Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“You look like a princess,” I praise, and Naomi’s little face instantly lights up. I swear I’d burn the world down for that innocent smile.
When I stand up, she rushes over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. My throat closes up, emotions clogging my senses.
Sometimes I wonder why I was given such a cursed, worthless life.
Sometimes I think it’d be so much easier if I ran away.
But Naomi is here.
So I can’t leave this place behind.
We share the same parents and experiences. But the thread that binds us goes beyond our shared blood. It’s her innocent adoration for me and my utter devotion to her that keeps us linked. Our lives are interwoven in the most sacred of ways — the innocent bond of siblings.
The greatest gift our parents gave us is each other.
And as long as she is with me, I’m not lonely.
CHAPTER THREE
Colton — 15 years old (Freshman year)
The cheers of the crowd vibrate through my body, igniting my adrenaline, but my head is not here. My gaze keeps moving to the bleachers, where Cole is sitting in the crowd. I can’t see him from this distance, but I know exactly where he’s sitting. Second row, two seats from the left. I can feel his eyes on me, burning through my football uniform and my helmet.
He should have been here.
On the field, with us — his team.
He was our trusted wide receiver, a savage on the field and probably one of the best. Definitely better than me. I enjoy playing football, but Cole breathes life into this sport.
But he can’t play tonight.
He won’t ever play again.
Not with his limp.
The bones in his right leg shattered in three different places. He took off his cast a month ago, and after some physical therapy, he’s able to walk now. But he has a limp and he’ll never be able to get on the field again.
His football career is over before it could even really begin.
I trip over my own feet and one of Hallows High’s players tackles me to the ground. My head smacks onto it and if it isn’t for my helmet, I’d probably end up with a concussion. I hear a whistle and the opponent moves off me, and even though I can’t see it, I know he’s smirking as he swaggers away. Asshole.
Maddox, our infamous quarterback, jogs over to me, and he slaps me on the back. “Get your head in the game, Colton.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, chewing on my mouthguard.
Sometimes I wonder if Cole wishes it was me. If he is ever angry, or envious, that I get to play football and he has to sit on the bleachers and watch. Does he hate me for it?
But Cole is the good brother, the one with a soft heart. He’d never think that.
Frustration clogs my veins when I miss another chance at a touchdown, the ball ending on the sideline. Fuuuck.
I hear the half-time whistle, and then Coach is summoning the team his way. I swagger over to him, taking my sweet-ass time to join the rest of the team and making me the last one to enter the locker room. I shoulder past Maddox, who’s blocking the entrance with his body. He spears me with a dark, confused look. I know he’s pissed at me, for potentially ruining the game for the team. For him.
Like Cole, football is his life.
The only thing he has going for him. The only thing that truly matters to Maddox Coulter. He doesn’t give a shit about any girl, or the money in his back account, or the fame that comes with being a Coulter. He only cares about football.
My best buddy can’t read my mind, but he knows something is up. If there’s another person who gets me after Cole, it’s Maddox. I guess you could say, we’re the same peas in a pod. We have everything we could ask for — money, chicks, fame. But we bonded over the fact that we both live to piss off our parents. It’s probably the only reason we’re even friends in the first place.
We understand each other.
So, I have his back. And he has mine.
“What is wrong with you, Bennett?” Coach Reagan practically roars in my face when I’m close enough to him.
I rock back and forth on my heels. “I only missed a touchdown, relax. We’re still leading.”
“You missed two touchdowns,” he snarls, his face red and veins bulging in his neck. Oh yeah, he’s pissed. “And you missed three passes. That ball hit you right in the damn chest and you let it drop like a hot potato!”
Jesus Christ, why is he turning this into a huge deal? It’s not like we’re losing the game. Our opponent, Hallow High, is nothing up against our team. We’re going to win our first game, even if I’m fucking up all over the field.