Page 21 of Saving the Halfback

“What have you done?” Ed screamed at me, anger and hatred coloring his face as he stepped toward me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, but I was frozen. He grabbed hold of my shirt, his face cracking open, blood and brain matter seeping out as he screamed in my face. “What have you done to me?”

I startled awake,hair plastered to my damp, cold face as I tried to catch my breath. Outside, I could hear the door to the garden shed creaking open, then slamming shut. Creaking open, slamming shut. Creaking open…slamming shut.

“A little dream, princess?” Ed asked from the other side of my room. I looked up from my bed, getting a glimpse of him by the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you.”

It was only a dream, I told myself as I curled onto my side, pulling my blanket up against my chest and holding it tight. “You’re not real.” I whispered, half asleep. “It was only a dream. He let me have this year. I could have this year, he said it was okay. You’re not real.”

I ignored the sound of a dog barking in the distance.

9

Ethan

“Got a problem?” I snapped at John. He stood, staring at Bailey, his fucking mouth hanging so wide, I could practically see his tonsils.

“Shit, Ethan, man, I wasn’t, it’s just she—”

“She’s what?” I challenged him, stepping up until my chest pads bumped him. The guy had to crank his head up to look me in the eye.

“Nothing.” He turned back to the practice at hand and began running through the obstacle.

Damn it.Bailey showed up to afternoon practice wearing nothing but spandex shorts and a black tank top. John was the fourth fucking guy I’d caught leering at her at practice alone, never mind throughout the whole damn day. I thought I was the only one digging a girl with meat and muscle on her bones, but apparently not. News spread of a girl joining the team, and if I heard one more comment about her ass, I was going to be splitting heads.

It would be—no, itwas—easier to watch her back if I actually talked to her, spent time with her, but damn it if my father’s voice didn’t echo through my head. I needed to keep her at a distance. It was better that way.

Coach had her running and working with Nolan on throws and catches, since she had no gear. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t come, hoping she would chicken out or some shit, but she hadn’t. Bailey had gotten timid over the years, but the other day, in history class, when she squared up to me and told me off, it took all my strength not to smile. That just went to show how much of a badass she still was. Something was up with her today, though.

It had been years since Bailey had talked to any of us, and though I wished it was me she’d come to, I knew it couldn’t be. Lachlan was good. Lachlan would stick with her. However, at lunch, she wasn’t stealing Lachlan’s breadsticks like the day before, instead keeping her distance from him. I stopped myself multiple times from pulling Lachlan aside and asking him if he screwed things up already. The problem was…no one even knew I was watching her.

Every time I passed her in the halls today, she had her head down and that damn baseball cap pulled low, covering her face. After getting used to seeing her smile, seeing color in her cheeks, the last couple of days, her altered behavior put me on edge. I found myself watching for anyone that looked at her wrong or talked to her, ready to come to her defense, but no one stepped out of line. What the hell had happened today?

I turned my attention back to running through the obstacle course, but I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder now and then, eyeing her and glaring down any guy stupid enough to get caught staring at her ass.

Bailey McCormick was off-limits. It was the message I was ready to beat into any idiot stupid enough to treat her less than any other player on this team. She didn’t need some asshat, horny, high school dicks trying to get to her.

She was a good friend. We hadn’t deserved her then, but if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have had any friends in gradeschool. Chase and Lachlan had only followed her lead to let me in; I was sure they hadn’t been too keen on letting me join the group. No matter what I did to her when we were kids, she’d gotten up and shrugged, like it was no big deal, until eventually, she cornered me and demanded we be friends. Was that what I had wanted? A friend? No. I pushed people away so they wouldn’t be targets to my father… She hadn’t let me push her away, though.

I’d paid for it. I still remembered my thirteenth birthday, when I had the three of them over. Bailey baked a cake, and we each fought through the taste as we shoved a slice down our throats, telling her it tasted great between grimaces. It wasn’t long before the others ran outside, blowing chunks in a nearby bush while I booked it to the bathroom.

I was startled when I burst through the door, seeing my father standing there. But the vomit was coming up, no matter what, so I mumbled an apology as I ran to the sink. Once the cake had made its second appearance, I was rinsing my mouth out in the sink when I saw it. The needle. Just sitting there. I turned off the faucet and was almost afraid to look in the mirror, like maybe he would jump at me or something. I was used to my father getting drunk—he would get angry, belligerent, charging around, looking for something or someone to drive his fist into. When I turned around, though, this was a different side, a different addiction than I had seen before.

He just stood there, looking as if he were asleep. I remembered my father’s friends acting like this, as though in a zombie-like state. His mind fought to open his eyes, but his body was so drugged up, it didn’t want to respond. He had told me they were just nodding out and not to stare, leave them be, and whatever I did,do not call for help. Never call for help. Here he was now, hunched over, his face sagging, like he didn’t have the energy to even hold his facial muscles in place as he swayed.

Hearing Bailey and the guys come back into my small house, my eyes returned to the syringe briefly before I backed out of the bathroom, closing the door.

I cleared my throat as I turned to my friends, telling them we should go to the pitts, the local park. They all agreed, obviously seeing something in me, in my expression, that had them agreeing. They wouldn’t understand. They all came from normal families. Iknewmy father wasn’t normal. IknewI had to keep some things to myself. This was one of them. I had to protect the others. I had to protect Bailey from it. I could never let him touch her, ever.

I remembered going to the pitts and thinking, if I just told them or told an officer, maybe things could be different. Maybe things would turn out better. Or maybe it would turn worse.That was when I knew I could never talk to anyone. The thought of it getting better was a fantasy; the thought of it getting worse would always be a reality to me.

In the end, it did get worse.

“Ethan,” Chase yelled at me, snapping me back to the present. He was holding up a tackle bag. “Head outta the gutter.”

Fucker. I ran at the bag, got low, and threw my body into the tackle. Chase didn’t have a moment to step back and came down with me. “Asshole,” he yelled at me.

“Fuck off, Jacobs.” I pushed off him and got to my feet.

“Stop eye fucking Bailey.” He stood up so we were toe to toe.

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