Page 92 of Second Down Darling

That’s when I’m doused with a huge container ofsoda.

I flinch as the cold liquid and ice hits my face and shoulders, but the debris keeps coming. More soda and some food. A hot dog with mustard and relish smacks my shirt and slowly slides to theground.

I gasp, afraid more crap will rain down on me. Someone must have tripped and accidentally dumped their food over therailing.

When I look up, though, there are two girls in the stands, glaring down at me. I have a hard time making out their faces because they’re covered in face paint, but one yells, “Hey, skank! How does it feel to get Dakota’s sloppyseconds?”

Horrified, I’m frozenstiff.

I don’t see the soda can until it’s toolate.

36

JAKE

When we makeit back onto the field, there’s a weird energy on the sidelines. I can’t explain why, but I’m suddenlyuneasy.

Coach is always telling us we can’t get caught up in what goes on in the stadium, either here or on the road. At this level of competition, so much of our success is mental, and now isn’t the time to getdistracted.

I shake that shit off because we have a game to win. And let me just say that nothing feels better than kicking Troy’sass.

Billy grabs my shoulder. “Youokay?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Why wouldn’t Ibe?”

He blinks. Pauses. “I’ll catch you after thegame.”

“Sure.” I watch him head onto the field. Was that weird or am I imaginingthings?

I don’t dwell on it because this game is too important to lose myconcentration.

By the time our victory music plays at the end of the fourth quarter, we’ve decimated my former team. I head out on the field and greet a few old friends. Even though I had a great game, Evelyn doesn’t want me talking to the press without her. Kinda sucks, but I get it, so I try to avoid themedia.

When I turn around, Troy is waiting forme.

“Hey, man. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I get it.” He’s sweaty and rubbing his shoulder, probably from that last sack. He looks around and lowers his voice as he steps closer. “Just wanted to let you know she played metoo.”

I don’t need to ask whosheis.

A few months ago, I’d have had a hard time not tackling his ass to the ground, but now I don’t care.I have my cupcake and can eat her too. I chuckle to myself. Life is good. Just need to deal with Dakota’s drama for a few more weeks. I can gut itout.

“Whatever, dude. You made your bed.” Technically it was mybed.

The truth is I don’t give a shit about the past anymore, and that apathy feels fuckingincredible.

I look for Charlotte, hoping to touch base with her before I head for the showers, but there are so many people on the field, it’s like looking for a needle in thehaystack.

When I reach the field house, I’m expecting some back slaps from Coach. Maybe an “atta boy” for kicking ass today. Possibly the game-dayball.

Instead, he barks my name when I get to the lockerroom.

“What’s up, Coach?” I ask with a frown. For a dude who just got one step closer to nabbing a spot in the playoffs, he doesn’t lookpleased.

He leads me to the closest private room, which is where the trainers wrap us before a game. It’sempty.

“Did I not make it clear that you needed to cool things off with your girlfriend?” heasks.

My head jolts back at the question. Where the hell did this comefrom?

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