The bleachers are filled to the brim with spectators attending tonight's football game.
I feel claustrophobic, packed into the crowd of people surrounding me, trapping me in place. It's suffocating to a degree—and I don't use that word lightly after all of the hallucinations of being strangled I've endured over the course of the last few months.
I'm left on edge, as I know exactly what is going to happen tonight. Nothing can seem to take my mind off of my worries.
The bright lights illuminating the field below feel like lasers beaming down on me. The noise of the spectators in the crowd is as loud as waves crashing against the ocean shore, making my ears roar and my head pound. Even my friends sitting next to me aren't comforting enough to calm me down.
The game is due to start any minute now, and I know what that means will soon happen. My stomach twists into knots, leaving me feeling as if I am going to be sick. I reach for my phone with shaking hands, pressing the power button to turn on my screen. I don't know why he's not here yet. He's never late.
The players have started lining up on the field. I spot him without trying to. Just the sight of him makes me ill. Jacob Beckham is someone I don't think I will ever quite be able to get over. He will forever be a ghost that will haunt my past, lingering in the darkest parts of my mind. I hate him for that. There are so many things I hate Jacob Beckham for, but that might be the worst. I despise the realization that he will always have an invisible hold on me—that I will forever be left to choke in his grasp. The irony sends shivers down my spine.
"Are you excited to see Jacob play?" Ben questions innocently. "You know, after the last game . . ."
"Jacob isn't going to play tonight." The sentence comes out strong and clear—very much the opposite of how I'm feeling in the moment.
"What do you mean?" Ivy asks, furrowing her eyebrows as she glances my way in confusion. "Why not?"
I want to answer her question, but I can't. I can't bring myself to say aloud what Jacob Beckham did—can't bring myself to admit the kind of person I allowed into my life, as well as into the lives of my friends.
So I turn away, unable to hold her stare.
I notice him just as he begins making his way up the bleachers. He moves with purpose, taking quick strides in my direction. It isn't long before Zach is falling into the empty space next to me. His presence somehow eases some of my anxiety. He reaches for my hand without having to ask; he knows I need him.
Next to me, Ben and Ivy exchange a curious glance. Ivy catches my gaze and mouths, "Who's that?". I don't offer her an explanation. Come morning, everything will make sense.
"They have him surrounded," Zach says softly into my ear. His tone is kept low so only I can hear his words. "Cops are circling the field. He's not going to get away."
"Good." My voice is bitter. I squeeze Zach's hand tightly in mine. He returns the gesture, sliding closer to me.
The announcer starts to talk over the speaker, signifying the beginning of the game. The players are lined up on the field, rising as the beginning notes of the national anthem start to play. So far, everything is normal—nothing appears to be out of the ordinary. Only Zach and I know what is soon to happen, only he and I know that this football game facade is merely a part of a much bigger plan. After all, if the game was really going to play out tonight the way it typically would, Zach would be down on the field instead of sitting here next to me. However, the police had advised against him joining the rest of his teammates on the field tonight. No one could be positive as to how Jacob would react to seeing Zach after I got a confession out of him, now that Jacob knows his darkest secret isn't so private anymore.
It happens in a blur. A few cries erupt from the crowd as the wail of a police siren suddenly pierces the air, echoing in the newfound silence around me. A squad car pulls onto the field without so much as a warning, leaving tracks behind on the grass. Beams of flashlights look like targets on the field as officers jump out from their hiding spots, swarming the area below me. And yet I can't focus on anything but Jacob. I watch him intently, studying his expression as his features morph from a look of surprise at all of the commotion unfolding to one of fear as realization dawns on him. He takes off down the field instantly, filling me with disgust. How little remorse must he have, trying to outrun justice? He knows what he did. He had to have known this would happen eventually.
"Get down!" A voice booms through a megaphone down on the field, calling out to Jacob as he runs off. "Get on your knees!"
My chest fills with dread as I notice the guns pointed at a boy I once loved. A boy who killed someone in cold blood. A boy I once trusted. A boy I gave everything I had to. A boy I thought I knew. A boy who is now a stranger to me.
I can't look. I hide my face in my hands as my emotions take control, losing myself to hysteria. I sob as Ivy and Ben turn to ask me what is going on, frightened and evidently confused. I can only manage to shake my head as Zach takes me into his arms, facing my sight away from the horror taking place before me.
I peek over my shoulder for only a moment, watching as Jacob falls to his knees on the field as he is overtaken by the police that have him circled. He rests his hands on the back of his head, surrendering once he realizes there is no escaping what he has done.
"Jacob Beckham," the male officer with the megaphone says as another cop shoves Jacob's wrists into a pair of metal handcuffs, "you are under arrest for the murder of Naomi Amira."
Gasps and whispers can be heard erupting from the crowd around me. Even Ivy and Ben are in shock, watching the scene below us take place with slack jaws and wide gazes. No one would ever suspect Redwood's star quarterback to have been the murderer haunting campus these past few months. Jacob had nearly gotten away with the perfect crime.
Nearly. If it hadn't been for me, that is.
I can hardly bear to watch as Jacob is led away from the field and toward the waiting cop car parked in the corner. The red and blue lights flickering from the police vehicle reflect on Jacob's face as he reluctantly walks forward, making him appear ghostly. He glances out into the crowd for a moment, as if searching for something. I can tell he has spotted me by the shadow that crosses his face and the way his sharp features harden as I stare him down. His expression is one of pure evil; a look that expresses nothing but hatred as Jacob gazes at me unwaveringly from a distance. I swallow hard, unable to tear my eyes away from Jacob's.
I'm only able to breathe again as he is forced into the cop car awaiting him, the back door slammed shut on him within seconds. Still, I can feel his eyes continuing to watch me, even through the glass window and the distance that separates us. I am certain that Jacob Beckham will never forget me—just as I knew he wouldn't the night we met at that party what now feels like an eternity ago. He will never forgive me for ruining his life, the same way I will never forgive him for ruining mine. We will forever be bonded by hatred, and I wish it were possible to sever the tie we now have linking us.
"Do you want to get out of here, Blythe?" Zach whispers to me as it is announced tonight's game has been cancelled over the field's speaker, ignoring all of the commotion going on around us.
I nod.
Clutching my hand tightly, Zach leads me away from the football field. I follow after him into the darkness, walking away from everything going on without so much as a goodbye.
And I don't look back. Not even once.