Page 11 of Resist Me

With my pride in watching him flourish under his father’s influence, I felt fear. Not for him but for myself. For nearly ten years, I’d fought with everything I had to avoid turning into my own dad. Was it inevitable? Negative influences were arguably more powerful than positive ones. I could put in the work, but where did nature and nurture stop bleeding into one another? If something could break my dad, a man who I’d once looked up to as an idol, who’s to say it wouldn’t just take one fucked up thing in my life to turn me into him?

As I readied myself, I tried to push it out of my head. It wasn’t important right now. All I needed to do was make sure we won.

Once the ball was in my hand, I thrust everything from my mind except my wide receiver and the brutish bastard who had been taking me down the whole first quarter. I imagined steam coming out of his helmet while he breathed like a raging bull. And did I want to get my shit rocked by a bull? Not a chance.

But I did. And it hurt. The ball, though, was already soaring through the air, so the hit didn’t mean much.

I rolled to my knees, then got to my feet. We’d gained twenty yards, which was good enough for me. Turning toward the sideline, I raised my middle finger at Lincoln but didn’t look at him to see his reaction.

My body had already taken a beating tonight, but I was gonna work through it. I needed the rush of adrenaline that came from winning a game. Not just any game. It was the last of the season. Harmon would go out with a bang and it’d be me that got us there.

“Come on,” I muttered as I waited for the ball to be in my hands.

As quick as a whistle, I threw it to Matt. He didn’t make it very far, but I’d take it. I got close to the bull’s face, driven by the thrill of outmaneuvering him. When he shoved my shoulder, I gritted my teeth so that I wouldn’t push him back.

“Don’t celebrate so soon, Densmore.”

I narrowed my eyes, but before I could respond, someone called my name. His statement unnerved me, although I couldn’t say why exactly. It felt personal and since I’d never met the guy, it didn’t make sense.

Barely leading in points, the clock neared its mark. My body ached and I felt a little desperate to reach half time. I needed a breather.

I let out a whoop when the ball left my hands, but it was cut short by a force colliding with my side, knocking me to the ground. A sound of pain left my lips before I could try to stifle it. Curling at the waist, I clutched at my ribs. For a second, I thought that I couldn’t breathe. When I finally managed to pull in oxygen, it just intensified the pain.

“West!” Kai shouted. He dropped down beside me, his eyes frantic.

“I’m fine,” I croaked.

“You’re not fine. What the hell was that?” He gestured at the raging bull, then made an angry sound. “He kept going after you let go of the ball.”

With a groan, I sat up. It was not ideal, but I didn’t want him to know how bad it was. I still had two quarters to go. Half time would give me enough of a break to recover from it. Maybe I could find something to wrap my torso with. Bubble wrap sounded like a good idea right now.

If something was broken, I was sure I’d know. I took Kai’s offered hand and let him use his god-like strength to pull me up. It made everything worse. Still, I kept my face carefully blank. My automatic reaction was to hold onto my ribs, but I thought it’d give me away, so I acted casual.

“You good, Densmore?” coach asked. There was worry in his eyes, but I was sure it was also annoyance. If I couldn’t play, he’d have to find someone else. Kai, maybe. He was decent in the position because of all the time we’d played together.

“Peachy.”

“Good. Let’s get to the locker room. If we keep this up, we might be able to bury these fuckers.”

I walked slower than the rest of them, acting like I was just tired. It took a lot of energy not to make a sound. Kai glanced at me warily a few times, but I just offered him a smile.

While coach talked to us, I said obligatory words in return. It was hard to focus on much through the throb in my side. It wasn’t lost on me that not too long ago, I yelled at Kai for refusing to get checked out after he got hit. Do as I say, not as I do, right?

“Hydrate. Five minutes and we’re back on the field,” coach announced before he pulled out his phone and ignored us.

I tried to drink water, but it hurt to lift the bottle. An involuntary hiss escaped me, which drew Kai’s attention.

“Let me see,” he said, grabbing the bottom of my jersey to pull it up.

I shrugged him off and got to my feet. “Just gonna take a leak.”

It was clear that he was frustrated with me, but I ignored it. This was the last game. I could manage the second half, even if it put me in a coma for the next week.

After making sure that nobody else was around, I stood in front of the sinks and lifted my shirt. The area was red, but it was still early. Tomorrow, my skin would probably be purple. Carefully, I touched my ribs and immediately grabbed the edge of the sink.

“Shit,” I muttered.

That hit was uncalled for and I might’ve said something about how bad this was if I knew they wouldn’t pull me from the second half.

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