Chasing Football Dreams (Diner Girl #2)

Chapter Fifteen

T he hospital cleared me, I only suffered an ugly bump to the head. There were no signs of having a concussion and I was released. I couldn’t fall asleep after we arrived at Duncan’s home. The suppressed memories of my childhood kept my mind awake. I wasn’t sure if I put faces to the people who I’d come to believe were my parents. Everything was getting too much for me to handle at this point.

Everyone expected me to mess up this weekend while the little support I have, expected me to win my first championship. I wasn’t sure if I wanted this for me anymore. Maybe I loved not being someone—just be the friendly face who greets you before taking your order and making sure your order is to your needs. Maybe even dropping my tips into a jar with the hopes that it would save me up a trip around the world didn’t sound so bad right now.

Duncan pulled up in front of the gridiron to see that news reporters were blocking the entrance. Andrew, Freddie and Xander came up to the window looking as lost of ambition as I did. “Both entrances are blocked,” Xander said to Duncan.

“I guess they want to see me in full uniform,” I muttered, glancing at the backseat. “That’s what they are going to get,” I climbed over the seats to get to the back to pull on my gear while the boys covered the windows.

I got out, my helmet in hand and paused when I saw Duncan standing in front of me looking worried. We haven’t spoken about what happened to me during the interview and I don’t know if I was ready to talk about the fresh cut of memories that slashed through my brain. I was afraid if I talked about it that I would finally grasp the reality and I don’t know if I was ready for it.

“Let’s go,” I said, slipping on the helmet not waiting for his reply.

He and the guys followed in pursuit. All of them dressed in their gear as we made our way towards the entrance. The boys covered me from all sides as we pushed through the quarrel of mics, cameras flashing and people screaming questions at me.

All I ever wanted was for people just to see my talent but all they saw was an orphan whom was sympathize with.

The rest of the squad waited for us at the field. None of them looked thrilled with what was going on. “I would say that the interview was a goddamn bust,” Wesley grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Who thought that Ian could be such a dirtbag?”

I just shrugged my shoulders not wanting to talk about it. Coach Shane joined us only later on for practice and pushed us to the point that I was sure no one was able to walk. I avoided talking to him or anybody for that matter.

I took a shower longer than needed as I stood there under the spray of water, kind of wishing that it could wash away every bad glimpse.

I shut the taps when I heard voices and got dressed. I was putting my stuff into my bags when Monique walked up to me, and I wished that she would at least just stop for one day.

“How was your live interview, Diner Girl? It seems like the whole world believes you are just the waste of this earth,”

“Monique, can you just stop?” Denise intervened, trying to get her to stand down but she ignored her and came at me.

“What’s your problem?” I growled—my voice harsher than I intended. I barely recognized myself.

“Isn’t it obvious? You are,” Her snarky remark did nothing but anger me.

“What have I ever done to you?”

“You interfered when things were going well,”

By now her whole squad was looking at us trying like me to figure out what her deal was with me. More than half looked at her as if they wanted her to stop.

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t understand her obsession with me.

“You took Duncan from me,” She almost sneered at me.

I looked at her if she was missing her brain or if she was really this delusional. “You lost him before you ever had him,”

Her laugh was anything but friendly. “You are oblivious or just dumb. He was in love with you the moment he saw you. He could barely tear his eyes away from you fast enough for me to see,”

“Wait,” I stared at her. “You hate me because Duncan liked me better?” Even her robots were trying to figure out what was happening.

“How is that fair to me? You don’t even know me! You started picking on me for something I didn’t even do! I minded my own damn business until he came up to me,” I clenched my hands into fists next to my sides, controlling the urge not to punch her.

“You could have ended things when you found out!” She pushed me and I almost lost it.

“He didn’t love you. Get over it. I am not fighting with you over a guy,” I shoved her out of my way, blinking in surprise when her squad opened up before me and let me through.

I exit the locker room, letting out a breath wanting to laugh at how pathetic everything turned out. My life was falling apart, and I was barely hanging on. “Zoey,”

I didn’t realize I was clinging to the wall to keep me up. I saw the worried look on Duncan’s face when he came over to check on me. I jerked away when he tried to touch me. I blamed the adrenaline.

“What's wrong?” Duncan asked baffled.

“Nothing,” I bit back of my temper. I could take a bully. I’ve dealt with them my whole life but having to deal with a psychopathic girl who couldn’t get over a boy who wasn't interested in her wasn’t my call for fun.

"Was it Monique?"

"Just let it go," I grumbled.

"Should I talk to her?"

“To have her blame me again?”

“Blame you for what?”

“What do you think?” He stumbled away from me with a look of bewilderment. “She hates me because of you. She's only doing this crap because you picked me over her,” I walked away, feeling the tears but I didn’t care to let them out.

“Zoey?” I dodged Xander and started to run away as fast as my feet could carry me. I ignored everyone calling out to me and just ran and I didn’t stop until I was standing in front of Zoey Martin’s grave.

I read the inscription on her tombstone—the tears flooded my vision. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I couldn’t pretend that I was fine. People pretended to know what I went through. They were saying my name like they knew my circumstances.

“They say I am you,” I said, looking at her—my tombstone. I blinked, wiping a tear away when a drop landed on my cheek. I looked up noticing that it started to rain.

I dropped my gaze. “I don’t know who I am anymore,”

I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around my shoulders and let out the tears I’d been holding for sixteen years.

“Why? Why me?!” I screamed out, the thunder camouflaging the sound of my voice.

Why was this all happening to me? What have I done to deserve this cruel punishment?

“Zoey,”

I didn’t bother to acknowledge Coach Shane. Nothing could humiliate me anymore. My life has been nothing but cruel.

I heard his footsteps crunching over the grass and held an umbrella over me even though it was too late as I was already soaked.

In my peripheral vision, I watched him place sunflowers down on the grave before I felt him dropping a jacket over my shoulders. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I’ve never been to or seen her grave,” I didn't remove my eyes from the ground.

He nodded. “I’m sorry that the interview turned out that way. I didn’t know he would ask those types of questions,” I wasn’t the only one hurting from the speculation of a sports channel.

“You couldn’t foresee it,” I muttered, wiping away my tears.

He draped an arm over my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of the rain before you get sick,”

I shrugged—my shoulders slumped. “Is it worth it to jog out this weekend when everyone has made their mind up about me?”

“Yes, now come on,” He held his hand out to me.

I was hesitant but I decided to let him pull me to my feet and wrap his arms around me, embracing me with a hug. I let the shock dissipate and clung to him, uncaring if a few more tears escaped my eyes. We stood for a while with me wrapped in Coach Shane’s—my father’s arms with the rain falling around us. I’ve been fighting the rip current so long that his comfort was welcomed with open arms.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, letting go and stepping back to see that he had a few tears in his eyes.

He shook his head. “It’s okay,”

He looked at the tombstone of his daughter and I saw the strain on his face when he looked back at me. This whole situation was making us both suffer with hurt and pain.

“Can it be true? Could you really be my daughter?” He asked.

I couldn't handle seeing the pain in his eyes and decided to be honest with him. “I think I am,”