Off the Field

Chapter Fifteen

“Your funeral,” I agreed and disappeared into the locker room. As I located my duffel bag and began to change for practice, I became aware of a loud voice echoing aggressively from the back of the room. Curious, I walked sock footed down the row to the door that led to another room of more private lockers.

Behind the glass window stood some guy with his back to me, his phone pressed to his ear and one hand entangled in his hair. He paced forward a few steps, his back tense, and his voice snapped with bitter emotion.

“What do you mean? You said just last week it was fine!”

His hand dropped from his dark hair, clenching at his side. The door muffled his words, but then his voice rose sharply.

“I can’t…you know I can’t do that, damn it!”

And without warning, he suddenly slammed his arm against the lockers, banging a few loose doors shut. I jumped back, alarmed, as the guy slipped his phone into the bag seated on the locker next to him.

For a moment, he simply stood there flexing his fists like he wanted to take it out on the locker again, but then he drooped a little, pulled a soccer ball out of his bag, and hurtled it at the opposite wall. The rest of his bag rapidly followed the black and white streak, water bottle and shoes and shin guards thrown onto the floor until the guy wilted against the locker, his profile visible to me for the first time.

I’d never seen so much anger and frustration on Jackson Davis’ face, not even when as a captain I had given him hell for showing up late to our last game. I had been convinced he was going to punch me out, but I guess his playing time meant more to him than that.

Wondering what his problem was, I backed away from the door and went back to my bag, pulling on my long socks. Let Davis be late to practice if he wanted to trash the locker room by himself; I had a little less than ten minutes to get out there.

In the space between the two locker rooms, I stopped to fill my water bottle and to wait for Kasey to come out of the girls’ room, like usual. She was already there, leaning against the wall in her Spandex and pink t-shirt as I stood at the drinking fountain. As I grinned at her, she tossed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder and inspected her nails, ignoring me.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” I took her perfectly manicured hand. “What’d I do for the cold shoulder now, huh?”

“I’d never give you the cold shoulder,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes. “I just had a little question for you.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

Kasey laced her fingers through mine, not meeting my eyes. “So I noticed you talking with that Mallory girl a lot lately. Who is she, again?”

“Mal?” I blinked. “Um, she’s one of my best friends. I’ve known her forever.” I raised an eyebrow, amused. “If you think I’m cheating on you –”

“Of course not,” she said quickly, stepping closer to me. “It just looks a little bad when you hang out with her all the time. You know, people might start to talk. You don’t want that to happen, do you? I know I wouldn’t like that.”