Frayed: A Small Town Sports Romance (Willow Springs Series Book 1) Page 2

  That wasn’t completely true. Karina had talked, and word had gotten back to me, and Alec admitted what he’d done when I confronted him. I always wondered if he would have told me if he hadn’t been caught.

  “Oh my god. I’m having an out-of-body moment of Ross and Rachel and the whole we-were-on-a-break debacle. You all know who I sided with on that one. Girls rule, boys drool. Enough said.” Coco shrugged.

  “Can we please talk about something else? Alec and I are good. Ivy, have you talked to Ty about, er, having sex?” I asked.

  “Yes. I told him I’m thinking about it.”

  Coco groaned. “You’re not supposed to discuss. You don’t need to make a reservation for it, for god’s sake. Maura, you want to pipe in here and tell them it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just sex.”

  Coco had lost her virginity to Beau Bannon our sophomore year. He was a senior and she’d crushed hard on him. They’d dated until he left for college and she’d ended it. She didn’t like attachments aside from us. Her four best friends. She’d had a fling with Chuck Woods last year, but as she liked to say, she didn’t give him the goods because she wasn’t feeling it. He was in college and worked in the valet at the Willow Springs Country Club. But she’d dumped him as well, though not until after she made sure her parents were fuming about her dating a club employee.

  “It is a big deal, Co. They shouldn’t do it until they’re ready,” Maura said.

  Maura and Kyle just had sex for the first time this summer, and she didn’t talk about it much. He’d left for college a few weeks ago, and they’d dated for the past few years, so I think she looked at it as a rite of passage. She hadn’t been all that impressed by it, which made me wonder what the rush was.

  And Gigi didn’t have a boyfriend, so she was still in the virgin camp with me and Ivy.

  “Okay. So, let’s talk about senior year. This needs to be our best year yet. We have to fill the rest of this book with all the crazy things we do. Let’s make a list of goals. Tell me what you want for our last year of high school. I’ll start. I’d like our soccer team to win state this year. We’ve been runners-up the past two years, and it would be nice to go out with a win. Not that anyone cares at East Texas High about anything other than football.” Ivy was a rock star soccer player, but she was right, football stole all the thunder not only at our school, but in this town.

  “That’s a good goal. This is your year,” Coco said, shoving a handful of chips in her mouth and chewing before she spoke again. “As for me, I’d like to see Shaw Bradley naked this year. There. I said it. I have no shame. Have you seen that boy lately? He was out at the lake yesterday, and I nearly came just looking at him.”

  We all cracked up. She was so crude, but I had to give it to her. Shaw was a good-looking kid. If I were looking, which I wasn’t.

  “That boy is gorgeous.” Ivy nodded in agreement. “But have you seen Jett Stone lately? Holy hotness.”

  “He and Jett are too much. But Jett’s just out of everyone’s league. I heard he was banging some college chick. You used to be friends with him, Addy, maybe you can ask him to snag a dick-pic of his bestie in the shower for me. Better yet, ask him to take one of himself too.”

  Again, laughter filled the space around us.

  “Um, that’s not happening. And me and Jett are hardly friends. We just have a history.” I shook my head. No more of a history than everyone else, really. We’d all gone to elementary school together, but Jett and I had been friends when we were young.

  “He calls you by that cute nickname though, and I know it gets under Alec’s skin, which makes me love it even more,” Coco said with one eyebrow raised.

  Ace. He called me Ace the rare times we spoke anymore. We were in the same kindergarten class and we had to say our full names. Apparently, he didn’t have a middle name which I’d found fascinating at the time. When I’d shared mine, Adelaide Charlotte Edington, he’d used my initials to spell out ACE and had called me it ever since. I guess he was a phonetic whiz because he put that together fairly quick. He and I were friendlier up until high school. Jett and Alec didn’t get along very well, so maybe that’s why we’d grown apart. Not that we were ever super close. Alec and Jett were on the football team. Jett was the quarterback and Alec played wide receiver. But they didn’t care for one another, and it was no secret to everyone at school. They were both popular but in completely different groups, and they stayed clear of one another. There were all sorts of rumors that Jett was into underground fighting this summer. Alec thought Jett was a bit of a wild card. They were hoping to win state again this year, and he worried about Jett doing something to mess that up for the team.

  “He calls you Ace, right?” Maura asked.

  “Yeah. My initials. Very original. He probably does it just to bug Alec.”

  “Then Alec probably wouldn’t approve of you asking for some nudes for me then?” Coco laughed.

  “Oh my gosh, what is with you today? You’re worse than usual,” Gigi said as she shook her head.

  “We’re in our prime, girls. This is our year to shake shit up. We’re all going different places next year. So, let’s make it our best year yet.” Coco shoved another handful of chips in her mouth and clapped her hands together, shaking the crumbs all over the table.

  A sharp pang settled in my chest at her words. I couldn’t imagine not seeing them every single day, as I had for most of my life. I was the only one planning to stay here and attend the state college that was only thirty minutes away. Alec would attend there as well. It had been our plan forever. But my friends were all going to leave Willow Springs for school.

  Everything was about to change.

  And that terrified me.

  Chapter Two

  Jett

  “First game tonight, bro. You ready?” Jax asked as we made our way down the hall to our last class of the day.

  “Always ready.” I smirked before giving him a fist-bump as I stopped at the door for AP calculus.

  “That’s what I like to hear, my man. Have fun with all the math nerds. I’ll be in study hall with a slew of hot cheerleaders.”

  I flipped him the bird before walking in to see Mrs. Cunningham writing something on the whiteboard. The class was sparse, as not many kids signed on for AP calculus because for most people it would be a bitch of a class. Numbers were my thing, and I wanted to place high on my SAT in math so I could skip basic math courses when I started college next year.

  I’d heard from a bunch of coaches about being recruited for football, all promising me the world. I’d wait to see how it all played out after this season. I had my mind set on attending Texas University. It was a damn good school, they had a Division I football team, and their accounting program was ranked number one in the country. But seeing as I didn’t have a pot to piss in money-wise, I’d have to go where I got the best offer. My goal was to get a four-year education without incurring a shit ton of debt. I also needed to be close enough to home to see my ma and Gram as often as possible, but I couldn’t wait to be free of this judgy-ass town that I’d grown up in. I’d been counting down the days for a long time, and shit was about to get real.

  Senior year meant that I only had one final season to play for East Texas High before I sailed my ass out of here. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Coach Stephens, my team—well, most of them. Minus a few rich, preppy assholes that I had to spoon-feed the ball to because their wealthy daddies dangled donations over Coach’s head like a fucking dog treat. It pissed me off. My two best friends, Jax and Shaw, were hands down the best running back and receiver we had on our team, but I didn’t get to call the plays, which meant the ball spent a lot of time going to subpar players.

  “First game day, Mr. Stone. Are you ready?” Mrs. Cunningham asked as I dropped in the desk beside Sherman Saxe. He shoved his bifocal, black-rimmed glasses up his nose and I raised my chin in greeting.

>   “Yep. Ready to kick some ass—er, butt.” I laughed, and Mrs. Cunningham rolled her eyes but smiled. Willow Springs lived and breathed football. Hell, since I’d started playing football, the people in this town stopped treating me like I was a fucking loser, which only rubbed me wrong. My mother was a single mom, and she worked her ass off at the diner in town to provide for us. Most of the locals loved her, but the haughty assholes who happened to comprise more than half of this town treated her like shit. And they’d treated me no differently—until I became the quarterback freshman year, and our team went on to win state the last two years. Now they acted like my shit didn’t stink.

  Phony bitches.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We had to get things together for tonight.” Adelaide Edington stormed into the room and nearly knocked her desk over as she took the seat right in front of me. Being two minutes late put the girl on edge. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing.

  I’d known the girl since kindergarten. She gave me half of her PB&J once when I forgot my lunch in third grade. I’d always liked her, but since she started dating her douchebag boyfriend freshman year, I kept my distance. This school was divided by the haves and the have-nots. I was in the latter, minus helping this school bring home a state trophy, I lived on the wrong side of the tracks so to speak.

  Adelaide and her friends were part of the haves. Her girlfriends were fairly cool, considering they were all part of the wealthy club in this town. Rich pricks with sticks up their asses. The girls weren’t bad. But her dick of a boyfriend and I had never gotten along. He’d tried out for QB freshman year, and they turned him into a running back when they started me in the first game. He never got over it. All his expensive football camps, private coaches, and top-of-the-line gear hadn’t done shit to seal a fucking high school QB gig.

  And that was my fault?

  Welcome to the game, asshole. Football was cutthroat, and I was more than aware that the minute I wasn’t producing, all those doors that had been opened to me would slam in my fucking face. So, I’d serve my time. Ride this wave and get myself a top-notch education in the process so that Ma and Gram would never have to struggle again.

  “You’re fine, hon. Pull out your books and get started on lesson seven and I’ll walk around, so just raise your hand if you need assistance. You can work in small groups or on your own.” Mrs. Cunningham was one of the coolest teachers at East Texas, and I’d always liked her.

  I pulled my book out and got to work. The smell of oranges and cinnamon flooded my senses as Adelaide leaned back in her chair. Long, dark waves fell down her back, and she whipped around to face me. I raised a brow. We rarely spoke or acknowledged one another aside from an occasional nod these days, and after being in this class for two weeks, that’s as much as we’d interacted before now.

  “Hey Jett,” she said, and her tongue dipped out to wet her pouty pink lips.

  “Ace.” I tipped my chin at her. Been calling her that since kindergarten.

  “Are you ready for the game?”

  “Always,” I said before glancing down at my book. Pleasantries weren’t really my thing.

  “Um. Would you want to work together on this? I’m really struggling.”

  I looked back up to meet her dark gaze. I shrugged. I wouldn’t have time to finish this shit later as I had a game tonight and a fight after that, so helping Adelaide was not something I had time for. It meant homework over the weekend which I tried to avoid whenever possible.

  But, hell, the girl gave me half her sandwich when I was hungry.

  “Fine. But don’t ask a shit ton of questions. I’ll talk it through while I work,” I grumbled, and she quickly turned her desk around, so it was facing mine.

  “Uh, is there room for three?” Sherman asked and turned his desk to face ours before I even answered.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I said under my breath. I wasn’t a goddamn tutor. Adelaide shot me a look, and I shifted in my seat. “Fine.”

  I looked up to see Sherman gaping at Adelaide. I’d seen him looking at her all starry-eyed every time she walked in the room. I got it. She was hot as hell. Poor bastard would be pining for this girl his whole life while she dated an asshole because her mom was best friends with his mom. What the hell was up with that? Everyone knew their story. This was the twenty-first fucking century. Weren’t we well past arranged marriages being acceptable? It’s like they’d shoved them together since we were kids, and I just didn’t relate to bullshit like that.

  And everyone knew her boyfriend had fucked around on her once, and I suspected more than that. Apparently, they were broken up at the time, but it all played out awfully conveniently for him. He’d banged Karina James, who ran in my circle. The chick had hit on me more times than I could count, but I had no interest in going there. I had little time for girls between football practice and the fights I’d picked up on the side for cash. And I had a no-strings-attached rule. It hadn’t slowed things down for me, as I had plenty of girls that were interested in the same thing as I was. Sex. I was as horny as the next guy, and it turned out there were plenty of girls that wanted the same thing.

  I spent the next hour teaching Adelaide and Sherman about differentiation and integration. The bell rang and I closed my book, thankful to be done. Patience wasn’t my strength and the two of them had fired off endless questions which I had no choice but to answer.

  “How about we exchange numbers?” Sherman asked, shoving his glasses up his nose again. “You know, so we can text one another if we have questions.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to decide how to tell him I was not going to be texted three thousand fucking questions outside of school. Not to mention the fact that his nasally voice was starting to grate on my nerves. I wanted to hand the dude a tissue and insist he blow. Like I was my fucking gram. But the dude was chronically congested and now that he’d become painfully chatty, it was impossible to miss. Adelaide grabbed my phone off the desk before I could reach for it and typed her number in before passing it to Sherman.

  She smirked at me and handed me her phone. “That’s a great idea.”

  “Thanks, Addy,” he said.

  Thanks, Addy? Was she going to field his endless fucking questions?

  When they were done playing hot potato with my phone, I slipped it into my back pocket. “Don’t be blowing up my phone, Sherman.”

  He nodded. “I’ll limit my questions in the after-hours.”

  Adelaide laughed, and I shook my head as we walked toward the door. “See you at the game, Jett.”

  Her dickhead boyfriend was waiting outside the door for her. Controlling little fucker.

  I walked right past him without a second glance.

  We were playing the most competitive team in our conference tonight. Talk about coming out the gate hot. It was the first game, and the pressure was on. Everyone in town came out to see us play, and they expected a win. At halftime, we were down by a touchdown and I was pissed. Coach kept insisting I pass the ball to Charlie or throw it to Alec. He chewed us out in the locker room for getting our asses kicked on our home turf. He was right. We needed to get it in gear.

  “We’ve got to move the ball down the field, boys. Come on. Get your heads out of your asses. Jett’s putting the ball in your hands, and you’re dropping it. We don’t win football games that way. You’re defending state champs—start acting like it.”

  We made our way back out to the field and Coach called out for me to hang back with him. “Let’s give the ball to Shaw and Jax. Change it up.”

  Fuck yeah.

  Time to score some touchdowns.

  “You got it, Coach.”

  The crowd went crazy when we ran back out on the field, and I tuned out all the noise. Just before halftime, Alec’s father had been shouting at his son from the sidelines about dropping the ball. I actually felt bad for the asshole. It was easy
to stand on the sidelines and berate your kid when you didn’t have a dude twice your size trying to take you down. Not that I was making excuses for him dropping the ball. I wasn’t. But his father was out of line.

  We huddled together, and I called the play.

  “Let’s get it fucking done,” Shaw shouted. The ball was going to him, and I had no doubt he’d make sure he was open when I spiraled it down the field to him. Recruiters would be attending every game this season, and for a lot of us, this was our opportunity to go to college.

  Every game mattered.

  Every play mattered.

  The next two quarters went by in a blur. We’d scored twice, and Shadow Hills had scored once, so the game had been tied for about two minutes. We’d held them off on their last attempt, but they’d just made their way down the field and kicked a field goal, giving them a three-point lead once again. With one minute left on the clock, I needed to move this ball down the field. We could try to get in field goal range to tie it up or go for the touchdown and win it. I passed the ball to Jax, the kid was an unstoppable force, as he plowed his way down the field. Shaw finished it up by catching a thirty-yard pass to bring us in striking distance to score.

  Coach Stephens called a timeout and yelled for me to meet him on the sidelines. Alec’s dad was bitching out Coach when I jogged over, and I rolled my eyes. The dude had no clue what he was talking about. He’d played for East Texas in high school back in his day and was reliving his glory years through his son.

  Coach waved him off and pulled me in. “Let’s go for it. Give the ball to Alec.”

  “Coach. The dude has dropped the ball twice after I put it in his hands. Come on.”

  He nodded and glanced over his shoulders at a fuming Mr. Taulson. “Call the play to Alec. If he isn’t open, get it to Shaw.”

  “Done.”

  I jogged out and we huddled up. I called the play and Alec smirked. Cocky bastard. If the dude wasn’t open, it wasn’t going to him. I shot a look at Shaw, and he nodded. He knew my plan. Alec would get first dibs because he was a punk ass bitch, and that’s the way things worked around here. But if he wasn’t open, the ball wasn’t going to him.