Slowly, I turn back, hiding my smirk as Trent swallows his laughter.

In the same second, an uglier different shade of blond catches my eye from the opposite end of the bench.

Alex studies me and my muscles lock, but I make sure he’s the first to break contact.

Always fucking watching so he can decide what moves he wants to mirror.

Little punk.

I don’t speak the rest of the pep rally, and after it I plug in my earbuds and ignore the world until it’s time to meet in the locker room to dress for tonight’s game.

My peace is short-lived when we start getting into gear and Alex calls me out, like a brave little fucker.

“So what’s up, Nico, you and Josie on or off this week?”

“Here we fuckin’ go.” Our boy Thompson shakes his head, dropping on the bench beside me to tie his cleats.

“You mean you don’t know, Hammons?” I don’t bother looking at him, but keep tying my game pants. “Thought you rode my jock harder than that.”

“Too busy getting mine ridden by the girls you couldn’t keep satisfied.”

I scoff, pulling my sleeve up and over my bicep. “Tell me, you like what I like, golden boy, or is sticking your dick where I do the only way you can get off?”

I hear him coming and quickly spin, but Trent’s already between us before we can touch each other, Thompson on the other side.

A few of our other teammates stand to block the way Coach’ll be coming from just in case.

“Watch your mouth, Sykes, or you’ll regret it,” he forces past clenched teeth.

“You gonna run home, tell daddy?” I spread my arms out.

Try me, motherfucker.

His nostrils flare with rage as he pushes against Trent’s chest, but Trent nudges him back.

Alex nods, backing up and yanking his shoulder pads over his head, glaring at me as he buckles them, so I pick mine up, slipping them on, too.

“You know, I think I’ll shift my energy for a little while,” Alex draws out slowly, looking over his shoulder at me, his spiteful tone causing my neck to stiffen. “Maybe put it into someone new.”

My eyes thin and in my peripheral, I spot Trent’s head snap toward me.

The air in my throat begins to burn.

“Demi’s lookin’ good this year,” he edges as he tries to read me, to see if I give a fuck about my new little partner. “Think I’ll ask her to formal, bet she’d be a lot of fun after.”

This motherfucker.

He thinks he can bait me and expects I’ll bite? I don’t fucking think so.

I take slow steps toward Alex who stands tall.

Trent follows but lets me get close this time.

My expression must be a little wild, because the smirk on Hammons’ face grows, but slips just as quick when a snide chuckle leaves me.

“You slippin’, Hammons?” My lip curls a bit as my glare deepens.

“Nic,” Trent warns.

I hold out a hand, not taking my eyes off Alex. I move closer.

“What makes you think I give a fuck about that girl?”

His mask slips completely, his eyes flying between mine in search of truth.

“Why don’t you try worrying about catching a fucking ball instead of how to shove yours inside some worthless chick, and maybe you’d get a chance to receive one more.”

“Fuck you,” he seethes, his anger coming back. “If you weren’t sucking the quarterback’s dick at night, I’d get the ball way more than you.”

Trent tries to bound forward when he’s brought into it, but someone grips his shoulder.

“There you go,” I mock, his lame ass attempt to offend not fazing me. He’s as weak as his words. “Refocus, motherfucker, put more of that energy into your own game instead of tryin’ to copy mine, bitch, it’ll do you some good.”

His fist flies, catching me in the cheek, and I laugh, falling back a step only to dart in and punch him just beneath his left eye, but that’s as far as it gets before everyone is shouting and pulling us apart.

Not before I spit in his face though.

Piece of shit.

There’s a turnover on downs, and the starting offense takes the field once again.

Wait, where’s...

“Has Alex even gone in yet?” I squint, spotting him on the sideline, his helmet in his hands.

“I don’t think so.” Carley offers me a licorice. “Maybe he’s injured?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He didn’t mention it, not that that means anything.

“Dude, Demi.” She laughs, leaning back on the bleacher behind her. “Check out your lab boy.”

I scoff.

As if anyone could miss him and his neon sleeve and gloves.

If you didn’t know by word of mouth, you had no question after any single game Nico is the star player – a starting receiver and the go-to man for Trent.

I swear, even at the away games the announcers love him.

He’s metal and the ball is his flying magnet, no matter where Trent puts the pass, everyone knows Nico will be there to catch it.

Too bad his attitude sucks.

The second the ball is snapped my phone rings, my mom’s name flashing across the screen.

“Ignore her,” Carley says.

“She’ll only keep calling.”

I answer, not getting a word in before she starts yelling.

“Where are you?”

I frown. “I’m at the game.”

Her annoyed exhale isn’t missed. “I need to come and get your card, I have a trip out of town with the girls and I need to make sure I have extra, just in case.”

I turn away from Carley, lowering my voice. “I have Krista’s party this weekend, I need it.”

“I’ll bring you the cash I have, and Demi, don’t mention this to your dad. He’ll deduct it from my spending again.”

As he should.

“Whatever,” I mumble. “Call me when you get here.”

“No, come out into the parking lot now, so I don’t have to wait around for you later.”

“Are you already on your way?”

“Yes, yes,” she huffs. “I’m on my way.”

The line goes dead.

With a sigh, I stuff my phone back in my pocket and let Carley know I’ll be back in a few minutes.

As I should have expected, a few turns into more, and before I know it, the scoreboard sounds, indicating the end of the fourth quarter, and still, my mom isn’t here.

I try calling her for the third time, but she doesn’t answer, so I text her.

Of course, she responds to that instantly.

Mom: sorry, be there in five.

I scoff, shoving it in my pocket.

It’s not long before Carley steps out the gate, followed by a crowd of other game goers. “She’s still not here?” she snaps.

“Says she’ll be here in five.”

She shakes her head. “Tell her I’ll take you home right now to meet her, she’s probably still there.”

“It’s fine.” I pass on the offer. “She’ll just get stressed out and act like an asshole.”

Macy and Krista are out the gate in the next second, their bags slung over their shoulders.

“Hey!” Krista smiles. “You guys ready to go?”