Page 21 of Whatever Happens

What the fuck is going on?

Before I can even check the messages, my phone is ringing.

Coach Masterson.

“Hey, Coach,” I say into the phone. I’m still feeling pretty damn good from my night with the mysterious Lexie, but more so from all the progress I’ve been making on my arm.

“My office. Two o’clock.”

He disconnects the call before I can even respond.

What the fuck is going on?

The message that started it all is from Green.

Green: Been saving this for a special day. Carter, my man, I didn’t think you had it in you.

Beneath it—a video attachment.

There’s no sound to the video, but the damn picture is clear—crystal clear—and what I’m doing in it is more than obvious. The visions before me are ingrained in my mind and now, for the whole team to see.

The texts that won’t stop aren’t just from the guys.

There’s one from my sister. Travis, a friend from high school.

They’re all about the same thing. A sex tape. My sex tape. Mine and Lexie’s, to be exact.

Thank God Green is a shitty camera man, and you can’t see her face. It obvious he was out to embarrass me. Well, mission fucking accomplished.

It’s only been a little over a week, but things between Lexie and I have been going great. There was just something about her from the moment we met. An instant connection. And now, thanks to Green and this fucking tape, all that might be destroyed.

Please pick up. Please pick up.

I think the words on repeat as I listen to the phone ringing. I can only hope that hearing the news from me, rather than seeing it for herself, softens the blow. When she doesn’t answer, I opt for a text. As I am in the process of sending it, another message from Green comes through.

Green: I did not do that, man. It was just supposed to be a joke.

A joke?

I knew the guy was an idiot, but did he really think that putting an intimate tape out for the world to see was going to be funny? That I would think that it’s funny? That Lexie would?

I will give him this—my life has certainly become a joke. One long fucking punchline. And it ends… now.

The entire way to the stadium, I try to reach Lexie. Voicemails pleading with her. Texts begging her. Fear settles in the pit of my stomach. She knows. She hates me.

I hate me, too.

How could I have been so fucking stupid? For as wrong as Green was to publicize this, I was so fucking wrong to do it.

“Where’s Green?” I shout into the crowded room. I’ll atone for my part in this, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Green off the fucking hook.

He steps out from around the corner. His face is riddled with guilt, a fucking ploy so I don’t kill him. This guy doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. He moves farther into the room, his hands up as though he’s surrendering.

“You have to believe me… I didn’t do this.”

“You sent the text, asshole. Everyone saw it.”

“That’s it, though. I swear. I sent it to the guys. I would never do that to you.”

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