Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He scoffed, or laughed, maybe both as he shook his head. Then, a sneer found his stupid face. It was like he went from pissed off to amused in the span of two seconds.
“Hey, don’t be jealous, Cap,” he said, standing and crossing the room. He threw his arm around me.
Julep only blinked, all coherence gone, and I kept my eyes on her as Kyle leaned in close where only I could hear him.
“I told you I’d have her in my bed by the end of the season,” he said.
It was a joke. I knew it was a joke, just something he said to rile me up and push my buttons. The problem was that it worked.
And he pushed the wrong fucking button.
I blacked out.
There was no other explanation.
Rage hit me so hard it took my vision and hearing and all good sense with it.
Control didn’t exist in that moment, no reassuring, calm voice to tell me how to rationally handle the situation. All I knew was that Julep wasn’t okay, that she hadn’t been for some time now, and that she’d gotten too drunk, too messed up tonight. This wasn’t just someone not knowing their limit and getting fucked up. This was someone who knew their limit and sped past it, anyway.
It was a desperate cry for help — one that Kyle was taking advantage of.
I felt my body moving, my fist connecting, my knuckles aching in pain, but I saw nothing but red.
Distantly, I heard Julep scream.
When I came to, I had Kyle pinned on the ground. His nose was bloody, eyes already bruising, and my fist was suspended by my face and ready to land another blow.
But I restrained, willing my breathing to calm as I kept that hand frozen in place.
“Jesus, Holden! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kyle kicked me off him, scrambling to his feet and running to the mirror. He cursed when he saw himself. “I think you broke my fucking nose.”
“I’ll break more if you say anything like that about her ever again.”
He spit out blood, shaking his head as his eyes found mine. “If you think Coach won’t hear about this, then you don’t know me.”
“If you go running to Coach with problems you have with me, then you’ll prove I know exactly who you are.”
That quieted him, and he stormed toward me like he was ready to duke it out. I braced, but he stopped right in front of me, looking me up and down like I disgusted him.
“She’s not worth it,” he spat, shaking his head. “And neither are you, you washed up sonofabitch. We were better off with Russo.”
With that last dig, he brushed past me, knocking my chest hard with his shoulder. I rolled my eyes once he was gone, the anger I’d held turning into annoyance. I didn’t give a fuck what he said about me. That was just who he was. And by Saturday, he’d be acting like nothing happened at all.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was Julep.
“Oh, God, Holden,” she said, covering her mouth, her eyes shining. “I’m so sorry.”
Then, before she could cry, she vomited.
Julep
I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst headache of my life.
I was in Holden’s bed.
At first, I panicked, heart thundering faster and faster as I tried to make out what time it was, to make out where I was. Everything was foggy and in slow motion, like being in a dream. But when the familiar scent of him washed over me, when I realized it was his NBU football t-shirt I wore and his pillow I had drooled on, I calmed a bit.
Then, I remembered.
And I panicked all over again.
I remembered waking up on what would have been my little sister’s twenty-first birthday, remembered putting a candle in one of the muffins I’d made the day before and singing a sad version of happy birthday before I blew it out and cried.
I remembered ditching my exam and calling in to work.
Calling in to life.
I remembered crawling into bed and staying there, ignoring every text and call that came through from Holden. I laid there all day, letting my memory torture me, almost savoring every minute that I reminded myself what a piece of scum I was.
And then, at some point, I started drinking.
Mary was at work. Dad had flown Mom in and, though he’d invited me to dinner with them, I knew he didn’t really mean it.
I knew she didn’t want me there — especially not today.
So, I stayed home, and I drank half a bottle of wine and stared at the texts from Holden. I was still staring at the phone when his text about the party came through.
After that, I drank another bottle and a half.
And when I got to the Pit, some kid had offered me a Xanax.