Chapter 39

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Noah's POV

I smash my fist against one of the lockers in frustration, making the door slam shut loudly as I enter the locker room. It's halftime and we're getting wrecked. Those guys are fucking unstoppable, they're destroying us and we're down by 13 points.

I have to get it together, I need this win. There's too much at stake here. For the first time, I have a girlfriend in the stands, to which I made the promise of a win. And most importantly, I have a college scout analyzing my every move under a microscope. If I don't pull this off, I lose everything, all my plans for the future fall through the cracks, and I don't have a backup.

I press my forehead against the cold metal of my locker and I take slow and steady breaths, thinking that I need to get my nerves under control before I let them paralyze me. Beads of sweat run down my face as I try to calm myself down, and without meaning to, but wanting to concentrate on anything other than my troubling thoughts, I tune into a conversation I imagine I'm not supposed to be hearing.

"What the fuck is up with Reed tonight?" Luke asks the rest of the circle.

"I don't know man," Chad responds, "Maybe it's the pressure. He has a lot going on this game and it's probably psyching him out."

"It's definitely his girlfriend that's the problem," I hear Mason cut into their conversation and I clench my jaw tightly.

"Noah has a girlfriend?" Luke asks, "Who?"

"Maddison Sterling," Mason replies, "Little one, long brown hair, nice ass," he says and I can practically hear the smug fucking grin on his face. He knows I can, he's trying to get a rise out of me.

"She won't let him pipe and his blue balls are probably messing with his head" he piles on, and I ball my fists so hard that my knuckles start turning white. "If you ask me, I would say that's because she's been getting it somewhere else. I mean I wouldn't mind hittin' that." I feel my boiling blood pumping through my veins. I'm going to kill this guy.

"Are you going to do something about that?" Tyler asks, appearing next to me, gesturing at the guys with his head as he takes off his gloves.

I should, I know I should. And I want to, but I can't get in a fight right now. Tonight determines my future, and I can't let Mason ruin it for me. I mean, do you think a college scout would recruit a quarterback that beats up his own teammates? I don't. This will just have to wait until the game is over, it'll give me time to meditate over a few ways I can murder him.

"You don't want to push me right now Tyler," I warn through gritted teeth.

He holds my gaze, nostrils flared, nails digging into his palms and jaw clenched tightly. "Fuck it," he says, and before I can even process his reply he turns around and his fist connects with Mason's jaw at full force.

Mason staggers back and takes a second to wipe at his lip. Seeing the red bloodstain on his thumb, he charges at Tyler and hits him near the eye. Being twice his size, Mason's punch sends Tyler flying backward and I catch him before he topples down to the ground. That should've been me, so without a second thought, I sit Tyler on the floor and out of the way, taking his place and jabbing Mason on the cheek with all the strength that I can muster up.

He falls to the ground and I kick his side, not hard enough to break any bones, but enough to knock the wind out of him since he doesn't have his gear on. I'm ready for another hit, but before I can do any more damage, Jackson grabs me from behind and pulls me back. Mason is still on the floor, a few guys gathering around him to help him up, but he shrugs them off aggressively. When he stands up, I can tell by the look on his face that he wants to hit me back, but he stops himself, knowing that if he tried it he'd probably end up dead.

"Listen to me you little piece of shit." I spit at him, "Maybe you like getting rejected, or maybe Maddison is just too nice to tell you to fuck off. Either way, you don't seem to be getting the message, so let me make it very clear for you. You're going to drop this right now. It's over man. You had your chance, or should I say chances? And you blew it again and again. So now it's time you back off. If you even think about going after my girlfriend ever again, a sore jaw will be the least of your problems. Got it?"

He doesn't reply. Instead, he holds my gaze, frowning and gritting his teeth. I take his silence as an answer. "Glad we agree," I say, shaking Jackson off and storming out of the locker room.

Once outside I grab my shirt by the hem and wipe the sweat off my face with it. I hear footsteps behind me and I turn around to see Tyler walking out of the locker room. He has a very visible cut on his cheekbone and already a bluish tint is starting to take over the skin around his eye. That is going to look gnarly tomorrow.

"You okay man?" I ask, knowing that bruise should be on my face and not his.

"I'm fine," he grumbles, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. "No, you know what?" he walks up to me after a pause, "I'm not. You wanna know why? Because you hesitated. And you and I both know you wouldn't have stopped it if I hadn't intervened," he spits, hatred in his eyes.

"I couldn't," I say through gritted teeth, "I shouldn't have. I have a lot riding on tonight's game and I can't just go around fistfighting my teammates."

"You could've said something!" he exclaims. "For god's sake, you didn't even flinch. You would've let him trash talk Maddison and get away with it, just like that."

"You don't know that," I say looking somewhere behind him.

"Oh I do, and you do too, but she doesn't have to. I won't tell her, I'll tell Syd I got hurt during the game, she'll pass that excuse onto Maddison, and you'll take the credit for dealing with that asshole. And I'm going to let you do that because even though I love her, I know she loves you. So do me a favor. Don't hesitate next time."

He shoves my helmet onto my chest and I hold onto it with both hands as I watch him walk away from me, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach as his words echo inside my head.

***

Maddison's POV

I run my hands over my face in exasperation as the coach's whistle blows indicating halftime. The football players vacate the field, being replaced by the cheerleaders for their performance. I debate whether I should follow Noah and give him a few words of encouragement, since he doesn't seem to be doing that well, but I don't know if pointing it out would do more damage than not. I haven't been there to support him all week, and I think it's now or never, so trying to wipe the worry off my expression I sprint down the bleachers and head to the boy's locker room.

The night's dew on the grass makes my canvas shoes wet with each step I take. As I approach the changing rooms I hear a commotion in the distance, so I pick up my pace. I find the football team outside of the locker room, split into two groups opposite each other and with a few feet between them.

I spot Noah standing tall amongst the crowd, Jackson clinging to his side as if holding him back. Even though Noah has his back turned to me, I notice his heavy breathing by the way his padded shoulders rise and fall dramatically.

I jog over, snaking through the wall of buff and tall guys until I make it to Noah's side, taking his hand and standing in front of him. He wears a stern expression on his face, his teeth visibly biting down hard on the inside of his cheek as he looks straight ahead without addressing me.

"Noah?" I try to get his attention, and only at the sound of my voice do his eyes avert from whatever they were fixated on to look down at me. "Are you, okay? What happened?" I ask, worried when he doesn't say a word. I've never seen him mad before, he's always very calm and collected, at least around me. I can tell he's trying to keep his composure right now.

"That asshole was running his mouth and he got what he deserved. That's what." Jackson responds for him. I turn around and the pieces finally click when I see a group of guys huddled around Mason, who's sitting on a bench and holding an ice pack to his face.

"Did you hit him?" I ask, turning back to Noah, but once again he just stares down at me without giving me an answer. "Did he say something about me?" I ask, knowing that it is a pretty self-absorbed assumption to make, but given my conversation with Mason this afternoon, I think the question is justified.

"Yes," Noah grumbles lowly, his jaw shifting from the pressure building in it.

I let go of my grip on his hand, hurrying over to Mason before Noah can stop me. The guys surrounding him move aside, and their murmuring dies down as I crouch down in front of Mason. "Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine," he says, wiping dried blood off his nose with his shirt, "He just came at me out of nowhere!" he says angrily.

"I heard, and I'm sorry." I comfort him, "Just try to forget about it for now. You still have the second half to play, so focus on that and I'll deal with Noah after the game." I say, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Really?" he frowns and I nod, helping him stand up. "Thanks, Mads," he says.

"So, does it hurt a lot?"

"Honestly, it could've been a lot worse. Thanks for asking, though. I appreciate the concern. Seriously." He gives me a small close-lipped smile.

"It's the least I can do," I say, returning it, "Now, are you all ready to get back out there?" I ask.

"Yeah, I just have to go in there and put on my gear." He says, absentmindedly looking back and gesturing towards the lockers.

"Good," my tone darkens as I confirm my suspicions and grab him by the shoulders, kneeing him in the groin as hard as I can. He falls to his knees groaning, doubled over by the pain and I bend down so that I'm close to his ear. "You feel that?" I ask "Remember that the next time you ever put my name in your mouth again, got it?" He whines in pain from the ground. "Great!" I say sweetly, patting his cheek twice before walking back to Noah, whose mouth is agape.

"He won't be a problem anymore." I say, "Good luck babe!" I smile innocently as I stand on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek before starting towards the bleachers.

"Let's go jaguars!"


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