Page 79 of The Goal

Now the fear is even worse, for a whole other reason.

“Beau is dead?” My heart pounds dangerously fast. I’m scared it’s going to give out on me.

I’m scared of the grief I see in Tucker’s eyes.

“Yes. He’s gone, darlin’.”

I can’t understand it. Ican’t. Beau is Briar’s starting quarterback. Beau is my friend. Beau’s dimples always pop out when he’s flashing you a particularly naughty grin. Beau is…

Dead.

A car accident, apparently. His father survived but Beau died.

The tears I’ve been fighting spill over and stream down my cheeks in salty rivulets. I try to breathe between sobs, but it’s hard, and eventually I’m hyperventilating. That’s when Tucker wraps me up in a warm, tight embrace.

“Breathe,” he whispers into my hair.

I try, I really do, but the oxygen isn’t getting in.

“Breathe.” Firmer this time, and his hands are moving up and down my back in comforting sweeps.

I manage to take a breath, and then another, and another, until I’m not feeling quite so dizzy. The tears are still falling, though. And my chest feels like someone sliced it open and is poking it with a hot blade.

“He’s…” I gulp. “…was. He was such a good guy, Tuck.”

“I know.”

“He was good andyoungand he shouldn’t be dead,” I say fiercely.

“I know.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

Tucker holds me tighter. I burrow against him until there’s nowhere left to go. His strong, solid body is the anchor I need right now. It allows me to cry and curse and rail at the world, because I know Tuck is here, listening to me and steadying me and reminding me to breathe.

A loud knock causes both of us to jump.

“Keep it down in there,” comes Ray’s horrible voice. “‘The hell am I s’posed to watch the game if I can hear you bawling all the way from the living room? You on the rag or somethin’?”

A strangled sob flies out of my mouth. Oh God. Nothing like an interruption from Ray to highlight what an emotional mess I am—an emotional mess whoisn’thaving her period. Because she’s goddamn pregnant.

My breathing grows shallow again.

Tucker keeps stroking my back as he answers my stepfather. “If you can’t hear the TV, turn up the volume,” he calls tightly.

There’s a beat, then, “Is that you, jock boy? Didn’t realize Rina had company.”

“We walked right past him when you let me in,” Tucker mutters to me.

Yeah, we had. But Ray’s drunker than usual tonight. He spent the whole day at a sports bar with his buddies, getting loaded while they watched the afternoon football games.

“He could barely walk in a straight line when he got home this evening,” I mutter back.

Ray pipes up again, slurring like crazy. “Mus’ not be too good in the sack if you’re making the bitch cry!”

I grab Tucker’s arm before he can stand up. “Ignore him,” I whisper. Then I raise my voice and address Ray. “Go watch your game. We’ll keep it down.”

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