Chapter 5

Reid

"That's enough, captain!"

Coach Harry yelled. Smacked the big glass table.

I drove the last punch into Clark's jaw.

I watched him roll off the floor and get up.

My chest heaving.

I wasn't done beating him. But I could let it slide. Because of Coach.

My eyes dug into his annoying pair of prying green eyes.

"It was one bad game, not the championship," Coach said.

His voice still pitched high. His look stern.

I pulled off my jersey. My hair clung to my face from sweat.

"One bad game?" I scoffed.

"It's becoming repetitive. I am the captain here. If anything goes wrong, I get blamed. I get talked down."

I retorted. Fist still tightened. Body trembling from stored anger.

"Is that how you speak to your coach? Guess you need some benching."

The assistant coach, Mason—Clark's father—chimed in.

"Guess you need some professional training," I answered back.

"Hey, boy—"

"I could put in good words. Scratch your ass off the team."

I threatened. Towering over him for a fight.

Coach got in the way.

I looked over his clean-shaved head. To his son. The teammates siding with him.

"Just remember, when the loss starts piling, it isn't only my career that will be affected."

I said it calmly. Picked my trainer bag. Left to get changed.

"Reid, you have to stop fighting that boy."

Coach Harry trailed behind me outside.

I stopped.

Turned.

Brows knitted.

"You know what they are doing. Not like Mason likes you anyways."

I confessed. Shoulders loosened.

"It's them playing politics. It's you now."

He said calmly. Hands landing firmly on my shoulders.

A smile crossed his lips.

"You should play smart."

I took a deep breath.

Exhaled.

"He called me a psycho. He made a caricature of our chance to win today."

I said it like it didn't matter. Like the word didn't burn.

But it did.

Coach just smiled.

"All that, I saw it. But you have to continue with your psychology sessions."

"With Zoey? I better go to hell."

I hissed.

Frown masking my lip.

"She was unprofessional, but you can't stop otherwise. Your medical report will have you out of the team."

"Guess I'm already out. She blew the truth to Clark. She told him about my life."

I stopped. Looked into Coach's eyes.

"She told him my mind is messed up. How dare she breathe a word of confidentiality?"

I blew angrily. Brows tightened. Eyes raking the bricks.

My fist curled.

Lips vibrating.

I should go back and punch the truth out of Clark's head.

"He's one with dubious brains. He played the love trick on her. She fell for it."

"And I am losing everything."

I answered sharply.

Coach went quiet. Fingers running through his white hair.

Then his eyes met mine.

"If you're leaving her, you should get a replacement psychologist. You can't go around beating everyone up!"

He said it with a short, forced smile.

I nodded respectfully. Walked out briskly.

His words rang in my head.

He wasn't wrong.

*

At the Cafeteria

I crushed the first can of beer I'd just emptied. Dumped it on the tray.

My eyes darted anxiously on the glass door.

Then they landed on her.

Hoodie and jeans. Her eyes widely searching for me.

My entire body jolted.

Black wavy curls. Petite body hidden by that big hoodie.

A smirk crossed my lips.

I sent her the message.

*

What?

I watched her face contort. Her brows kinked when I said she sent the message to my biggest rival.

"Okay, so what do we do?" She asked hastily.

The silence in the cafeteria was totally awkward.

Then Clark Mason walked in. The goalie. Two defense men. All turned my foes.

"Come, sit down," I said calmly.

My eyes still on Clark. He wouldn't look away either.

The slow whispers began. Comfortable in a way.

My eyes landed on Chelsey. She froze.

I could hear her heart racing. Clark's gaze was devilishly on her.

I got up. My hands touched her shoulder and she trembled.

"Sit down."

I scraped out a chair. The one that made her face me directly.

Then I gave Clark one dense glare before taking my seat back.

"I—I have to leave here!" She stuttered. Fingers trembling.

"I brought your diary. I'm giving it to you."

I said it to calm her.

Her black eyeballs met mine. Beautiful as always.

"Why did you take it in the first place?" She snapped.

"Just wanted the agreement to stand. You couldn't wait to threaten me with it."

She shut her eyes. Took a calm breath.

"I'm sorry. But I just needed my diary."

"Chels… hi."

Clark's voice slithered between us.

I watched her face go pale. She'd never liked him. And he knew it.

His hand landed on her shoulder. Possessively.

My fist tightened under the table.

This wasn't over.