Before You | 18+ | ✓

24: jj

Trent has been avoiding me all day which is something I don't mind, except that also includes on the field.

After throwing his second interception of the day trying to get it to our other wide receiver, I'm so fucking close to pulling my helmet off and getting in his face. I clench my hands in my gloves as our crowd jeers at Trent, clearly frustrated that we are unable to score.

Our coach is about ready to throw his own fit on the sidelines because Trent is ignoring every single play that involves me.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Asher asks me, lowering his voice. "Is he really going to blow this game rather than pass the ball to you?" Asher came and picked him up last night rather than letting the prick drive drunk. Marley was shaken up and I couldn't leave her or I would have done it myself.

"Apparently." I answer tightly, trying to reel my temper in.

I didn't mean to pin him against the wall last night. Actually, even thinking that is a lie. The only regret I have is that I didn't punch him for the shit he was saying about Marley. I do however regret doing it in front of Marley. I don't want her to be afraid of me, and I don't think she is.

But she shouldn't have seen that. I need to keep my cool better.

I just couldn't stand there and listen to him berate her for something that never happened. Us being together isn't wrong.

I glance up at the box I know my family is in today and I can only imagine how fired up my parents are. This clearly wasn't the game for them to come to, but nevertheless, I'm glad they're here.

We jog off the field and Coach is ripping Trent a new one. "Fucking hell," I curse under my breath, spraying water into my mouth.

"Whatever the fuck happened last night, fix it." Luca says, moving to stand next to me.

"How am I supposed to fix it?"

He smacks the back of my helmet. "You're supposed to be the smart one."

I groan but shove my feelings to the side to approach Trent. "Look, we don't have to love each other, but you're screwing everyone over by not passing me the ball. I've been wide open all night."

He stares at me, a hard expression on his face. He says nothing to me and I scoff before walking away. I'm antsy to get back on the field and do something. I hate that my personal life is fucking with things on the field.

I wouldn't change a thing though. Trent is a piece of shit that wasn't good enough for Marley; fuck, I don't even know if I'm good enough, but I'm willing to try.

Unfortunately our defense doesn't hold the other team's offense and we are now down by eighteen points. I do my best to shake it off, but if I don't touch the ball this time, I don't know if I can control my temper.

I listen carefully awaiting the play to be called, and I nearly fall over in shock that Trent actually called a passing play that involves me.

The minute the snap occurs, I'm off, pumping my arms and legs to generate the most speed in order to set myself up correctly for his throw. Turning my head, I catch sight of the perfect spiral. I reach out, but as the ball hits my hands, I'm hit hard from the side.

Air is immediately knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground hard, my knee twisting underneath me. The knee that should have been safely enveloped in a brace to protect it, but I stubbornly thought I was fine.

The ball is cradled to my chest, but I see stars in my vision from the pain coursing through my body.

It takes a moment for oxygen to fill my lungs, a moment too long for our coach and our trainers are at my side in an instant.