Mutual Hatred - Love Game (33 page)

BOOK: Mutual Hatred - Love Game
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Another smile he couldn't quite decipher. "I have my connections."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your little group that's trying to get me and Shelley together, is it?"

Morgan feigned shock, clearly taken aback. "You know about Team BS? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Let's just say…I need your help too, so it wasn't like I was going to complain."

"Oh?" Morgan said innocently. "And how can Team BS be of assistance to you?"

"Promise not to tell a soul?" Brandon asked his sister earnestly.

She nodded, thankful he couldn't see her crossing her fingers behind her back.

"I've sort of gotten myself into a predicament," said Brandon in a hushed tone, "And I'm pretty sure there's no other way out. So the only way to win is to trample Chelsey."

"Chelsey Smith?" Morgan wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Please don't tell me you're involved with her."

"Oh, never," Brandon assured her. "I can't tell you the whole story, but it involves getting Shelley to fall in love with me."

Morgan backed away. "Oh, no. No! That is
not
what Team BS is here for. We're supposed to help you guys fall in love for real, not for some stupid revenge."

"How did you know it was for revenge?"

"Instinct. So do you like her or not?"

"Chelsey? She's absolutely repulsive."

Morgan kicked his shins. "Not that tramp."

"Shelley?" It may just have been Morgan's sleep deprived brain playing with her, but Brandon's eyes took on a glazed look. "Yeah, funnily enough, I think I kind of do."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Shall we count the ways?" Brandon sighed heavily. "One, Shelley's fairly annoyed with me right now as you witnessed. Two, Chelsey wants me to break Shell's heart by Christmas, after getting her to fall in love with me. And three, I feel like an asshole."

Morgan bit back her laughter. Having your twin admit that he was being a jerk was a pretty big milestone; it was something she'd been trying to get him to realize for years.

His sister's silence was making him nervous. "What, did I do something wrong?"

"Sorry brother dear," said Morgan apologetically, patting his arm lightly, "But you're on your own here. You got yourself into this mess, you're gonna have to get yourself out."

"What?" he protested. "What about Team BS?"

"We can only help you when feelings get real," she admonished. "Don't call us, we'll call you."

And for the second time that day, Brandon was left alone to think about his feelings. He felt like a fucking pussy; what real man thought about his
feelings
?

And what the fuck did the BS in Team BS stand for, anyways?

- - - - -

As if by miracle, the Wilson High School football team won their second CIF playoff game.

It had to be a sign. Shelley could practically see them win the finals. But she didn't want to get her hopes up or jinx the team.

There was something in the air. Everyone felt it-the team, even their schoolmates. It was like everything they had worked for all summer and this year was finally going to pay off.

That trophy was meant for them; it had to be. Why else would they have gotten so far if they were only going to lose their next game?

This was their last chance to make Mr. Wise proud; a chance to make Shelley proud-the girl who had always believed when no one else did; and lastly, to bring glory back to Wilson.

And by god, they were determined to do it.

You know what they say. There's no use trying to stop an unstoppable force. Because, hello, it's unstoppable.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't a saying. But if they won, they'd make sure everyone knew it. And they wouldn't be forgotten for years to come.

And if they lost, well....better not think about that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26 – When You Believe

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Shelley's mind was racing. Her thoughts were scattered everywhere and everyone seemed to be talking to her at once. For the first time in a long time, Shelley Sinclair was stressed out (over a football game, no less).

She just wanted to be alone.

But that was fairly impossible. It was the last football game Wilson High School would ever play with Shelley as their coach. It was somewhat the game of the century, and everything was riding on this night. She'd been under pressure before, but now it was different. It would determine whether Shelley would be remembered either as the coach who had gone all the way or ended up short. Despite Shelley's determination to win tonight, she couldn't ignore the little voice in the back of her mind reminding her that while Wilson was good, their opponent Parkridge High was even better-and this was their third consecutive year in the finals.

There were forty-five minutes left until the game would begin. It was pure pandemonium in the stands: a few of the athletic non-football-playing guys had taken their shirts off and painted Brandon's name (and other players' names too) across their chests, girls had made shirts and posters. The cheerleaders were already working overtime, and for a fleeting moment, Shelley wished she could be cheering on the sidelines rather than being part of the action. But the moment passed quickly and she was grateful once again to be coaching. By the looks of it, Wilson had way more supporters than Parkridge did. It didn't even seem like very many people from Parkridge even
cared
about football. Cocky bastards were probably assuming that Wilson had made it to finals by sheer luck, but that wasn't so. In the past three months, Wilson had played their games well and fought their way through CIF playoffs like savages. It was a crude similarity, but it was so very true.

Unable to stand it anymore, Shelley fled her pacing along the sidelines and ended up on the side of the locker rooms. It was still noisy, but it was an improvement. She resumed her pacing there until Brandon's voice cut in.

"You okay?" he asked.

He had never seen her so agitated or nervous before. It was amusing, yet slightly unnerving; was she beginning to lose her faith? If Shelley didn't believe in them, who would?

She stopped pacing and glanced up at him. "What? Me? Oh, no…I'm fine. I mean, once you ignore the fact that we are about to play our final CIF game that pretty much determines our future, then yeah, everything's just peachy. No, I'm not stressed. I don't really care that Parkridge is an amazing team or that they've got the biggest looking players I've ever seen," she said in a rush.

Brandon laughed. "Haha..not stressed. Too bad I don't buy that. You're out of your mind, but that's okay," he said smoothly.

"How can you be so calm at a time like this? I half expected your profanity level to go up!" she wailed.

"Listen, Coach. They think they're good, and they know they're good. But in reality they're not. Parkridge's team is full of seniors that got held back just so they could win CIF three years in a row. But we'll show them, don't worry," Brandon said, doing his best to assure her.

"How can I
not
worry when everything is on the line here? Why did I ever think that we could do this? This is hell! I don't think I can even watch the game. If I can't do that, how am I supposed to coach? This is bad. Really, really, really, really, really bad."

"You're rambling again," said Brandon.

"Will you just shut up and let me think?" she snapped. "Gosh, I can't even hear my thoughts!"

Brandon took her arm and led her back to the bench on the sidelines. He motioned her to sit down as he said, "Sometimes all you need to do is breathe. I swear it works." Brandon sat down next to her. "Just breathe with me. Come on, you can do it," he encouraged. "Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale." He let her practice that for a moment while he surveyed the crowd. "Damn," he muttered. "That's a fucking shitload of people."

"You know what? This actually kind of works!" Shelley said after a moment.

"Just keep doing that whenever you get stressed, okay? You are the last person we need freaking out right now," said Brandon.

"All you care about is winning," Shelley said, punching his arm playfully.

"I like to win," he said proudly. "But don't we all? Well I'm gonna go back in there. You still coming in to give us one of your famous pre-game pep talks?"

"Actually, I didn't even have one planned," Shelley said honestly. "It was, like, the last thing on my mind."

Brandon stood up. "Well," he said with a smile, "I guess you'll just have to wing it, then."

"I guess I will," she murmured as he walked away.

And even though her mind was blank right then, she knew that when the time came, she'd know exactly what to say to her boys.

Thirty minutes and counting.

With a final sigh, Shelley stood up and followed Brandon. The moment she stepped into the locker room, there was silence. All of the boys stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on her.

"Um, I didn't really have a speech or anything prepared," she began, "but you guys should know how I'm going to start-by quoting someone. Well Vince Lombardi said this, 'Individual commitment to a group effort-that is what makes a team work'. And I couldn't be prouder of you guys. You committed to the team. You could have quit, but you didn't. And I know you're not going to quit on me-not now, not ever. But especially not now! I can't even begin to tell you what it means to me that you guys have gotten this far. And while I'd like to say that win or lose, we'll all still love you, let's be real. Win and everyone's going to go wild. Lose and we'll all be pretty bummed. Losing is not an option. Hell, it shouldn't even be in our vocabulary. We busted our asses to get this far, not like Parkridge who has had everything practically handed to them on a silver platter. We have gone too far, with far too much to lose. So let's win this not just for me, Mr. Wise, our parents, or the fans. Win this for yourself, because you most definitely deserve it!"

A collective cheer went up within the team as the guys began to huddle around Shelley.

"Hey!" she cried over the chatter. "Whoever's hand that is on my ass, get it off or you will be very sorry!"

It was promptly removed; by the sheepish smile on his face, it had probably been Brandon. How very typical of him, taking advantage of the close proximity just so he could feel her up.

"Fifteen minutes, you guys. Are you ready?" Shelley tried to be as energetic as she could, but she was starting to get nervous again. "You guys need to play like you've never played before. Anything you've been holding back all season needs to come out tonight. Stay confident and concentrate all your energy on what you need to do. I want to see determination! Perseverance! Sweat! Defense, you need to BE AGGRESSIVE! Oh, and try to have fun," she added.

Just breathe
, she told herself.
Remember what Brandon said. Breathe and everything will be okay.

Fat chance. They still had an entire game ahead of them. It was going to be a long night.

- - - - -

Mr. Wise and the individual coacher led the team onto the field silently to the cheers and calls of their fans. The Parkridge team was already assembled on the other side, their fans jeering at Wilson. Shelley came out last, still trying to convince herself to just breathe. But it didn't seem to be working. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be zooming around at what had to be an unhealthy rate, and she was starting to feel a little queasy. As the cheerleaders were just putting the finishing touches to their pre-game routine, the announcer began to introduce the teams. It
seemed to take forever, but when it was finally time for the game to begin, Shelley thought it had only been a few seconds.

She wasn't ready for this.

But it was too late. Her starters were already grouped around her, waiting for orders. She looked at them with a hint of uncertainty.

"Play like you always do. And then we'll see how it goes," she managed at last.

They looked at her like she was insane.

"I thought we were going to go all out," said James, "weren't we practicing those plays for this game?"

"We're saving that for later," said Shelley. "For now, we play like we always do."

"But I don't understand-"

"Watkins, comprehension is
not
a requisite of cooperation, got it?" Shelley said irritably. "Just trust me on this. Now go!"

She wasn't sure how she got through the first quarter, but she did. Nothing eventful had happened; neither of the teams had scored. Both Wilson and Parkridge were playing very well on defense as well as offense. Perhaps Parkridge was saving their power plays for later in the game too.

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