Page 13 of Playmaker

Realizing the ramifications of what she just revealed, Penelope’s face pales. “I—I mean, I thought he was ending things with her. He said he was going to before we—”

Ethan shoves back from the table, his tray slamming into mine. “I’m going to kill him,” he says, seething.

Anger is boiling beneath the surface, but unlike Ethan, it would be odd if I became outraged like he is. He’s Maddie’s older brother. He has a reason to be pissed. Michael is a junior trying to take advantage of a freshman, and although this information shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, I can’t help it.

I already broke her heart once.

She doesn’t need it broken again.

And that fucker Michael?

I’ll be damned if he lays another hand on her.

“As soon as I talk to Maddie, I’m cussing him the fuck out,” Ethan sneers.

But me? I’m already rising from the table, muttering an excuse about using the bathroom before I stalk off into the hallway like a lion searching for his prey.

—

“Hey.” Ethan joins me at my locker three periods later, eyeing the bandage wrapped around my fist. “I’m guessing that’s where Michael got his shiner from? I saw him in history. Everyone’s asking about it, but he won’t say who did it.”

I found that fucker in the parking lot coming back from lunch, and I don’t feel sorry about the punch I threw. My anger got the best of me, and looking back, maybe I could have handled things differently, but I was in the heat of the moment, picturing Maddie bawling her eyes out like she did in my living room after my mom passed. I threatened to make his life a living hell if he told a soul it was me. I’m the captain of the football team, after all. I have the authority to exile him from every party and all the girls in school if I want.

It infuriated me that Michael cheated on Maddie of all people. It’s ironic, really, considering I’ve cheated on plenty of girls. I’m not going to claim that I’m a saint because I’d be lying. Who am I to judge Michael when I’m a fucking clone of him? Ethan has covered for me plenty of times when girls become suspicious. I never date them, but I have claimed to be exclusive only to turn around and fuck the next girl who asks.

But Maddie?

I’d never cheat on her.

Never in a million years.

And we may not be on speaking terms ever since our fight two years ago, but that doesn’t mean I won’t look out for her and protect her as much as I can.

“He deserved it,” I mutter. “Don’t say anything, all right? If anyone asks, just . . .”

“I’ll say I did it,” he says. “Unless I get called into the office or something. Then you’re fucked.”

“You don’t have to cover for me.”

“Yes, I do. It should have been me who punched him anyway. I’m her brother, you know? But I know you’re her older brother, too, in a way, so thank you. For looking out for her.”

Right.

That’s what I’m doing.

Looking out for her like anolder brother.

—

The revving of Mark’s car pulling onto the street stayed with me long after Ethan and I got back to his house. I had no reason to wait for her to return. I haven’t been her friend in years, but that didn’t stop my heart from racing as my mind wandered to what the hell she was doing with Mark until two in the morning. My feelings toward Mark are growing dangerously close to how I felt about Michael, and I don’t like it one bit. I’m used to feeling nothing. Being emotionless. But when it comes to Maddie, I feel everythingtoomuch.

Is she still drunk?

It’s pitch black in the living room. Only the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room fills the silence. Ethan went to bed when we got home, but it’s not unusual for me to sleep on the couch. I’m pretty sure the cushions are indented from how many times I’ve slept here.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, I hear the jangling of keys and the front door opening. The hardwood floor creaks beneath her feet, and then the fridge opens, casting a golden glow in the living room.

I should leave her alone, but the longer we go without speaking, the more it upsets me. I’ve been trying to pinpoint why the silence between us has been troubling me so much since I returned. We’ve ignored each other for the past six years, and I was fine with that because it was the right thing to do, but this is the first time I’ve come home from college where itdoesn’tfeel like the right thing to do. Why is that? Because I’m at a place in my life where I don’t hate the world? Because maybe a minuscule part of me believes I could be healed enough to let her back into my life?

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