd done to the ones he sent before. Instead, I punched in the number I'd been given only recently, and raised the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing.

"Hello?" I heard a deep voice on the other end.

"Hi Mr. Avery," I sighed defeatedly. "He texted again. I think we need to move this along."