Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Cross scores again, and we’re almost tied, all of us digging in our heels. I breathe hard, wanting this win so badly. I don’t want them to say I came back and they still lost. I’d have swallowed my pride for nothing.
Ang shoots the ball. I catch it, a Cross player on my hide, and I let out a yell, shooting the ball and watching it get past the goalie and into the net.
“Yeah!”
“Woohoo!”
Someone grabs onto my shoulder and about five people hug me. We’re back up two goals, and I glance at the clock, nine minutes left.
I run back to position, looking over at Clay. “That’s okay,” I taunt. “We’re doing fine. Never needed you.”
I smile, turning my eyes away, and resume play, but a minute later, I hear the whistle blow. Coach calls Ruby off the field, and I see Clay putting on her gear.
She heads right for me, brushing my shoulder as she passes. “Teammates doesn’t mean team.”
“Friendly ain’t friends,” I say.
“Just so we’re clear.”
Fuck yeah. We’re clear. Help me score, and you’re useful. Otherwise, you’re not.
We play, the ebb and flow of our game settling back into familiar territory as I look over and see Clay always there when I need her. She anticipates me, and I guess it’s from playing together so long, but I don’t have that dynamic with all the girls. I pass, she catches, she runs, and I cover her.
“Here!” I call.
She doesn’t hesitate. She passes me the ball, and I shoot it to Amy, Clay running ahead, taking the ball back and scoring.
Everyone cheers while the people in the stands boo, and Clay smiles, her friends jumping on her.
I pass her.
“Good job,” she tells me.
I blow spit out, it landing an inch from her shoe.
She looks down and then at me, her smile gone.
“You trashed my house,” I say as everyone moves into position around us. “You desecrated our flag.”
She doesn’t try to defend herself, and I don’t want her to. I’m just reminding her that we’re not a team.
“Liv!” someone yells.
Clay and I turn our heads, seeing Megan next to the coach, her blonde hair spilling out of her baseball cap and a look in her eyes that warns me not to get myself in trouble.
Clay waves at someone, and I follow her gaze, seeing Callum and his friends sitting on the hood of his car on the other side of the chain-link fence in the parking lot. He watches us with that look in his eyes that reminds me of what my lactose intolerance feels like when it kicks in.
“You didn’t feel like he does,” Clay whispers, moving in close as play starts around us. “You didn’t feel powerful.”
He felt powerful? He’s had her? I pause, staring at her. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s fucked him already. I don’t why I thought she hadn’t gone that far. Maybe because Clay Collins is such a priss, she wouldn’t want to get dirty.
She looks at me. “You can’t do to me what he can do.”
“I can do anything he can do,” I grit out. “You want me inside of you?”
I watch her eyes fall to my mouth, a hint of my tongue showing itself.
“You want to ride me?” I offer. “I can do anything you want.”
I can do anything to her a man can do.
“But I will never touch you,” I tell her, casting a glance to the sidelines and Megan. “I like her. She’s so ready.”
Clay’s eyes narrow, a fire lighting inside.
“You’re bland and repressed, boring and bitchy.” I grin. “Good thing is, rich or not, those things can be fixed.”
Her own words thrown back at her from when she wrote on me in Sharpie and the knowledge that I’ll have a good-fucking-time with anyone but her makes her eyes turn red. She growls, shoving me in the chest, and I laugh, fisting her shirt and dragging her down to the grass with me.
We roll, whistles sound, and the crowd goes wild, the showdown they expected by two rival teams taking a twist they didn’t expect.
“Oh, you wanna be on top, huh?” I tease, Clay straddling me.
She screams, more pissed off, and I just laugh, barely noticing all the arms trying to pull us apart.
I YANK MY rubber band out, letting my hair loose as I rub my scalp where she tried to pull my hair.
“Krisjen?” Coach yells. “Amy?”
Both of my friends stand in the hotel room, muddy cleats in hand and their ponytails hanging by a prayer.
I glare at Liv, watching her stand there all calm, relaxed, and bored across the room, like this is all just a waste of her time. Like she barely knows I exist. Bitch.
I fold my arms over my chest, the tension like an electrical current. I’m going to kill her. Thank God my parents decided to not come tonight.