Resist Me

Chapter 4

West

This was everything I’d been waiting for. It wouldn’t necessarily define my future, but if I screwed it up, it wouldn’t look good for me. I could imagine the disappointment on everyone’s faces. Worse, the gloating expressions from the other team.

I hated to lose. Kai had this whole ‘let the losses go’ ritual he did, but it didn’t work for me. Even though I knew that I wasn’t the only one who contributed to our success, I felt the pressure. If someone else messed up, I’d still try to figure out what I could have done better, but if I was the one who screwed up, I’d agonize about it all night. Multiple nights. Weeks. Forever.

As I got into position, time slowed down. I took measured breaths, trying to rid myself of all sound except the other players. Sometimes, I wished there were golf rules during a game. If the clock was counting down, everybody should be required to shut the hell up.

I turned my head, scanning the sideline quickly. Coach looked stressed out. I wondered if he thought I was going to screw it all up. Lincoln was beside him with his arms crossed over his chest. He was staring directly at me and when he saw me looking back, he smirked. Why did he smirk?

The ball was barely in my hands for a second when someone slammed into me. I’d taken some hits in my day, but that one hurt like a bitch. Refusing to show any weakness, I bounced back, even though my hip hurt and I felt a little disoriented. It only took a few seconds for my head to clear.

Round two: fight.

This team was ruthless from what I’d heard. Their defense was top notch, apparently. Lincoln emphasized that it was something to be prepared for and our plays were supposed to work, but after we failed to get ten yards, I had to second guess everything we were doing.

“What is going on out there?” coach roared when we convened on the sideline.

“Ask Davis,” I replied, gesturing angrily toward the lineman. “He never has trouble protecting Porter.”

“You need to move faster.”

I blinked when I realized coach was talking to me. “I’m on my shit.”

“Just turn this around. If you can’t even get us ten yards, I wouldn’t call it a very good first year.”

“I can move faster on a sprained ankle,” Lincoln noted. He still had that damn smirk on his face.

My temper flared, turning my ears hot. I glared at the black hoop on the side of his nose, wondering if tearing it out would make him scream. When my fists balled at my sides, someone gently grabbed my wrist. I knew it was Kai trying to calm me down, which was the only reason I didn’t throw an elbow backward.

“Maybe you should give it a shot, then,” I suggested.

Lincoln raised a brow and let his gaze sweep over me, up and down. “You’ve been begging for a chance to run the game all season. All it takes for you to scamper off with your tail between your legs is some criticism?”

“Put Lee in for Davis and I’ll get your ten fucking yards. More.”

Coach considered it, then shook his head. “Lee will play the third quarter if you two can’t work your shit out together. But listen to me, Densmore.” He took a step closer, leveling me with a stern expression. “Davis gets the most field time and that’s not likely to change next season. If you work with him as poorly as you have with Lincoln, there’ll be more than just criticism.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from snapping at him. With a curt nod, I stepped back and listened to what he said to the whole team.

“He’s wrong for that,” Kai murmured close to my ear.

“I know.”

“He respects Lincoln. Favors him. Next season, you need to get on coach’s good side so he listens to you.”

“Davis is screwing up,” I muttered.

“You’re not wrong. There’s nothing you can do about it right now, though. Just go out and put everything you have on that field.”

“If my lineman isn’t doing his job…”

“Come on, West.” Kai gave me a mischievous smile. “Pretend it’s me out there, waiting for you to throw it to me. You’ll find a way.”

With a sigh, I nodded. He patted my cheek hard before he dropped onto the bench. I looked up at the stands and found Sen with Brooks and some blonde guy I didn’t know, but he was vaguely familiar. The former was wearing a jersey that matched Kai’s, the number 43 visible even from this distance. Just a few weeks ago, their relationship was private, only the four of us aware of it. Seeing him out there, proudly sporting his boyfriend’s number, made my chest constrict with some heavy emotion.

Sen was exactly what my best friend deserved. Kai could be a dick but with those he loved, he was the kindest, warmest person you’d ever meet. I used to think that about his dad and while that hadn’t changed at all, I saw Kai growing into a man just like him. It was a beautiful evolution to witness.

With my pride in watching him flourish under his father’s influence, I felt fear. Not for him but for myself. For nearly ten years, I’d fought with everything I had to avoid turning into my own dad. Was it inevitable? Negative influences were arguably more powerful than positive ones. I could put in the work, but where did nature and nurture stop bleeding into one another? If something could break my dad, a man who I’d once looked up to as an idol, who’s to say it wouldn’t just take one fucked up thing in my life to turn me into him?

As I readied myself, I tried to push it out of my head. It wasn’t important right now. All I needed to do was make sure we won .

Once the ball was in my hand, I thrust everything from my mind except my wide receiver and the brutish bastard who had been taking me down the whole first quarter. I imagined steam coming out of his helmet while he breathed like a raging bull. And did I want to get my shit rocked by a bull? Not a chance.

But I did. And it hurt. The ball, though, was already soaring through the air, so the hit didn’t mean much.

I rolled to my knees, then got to my feet. We’d gained twenty yards, which was good enough for me. Turning toward the sideline, I raised my middle finger at Lincoln but didn’t look at him to see his reaction.

My body had already taken a beating tonight, but I was gonna work through it. I needed the rush of adrenaline that came from winning a game. Not just any game. It was the last of the season. Harmon would go out with a bang and it’d be me that got us there.

“Come on,” I muttered as I waited for the ball to be in my hands.

As quick as a whistle, I threw it to Matt. He didn’t make it very far, but I’d take it. I got close to the bull’s face, driven by the thrill of outmaneuvering him. When he shoved my shoulder, I gritted my teeth so that I wouldn’t push him back.

“Don’t celebrate so soon, Densmore.”

I narrowed my eyes, but before I could respond, someone called my name. His statement unnerved me, although I couldn’t say why exactly. It felt personal and since I’d never met the guy, it didn’t make sense.

Barely leading in points, the clock neared its mark. My body ached and I felt a little desperate to reach half time. I needed a breather.

I let out a whoop when the ball left my hands, but it was cut short by a force colliding with my side, knocking me to the ground. A sound of pain left my lips before I could try to stifle it. Curling at the waist, I clutched at my ribs. For a second, I thought that I couldn’t breathe. When I finally managed to pull in oxygen, it just intensified the pain.

“West!” Kai shouted. He dropped down beside me, his eyes frantic.

“I’m fine,” I croaked .

“You’re not fine. What the hell was that?” He gestured at the raging bull, then made an angry sound. “He kept going after you let go of the ball.”

With a groan, I sat up. It was not ideal, but I didn’t want him to know how bad it was. I still had two quarters to go. Half time would give me enough of a break to recover from it. Maybe I could find something to wrap my torso with. Bubble wrap sounded like a good idea right now.

If something was broken, I was sure I’d know. I took Kai’s offered hand and let him use his god-like strength to pull me up. It made everything worse. Still, I kept my face carefully blank. My automatic reaction was to hold onto my ribs, but I thought it’d give me away, so I acted casual.

“You good, Densmore?” coach asked. There was worry in his eyes, but I was sure it was also annoyance. If I couldn’t play, he’d have to find someone else. Kai, maybe. He was decent in the position because of all the time we’d played together.

“Peachy.”

“Good. Let’s get to the locker room. If we keep this up, we might be able to bury these fuckers.”

I walked slower than the rest of them, acting like I was just tired. It took a lot of energy not to make a sound. Kai glanced at me warily a few times, but I just offered him a smile.

While coach talked to us, I said obligatory words in return. It was hard to focus on much through the throb in my side. It wasn’t lost on me that not too long ago, I yelled at Kai for refusing to get checked out after he got hit. Do as I say, not as I do, right?

“Hydrate. Five minutes and we’re back on the field,” coach announced before he pulled out his phone and ignored us.

I tried to drink water, but it hurt to lift the bottle. An involuntary hiss escaped me, which drew Kai’s attention.

“Let me see,” he said, grabbing the bottom of my jersey to pull it up.

I shrugged him off and got to my feet. “Just gonna take a leak.”

It was clear that he was frustrated with me, but I ignored it. This was the last game. I could manage the second half, even if it put me in a coma for the next week .

After making sure that nobody else was around, I stood in front of the sinks and lifted my shirt. The area was red, but it was still early. Tomorrow, my skin would probably be purple. Carefully, I touched my ribs and immediately grabbed the edge of the sink.

“Shit,” I muttered.

That hit was uncalled for and I might’ve said something about how bad this was if I knew they wouldn’t pull me from the second half.

“Whoa. You went down hard.”

Dropping my shirt, I glanced briefly at Lincoln. He leaned casually against one of the sinks, studying me.

“It’s not bad.”

He came closer. “Let me see.”

“No.”

When I tried to move past him, he grabbed onto my arm. “Don’t be a dumbass. Pride is only going to get you hurt more.”

I yanked my arm free. “I have a game to win. Worry about your little sprained ankle.”

After I drank some more water and took a few minutes to breathe, I picked up my helmet. Just before I reached the door, coach stepped through. His eyes locked on me, traveled to my side, then came back to my face.

“Lincoln said you’re injured.”

“Lincoln is a pussy and doesn’t know how to mind his business,” I snapped.

“Can you play or not? Don’t lie to me.”

“I can play.”

“Alright. Let’s get out there.”

With a nod, I left the locker room. I passed Lincoln on the way and didn’t bother to conceal my disdain. He tried to take me out of the game. I knew that he didn’t give a shit about me, so it just pissed me off more.

“You’re just gonna make it worse,” he said, coming to walk at my side.

“Suck my dick, Linc.”

“You’re not my type.”

“Apparently, baby-faced guys at coffee shops aren’t either. Maybe you’re just too picky.”

“Nah. He bored me and was too timid. ”

“And me?”

“What?”

I stopped and turned to face him. “You said I’m not your type.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up. “You want to know why you’re not my type?”

“Yeah. I think you’re lying to yourself. I’m everybody’s type.”

“That’s why. You’re arrogant and insecure. If someone who looks like you lacks self-confidence, you must be really fucking damaged, and I learned a long time ago that people aren’t worth fixing. People like you are leeches, always needing more until you leave the other person dry and barely clinging to life. That’s why you’re not my type, West.”

I’d rather he told me that I was ugly or something. I wasn’t, but damn.

“Sounds like you’ve paid a lot of attention to me,” I noted. “You have me all figured out.”

With a wink, I started walking again. He was so confident that he knew me. Some details may be true, but he’d only scratched the surface. I wasn’t some leech who sucked the life out of things. In fact, the opposite was true. Life had been draining me for a long damn time, stealing from me and trying to break me.

It’s your fault, Weston. Why didn’t you know what was going on?

Why the fuck didn’t he? But no, it was my fault. Always mine. And he got to sink into his own delusional world where he could try to justify what he’d turned into.

I wondered how my dad would react when Willow told him she was moving. It made sense that she was waiting. To put it simply, he wouldn’t be happy. I was just waiting for the day he called me, ready to beat me down with his words since his fists couldn’t reach me anymore.

That was all I needed to get my head back in the game. It was my motivation to succeed, and some bruised ribs weren’t going to stop me.