Page 9 of Shielding Rosie

“Stop!” I grab a hold of Tate’s forearm before he can do anything he’ll regret, and I realize the whole cafeteria has gone quiet. “Please,” I say, softer this time as I stare up into his eyes. Tate has always been a gentle giant around me, and something tells me he needs me to calm him down.

Tate releases his hold on Jack, but Jack keeps going and tries to shove at Tate’s chest. Tate doesn’t move an inch, and his hands are fisted at his side. There’s not a doubt in my mind that one hit from Tate would take Jack down.

“Porter!” a voice booms across the cafeteria, and I actually recognize it because I hear it each day when I come and go from school. The coach is always on the field shouting something. “My office. Now.”

“Trying to get at the new girl and my title. You should be the one who’s watching it,” Jack mutters under his breath so only the three of us can hear. I dig my fingers into Tate's arm, silently begging him to not give Jack the satisfaction.

“You know what happens when I have to ask twice, boy,” Coach barks at him.

Jack turns and practically stomps off like a toddler. After this confrontation, I know I’m definitely in Jack’s crosshairs.

“It’s fine,” I tell Tate now that the cafeteria has gone from silent to chattering again. “So Friday is game day. Does that mean I wear the shirt to school on Friday?”

I can feel some of the tension leave Tate’s shoulders, and I don’t want to, but I let go of him. It’s not like I could have really stopped him. I’m not sure anyone in this whole school could have.

“Yeah,” Tate finally says before he sits back down.

“What was that really about?” I ask, wanting to know the whole story because I know it can’t be only about me.

Tate talks so highly of his mom and some of the other influential women in his life. He wouldn’t stand by and let anyone make crude remarks about them. But it’s not as though I’m his girl. Jack has what we are all wrong. I’ve been friend-zoned. It stung when he didn’t try to kiss me, but I would never tell him that. He’s been more than a good friend, and I told myself it was for the best. A kiss could ruin our friendship, and right now he’s my lifeline.

“Guess he got word that he’s not going to be captain this season.”

“Really? Isn’t he the quarterback?” I don’t know much about football, but I thought the quarterback was always the captain.

“He is.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you might be getting that title instead?” Tate nods, still pissed. I think he wants to go after Jack. “He wanted you to hit him. Would that get you benched?”

“Most likely, but Porter gets away with a lot of shit because of his father. There's been a few times he should’ve been benched or kicked off the team, but he always manages to be on the field.” The mention of Jack’s father makes my stomach turn.

“It makes sense you would be the one to get it,” I say, and I notice the more I talk, the more he calms down.

“Why would you say that?”

“You told me you’re the offensive left tackle.” His expression starts to soften.

“I did.” I’m sure he’s putting together that I googled what that was.

“You cover his blindside. The offensive left tackle is usually the most skilled player on the offensive line.”

Finally Tate gives me a smile, but it only lasts a few seconds. “You’ve had a run-in with him before, haven’t you?”

“Kinda.” I shrug. “I met him in town before school started. He asked me to a party, and I turned him down. His friends started teasing him over it, and I could tell he was pissed.”

“Jack’s not used to being turned down. His fragile ego is taking some big blows this week.” Tate reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Don’t be alone with him, Rosie. Not ever.”

“I won’t,” I promise him, and he holds my hand a little tighter. “Your job is to protect Jack, and you were about to lay him out.”

“We’re not on the field.” He stares straight into my eyes. “And he’s not what I’m protecting.”

Now his words are blindsiding me.

Chapter Eight

TATE

It’s Friday, which means it’s the first game of the season, and each day before now has felt like a countdown to something big. During school, I divide my thoughts between classes, football, and Rosie. But every night belongs to only her.

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