Page 57 of Tragic Lies (Rixon High 2)

I told myself it was for the best, that this was how it had to be. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d screwed up somehow. We had a big game coming up though, so I didn’t have time to be distracted.

Let alone by a girl so out of reach, so forbidden, that even letting myself think about her made me feel skeezy.

The semi-final against Limmington High was Saturday in Harrisburg. It was only a short bus ride away and since we’d drawn the midday game, I had no doubt there would be big celebrations or commiserations Saturday night. It was all the guys had talked about in the locker room before and after practice.

By the time Friday morning rolled around, everyone was feeling the pressure, myself included. I climbed out of my car and surveyed the school parking lot, immediately scolding myself for looking for her. As if the universe heard my plea, I found her across the lot. But she wasn’t alone. That asshole Sean Farrow was crowding her against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall beside Peyton’s head as he leaned in and whispered something to her.

Before I knew what I was doing, I stalked toward them, anger rippling through me.

“Morning, Coach,” a voice called, and I glanced over to find Bryan heading in my direction. “What’s u—motherfucker,” he hissed under his breath. “Gotta go, see you at practice.” He took off, jogging toward them and it was enough to snap me out of the trance I’d found myself in.

What the fuck was I thinking? Approaching them—approaching her—like that?

I guess I could’ve pulled the staff card, but still, it was risky. Farrow wasn’t doing anything that Peyton didn’t look like she wasn’t enjoying. In fact, the second Bryan reached them, she looked pissed, as if he was ruining their moment.

A strange tightness squeezed my ribs, but I shook it off as I cut across the lawn, in the direction of the gym. Still, despite telling myself I didn’t care, I couldn’t help but glance over at them again. Peyton was all up in Bryan’s personal space, her finger wagging at his face while he backed away with his hands up. Farrow looked amused, standing there with a cocky smirk as he watched Peyton hand Bryan his balls.

I was too old for this shit. Too old to be worried about whatever teen drama they were tangled up in. But fuck, if I didn’t want to go over there and wipe the smirk right off the little shit’s face. Bryan shook his head and walked away, his dejection obvious even from all the way over here.

“Everything okay?” I asked casually as he reached me.

“Fucking girls,” he muttered, not bothering to slow down.

I lingered, watching as Farrow tried to talk to Peyton again. She brushed him off though, shoving past him and heading for the school building. I should have moved. I should have followed Bryan, because right at the last second, before she slipped inside, Peyton glanced up, finding me across the lawn. Even from the distance between us, I saw her breath catch, her eyes widen. But then her gaze narrowed, animosity rolling off her. She looked fucking adorable, all angry and worked up.

It was a bold move, one I’d no doubt regret later, but I didn’t break our stare off. Or maybe she’d just ensnared me that damn good, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Peyton shook her head, breaking the connection, and ducked inside, not giving me a backward glance.

I was still thinking about her cold stare when I entered the locker room.

“Nice of you to join us, Chase,” Coach Huckley said as he passed me.

“I’m five minutes early,” I gritted out.

“And yet, some of us were here thirty minutes ago. We’ve got a big game coming up Saturday—”

“Seriously, Coach,” I spat the words, “you want to go there?”

Glancing around, I was relieved to find most of the guys minding their business. Huckley pulled last week’s roster off the notice board and tacked the new one up. As expected, there were no big changes.

“I’m just telling it like it is.” He looked me up and down, as if I was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his sneaker.

“Chase, get in here,” Jase’s voice rang out.

“The boss calls,” Huckley held my stare.

“Yeah, I’m going.” I almost shouldered past him but managed to check myself.

He wasn’t worth it. I knew that.

I’d known people like him my whole life. People who liked to remind me I was nothing more than Cameron Chase’s down-and-out brother.

“Come in, take a seat,” Jase said, barely looking up from the notes in front of him.

“What’s up?” I asked, whipping off my Raiders ball cap and running a hand through my damp hair. I may have hit the whiskey a little too hard last night, but I was here on time.

“Here.” He grabbed a manila folder and threw it across the desk.

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