Redemption

PICK A JERSEY

Sometimes when I wake up, I'm unsure of what to do. I can hear people moving around the kitchen, but I never know if I should join them. While I stare at the ceiling, my hair soaking the pillow after showering, and the droplets of water drying on my body, I just listen. I listen to Joey beg Fletcher to make her French Toast. There's music blaring from somewhere downstairs but the sound isn't close enough to be coming from the kitchen. Then there's rummaging in the room beside me.

I don't know how long Carter has been awake. Usually, we're the first ones awake in the house. Winston barely makes a sound in his room down the hallway, but he's barely here most nights. So, we don't see him as much, but he's gone before I wake up, and he gets home sometime after all of us fall asleep so when I hear footsteps on the creaking hardwood floor in the hallway, I know whose it is.

With a few knocks on my door and approval to come in, Carter's head pops through. "Good morning, pretty girl."

"Hi, Carter."

His chest swelled, and for a second, he stood there. He watched me from the spot in front of the wooden door. The hazel-eyed boy stared at me like he was sorting through the words in his brain, and he was trying to figure out what to say, but I rendered him speechless. It isn't a question as to why. He explained it last night. Even if it still confused me why Carter liked hearing the sound of my voice, he did. And I couldn't help but love the way it knocked the breath from his lungs whenever I did it.

"What are you doing today?"

I didn't have any plans. "Nothing."

"Good," he patted my door. "You're going to practice with me."

"Practice?"

"Yes. Football practice," he pointed at me. "Get ready. I'll meet you downstairs in twenty."

I didn't hesitate when the door shut, and he disappeared back into the hallway. I shot off my bed with the intention of meeting him downstairs in twenty minutes. I can't say I looked twice at the outfit on my body before I rushed down the stairs. I hoped the black jean jacket over Carter's hoodie would shield me from the harsh weather.

Before I could round the corner, my body slammed into somebody else's. The slight contact made me jump. I tried not to react to the hands curling around my biceps, but I shoved the person away. Until I saw Carter's eyes staring down at me with shock, I just laughed it off.

I choked on the fear I felt, but I hoped he wouldn't notice it. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," he cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"

I nodded before following him through the backdoor. With every step, I felt the walls of my chest collapsing on me. I wanted to believe he wasn't curious as to why I shoved him so hard, but I hoped he believed me when I said it was nothing because even if I didn't believe myself.

I didn't expect myself to react like that or react at all. He did it to steady me. Not to hurt me. Yet the more I think about it, the more I realize my dad scarred me. It goes beyond the marks on my back, the gash above my eyebrow, and the pain in my ribs I feel every now and then. It's the nightmares I have. The worry of saying too much. Now it's also the fear of being touched.

"You look cute in my hoodie," he broke the thoughts raging in my head. "But we're not practicing outside, pretty girl. We have an indoor field."

"Do you think it's too much?"

His shoulder tipped upward as he looked over the arm controlling his steering wheel.

"I've got a locker full of practice jerseys. You can wear whatever one you want."

My teeth grazed my bottom lip. "Okay."

He didn't say another word before pulling into a parking lot. A few cars filled the spaces, but as I looked around, I wasn't aware of the man pulling open my door.

"Ready?"

I looked back at the hazel-eyed boy standing in front of me, and without hesitating, I followed him. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder before pulling a card from his wallet. The door clicked before allowing us access inside, and as we walked through the well-lit hallways, a few teammates greeted us.

"Let me make sure the locker room is clear, okay?"

I stared at him in skepticism as we stopped outside a closed door, but I didn't ask any questions as he disappeared, leaving me in the hallway by myself.

It didn't take long for the door to open, but instead of the hazel-eyed boy, a blue-eyed one stepped out. His blonde curly hair flopped as he cocked his head to the side in surprise.

"Sully, what're you doing here?"

"Carter asked me to come."

Tory's eyes told a story I couldn't read. I didn't even get the chance to try before the door behind him opened and Carter stepped out. His gaze shifted between me and Tory, but his attention shifted, and he ignored the blonde-haired boy like he wasn't there.

"Come on."

I waved at Tory. "See you later."

"That you will."

The tattooed boy held the door open for me, letting me into the locker room, and I wasn't sure why until we stepped in front of a locker with his last name lit up in gold letters above.

"Pick a jersey, pretty girl."

I looked at the array of colors. The golds. The blacks. The Whites. All different versions. All options for me to choose from. I sifted through before finding an all-black jersey with his name outlined in gold stitching on the back.

"That's one of my favorites," he mumbled. "I'll give you some privacy so you can change."

His footsteps grew further away until the door we came through creaked. I didn't take long to slip from the clothes on my body. As much as I didn't want to leave Carter's hoodie behind, I knew without a doubt, I'd get it back.

I slipped through the locker room door, finding the hazel-eyed boy waiting for me.

"It's kind of big," I tugged at the end of the jersey.

His lips were parted, and he couldn't say a word. I watched his eyes rake over my body. Carter's attention never strayed. Every time it looked like he would say something, his mouth shut.

"I can take it off – "

"Absolutely not."

"Are you sure?"

His hand flattened against his chest. "I'm getting heart palpitations. I'm not sure at all."

"What? Why?"

"You in my jersey is doing crazy things to my health."

I could only bark out a laugh as he breathed deeply. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he palmed his face. "Now I'm gonna have to figure out how to make it through practice without being distracted the whole fucking time."