Brett

I straddled the bench in the locker room, lifting off my t-shirt and using it to wipe the sweat off my face. I was exhausted. I wanted to go home, take a shower, lay in bed and pass the fuck out for the next week.

James walked in a minute later, looking just as exhausted as I felt. For the past two hours, we had been working out. The gym seemed to be the one place that allowed me to let out my aggression. Safe to say I'd been spending a lot of time here lately with all the shit going on.

"That chick on the treadmill was watching you the entire time. I'm surprised she didn't fall off," James slammed his locker shut while chuckling to himself, turning to face me and waiting for my response.

"What chick on the treadmill?" There was a chick on the treadmill? I didn't even notice. I was completely zoned out. The entire point of coming to the gym was to get my mind off of everything - off of one specific girl, to be precise.

Not to mention that I only have eyes for one girl these days.

James stared at me blandly, looking like he wanted to slap me. "You didn't notice her?"

"No."

He laughed, shaking his head back and forth. "You've got it bad, man. Real bad."

"You have no fucking idea," I grumbled, taking a clean t-shirt out of my bag and pulling it over my head.

"So what's the deal with you two?" James sat on the bench in front of me, watching me with his green eyes that stood out too brightly against his dark skin.

James was a good dude, he was one of the few guys on the football team I actually liked. But right now, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about Becca. Her face already occupied my mind everyday, speaking about her made my heart rip open.

I shook my head, dismissing his question and pulling on a pair of sweatpants over my shorts. I was halfway through throwing all my shit in my bag when he spoke again.

"Wells, what the fuck are you doing?" Now this caught my attention, I reluctantly looked up and raised one eyebrow at him. "You've spent everyday this week at the gym with me. I know I'm a good looking dude," he smirked, "but wouldn't you rather be spending this time with your girl?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I shot him a dangerous look that said don't push me on this.

"Well that's too damn bad, isn't it? Did you two break up?"

"No." I answered immediately.

"She cheat on you?"

I glared at him. I was going to punch him.

"I'll take that as a no!" He yelled, throwing his hands up and laughing. When his laughter subsided, he slapped me on the back and said, "You're a good guy, Wells. You've got a big heart. But I didn't think you were the type to give up on someone you love."

"I didn't give up on her." Did I?

"You sure she knows that?" James shut his locker, locking it before he turned to me with his gym bag slung over one shoulder. "Girls like to feel wanted, dude. They want a guy who'll fight for them, not one who goes running at the first sign of trouble."

I shook my head, he didn't understand. "It's not like that, James. She... she doesn't love me, man. She doesn't." I closed my eyes, trying to block out the crushing pain in my chest.

"You're an idiot." James said to me as I gave him the finger. "That day you skipped school weeks ago, Becca came walking into the cafeteria looking determined as hell. She walked right up to our table, swallowed her damn nerves just to find out if you were alright, Wells."

I stared at him. "She did?" That must have been the day she came to the hotel, the day she confused my mother for being someone else.

"She did," James repeated, nodding at me. "The girl's in love with you, man. Maybe she hasn't admitted it to herself, but damn. The way she walked up to our table? She looked like she would gladly kick all our asses just to find yours," he threw his head back and laughed at his own joke.

I grinned. That's my girl.

Just like that, I needed to see her. I needed to hold her, to kiss her. What the fuck was wrong with me? I missed an entire week with her because I couldn't swallow my damn pride and man up.

I was so focused on self-loathing that I didn't hear what James said, but the name Grayson caught my attention - Grayson, the biggest douch-bag I've ever met and most hated guy on the team. Just the mention of his name got my blood boiling.

"What did you say about Grayson?" I asked, my knuckles already clenching.

James eyes went wide, their green flashing a little brighter. I knew that whatever he was going to tell me won't be good.

"Becca didn't tell you?"

"No," I spat, my voice dangerously low. "What the fuck did he do to her?"

"Brett," he lifted his hands up in a warning, his voice cautious. "Sit down, man."

I didn't even realize I had stood up. I was towering over James, probably looking like a damn psychopath.

"James, tell me what the hell he said."

James took a deep breath, running his hand over his head, suddenly looking exhausted.

"Grayson made some asshole comment about how your girl must be great in bed to keep you all to herself."

I saw red. Everything was red. I could feel my heart beat speed up, thumping so loudly it was going to break past my ribcage and plummet onto the floor.

I smashed my fist into the locker, the sound echoing throughout the small room. "I'm going to kill him," I warned. And I meant every word of it.

From the corner of my eye, I saw James walking over to me slowly. He was afraid. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I almost slapped it off.

He's not the enemy, my brain reminded me.

"You touch Grayson, you're off the team, man. We need you for finals. Don't let him ruin this for us." Don't let him ruin this for me, was what he meant. James loved football, the team was his life, but his family had money problems. I knew the little bit he was willing to tell me. He was relying on a football scholarship for college, he needed to win the state championship.

"James, do you know what you're asking me to do? How the fuck am I supposed to play on a team with that asshole?"

"Please, man. I need this." He begged me. I glanced at him and immediately regretted it, his eyes were full of sadness and I could feel myself caving. "After the championship, I'll help you kick his ass, I promise, man. Please."

I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles, not believing the word I was about to say. "Fine," I agreed and his entire face lit up.

"I owe you, brother. Thank you."

"After the championship, I'm going to kill him," I promised. No one could talk about Becca like that and get away with it. She was a virgin, for fucks sake - another thing I love about her.

I pictured her face, her bright eyes, her big lips. I imagined her hand in mine, the way she smells, the way she felt. I let her presence consume me until I felt the anger flee my chest and was overcome with the magnitude of love I felt for her.

I breathed in, then out. The world began to stop spinning, the red fading from my vision. I wanted to drive to her apartment now, every second that ticked by felt like time wasted. But it was late, Becca was probably laying under her blanket, tucked into her bed peacefully and drifting off to sleep.

Tomorrow. I would make things right tomorrow.

Grabbing my gym bag, I followed James out of the locker room and for the first time in a week, I freely let my mind drift to Becca.

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