Sell Out (5 page)

“Up.”

A relieved sigh echoed from the team. It didn’t last long.

Thirty reps later, my hands went numb.

“Down.”

Once again lowered, I sensed the minute Coach crouched down to talk to me. “Has your team had enough,
Captain
?”

“Yes, sir.” My labored reply was quick and desperate.

He stood. “Up. Everyone but Cody head into the locker room.”

I didn’t dare look at my retreating teammates. My arms were rubber, shaking uncontrollably.

The others walked to the building, their footsteps crunching the dry grass.

“Down.” Coach crouched next to me again.

He watched in silence. Judgment and displeasure radiated off him like heat from a Carolina blacktop. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Cody, and I’ve never seen a team abandon their captain like that without so much as a word. If you think your apathy doesn’t reflect in those boys, you’re wrong.”

My pulse shot up like a bullet released from its chamber.
It’s survival, not apathy!

“You got something to say to me, Cody?”

“I never wanted to be captain.” I was too tired to consider that statement’s consequences.

“That may be true, but you are. I don’t care if it takes all year and a million suicide sprints. You’re gonna learn to lead this team. You got me?”

Angry tears burned my eyes. “Yes, Coach.”

“You disappointed me today. You’re better than this.” He stood. “Now get up and get out of my sight.”

I fell to the ground, every inch of my body throbbing and watched my self-respect disappear along with the coach. I grabbed some stray rocks and threw them hard across the track. Sweat dripped down my face and into my mouth. Heavy breaths sent the droplets flying. Fatigue and guilt mixed like bitter drugs I couldn’t stop swallowing. I pulled myself up and made the slow trek toward the building.

Blake, freshly showered, waited for me in the locker room. I stepped past him to my gear and grabbed a towel and soap.

“Don’t take things so seriously. He’s all bark.”

I slammed the door and walked away without a word. I was beginning to wonder if Blake ever wanted captain to begin with. Today felt suspiciously like a set-up.

I
came home
to an empty house. I didn’t like it. Every room felt like it had an echo, as if trying to prepare me for loneliness. I stuffed down the thought. Daddy was probably still at the hospital getting the treatment he needed to live.

I opened the fridge and raided the shelves for something with sugar. Plain yogurt, soymilk and vegetables. Yuck. Aunt Josephine must have shopped again. I slammed the door, grabbed a granola bar and started on my homework at our small kitchen table.

An hour later, the front lock turned and two different voices filled the house. One of them sent the hairs on the back of my neck to attention.

“It’s a long shot at best. You heard the odds. The effect this chemo is going to have on your body—”

“Josie, let it go. Hope is hope, and right now that’s what I’m clinging to.”

They rounded the corner, and I shut my history book.

“Hey, Princess!” My dad broke into a huge smile.

I rushed in and hugged him. “What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing new. How was school? I want to hear all about it.”

I let go, but he kept his arm around me while we walked to the kitchen.

“Hi, Skylar.” Even my aunt’s hello felt like a reprimand. No surprise. Our dislike was mutual.

“Hey.” That’s the best she was going to get. Daddy needed faith right now, not odds.

She turned her attention to my father. “Donnie, I’m going home. I put dinner in the fridge. Just warm it up for forty minutes at three fifty.”

Dad let go of me and hugged his sister. “You’re the best. You know that, right?”

She patted his back and quickly let go like showing that much affection was beneath her. “Let me know if you start to feel…” She sent me a quick glance.

I scowled.

“…uncomfortable. See you tomorrow. Bye, Skylar,” she said on her way out.

My aunt’s patronizing smile made me want to stick my tongue out. I didn’t. Instead I snarled, “Bye,” with all the attitude I could get away with in front of my dad. I knew I was being a brat, but I couldn’t help it. Like a lingering cough, every negative feeling I had about this move accumulated in one place. Her.

Dad’s arm wrapped around me again, and I forgot all about his haughty older sister. “So, school. I need all the details.”

We sat at the table across from each other. “It was all very bizarre. First, it was senior skip day, so none of the seniors were there except this one guy, Henry. My history teacher is nice but a total groupie. She recognized me immediately, but said she wouldn’t tell. No one else seemed to. Principal Rayburn keeps all the grades separated except for combined electives, which is weird, right? Oh, and not one girl talked to me today.” I blew out a breath, so he knew I was finished.

His brow furrowed. “Senior skip day? In September? What kind of school is this?”

“That’s all you got from my summary? Ms. Yarnell recognized me.” My heart fluttered. If any of the seniors did, my dream would disappear before it ever started.

“Sweetheart, you knew that was a possibility.” He reached out and pulled on a lock of my long, red hair. “You don’t exactly blend in.”

“I know. But I thought using Mom’s maiden name would work.” I studied the wood on our table, wishing for the first time my parents weren’t famous. I just wanted one thing to feel stable. One thing that didn’t feel as if I were two seconds from losing it.

My dad lifted my chin. His suck-it-up smirk made me smile. “That’s better. Now, who’s this Henry?”

I laughed at his overprotective dad vibe and told him all about my strange friend at Madison High.

S
mack.
My back
hit the mat with an electrifying pain that resonated all the way to my fingertips. I knew from the sting of the shower I’d gained more than a tan at the lake, but never expected the blistering red that covered my back and shoulders.

“What’s your deal today?” Matt’s irritation came out in a low hiss. “You’re completely off.”

I gingerly pushed to my feet. Even the soft, Dri-Fit material of my shirt scratched like sandpaper. I swallowed and waited for the ache to subside.

Concern replaced the anger on Matt’s face. “Are you hurt? Did something get tweaked in practice?”

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go again.”

Matt eyed me skeptically and then crossed his massive arms. “Lift your sleeve.”

He was too perceptive, too watchful. Begrudgingly, I pushed up the edge of my shirt to reveal the angry crimson already starting to blister.

“Geez, Cody! Why didn’t you say something?” He unstrapped his headpiece, the signal we were finished grappling for the day.

I wanted to argue. I needed this workout. Needed to let out the growing fury in my gut. But contradicting Matt was suicidal.

He guzzled some water while I slowly lifted my arms to take off my own head protection.

“Where’d the burn come from?”

I looked down, kept my eyes locked on the tips of my sneakers. “At the lake yesterday.” I would never lie to Matt; even knowing the truth was going to set him off like a torpedo.

“You didn’t have school yesterday?”

“We skipped.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, enough to send adrenaline pumping through my blood. “We?” His tone was on the edge, like a sharp razor one brush away from slicing a deep trench in my skin.

I summoned the courage to look him in the eye. It wasn’t like I killed someone. Every single senior in the history of time skipped school once or twice. “All the seniors. It’s no big deal, okay?”

A myriad of emotions passed over his face, surprise turned to frustration, which gave way to the anger that I’d seen far too often. “Did you plan this little adventure?”

“No, of course not.”

“So, you just went along with it? Who cares what the fallout means for you and your team?”

I moved in closer. I didn’t know where the fight came from, but I was shaking, ready to go another round that was real this time. “What fallout? We didn’t even miss practice.”

His glare reminded me of a pit bull in full attack mode. “Were you drinking?”

Blood pounded in my ears. He wasn’t my father. Wasn’t even my coach, technically.

“That’s what I thought.” His disappointed tone was worse than the sunburn. “What is wrong with you? You’re special, Cody. Don’t throw all of that away because some punk kids make breaking the law look cool.”

Fury released the last of my control, and all the pent up resentment and anger I’d felt toward Blake and Coach, erupted with a volume that could pierce an eardrum. “What more do you want from me? I’m an eighteen-year-old kid in high school, not someone training for the Olympics. I’m here every morning, busting my butt for you, and then in the gym all afternoon getting screamed at by Coach. What’s it going to take to be good enough for all of you, huh?”

Matt stepped away from me. “So, you’re doing this for me, then? For your coach?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m trying to be the golden boy everyone expects me to be. Trying to live up to this ridiculous expectation you have, when all I want is to get this year over with.” It was the most honest thing I’d said to him all day, and I instantly regretted it. I didn’t have to look into his fiery eyes to know I’d pushed too far. My voice had never been raised against him. Ever.

Matt jumped out of the ring and threw his headgear across the room. It bounced off the wall with a bang that turned every eye our way. “Get out of my gym. And don’t come back until that attitude of yours is fixed. I didn’t spend the last year and a half helping you just so you could turn out like every other stupid kid!”

He stomped down the hallway and shoved open the door to Apocalypse—the room that held a punching bag and ear-splitting rock music where Matt unloaded all his frustration.

I hung my head, the adrenaline draining from my body. I’d forgotten the first rule of survival. Keep your mouth shut.

*

I pulled my
truck into the senior lot and parked behind Chugger’s souped-up jeep. He leaned against the bumper while Jackie, his newest girl, snapped a selfie next to him. The muscles in the back of my neck knotted, and I rolled my head to each side trying to work them out.

Chugger pushed off his jeep when I opened the truck door and said, “Dude, I’m soooo sore.”

“That’s what happens when you slack off all summer.”

He wrapped his arm around Jackie and flashed an indecent grin. “Oh, I was very dedicated this summer…to extracurricular activities.”

I ignored his innuendo. Locker talk I was used to, but not in front of his current girl. “Blake here yet?”

Chugger tilted his chin toward the entry steps. “I’d leave it alone. He’s pissy this morning.”

I readjusted the bag on my shoulder. Crap. “You know why?”

“If his legs feel anything like mine do, all it took was walking.”

Jackie tugged on Chugger’s arm. “You promised you’d give me your opinion on my dress for next weekend, and the magazine is in my locker.”

I seriously doubted she’d even be around next weekend.

Chugger smacked her bottom and hobbled forward. “Duty calls.” He shot one more glance toward Blake’s tense back. “I hope he chills before first period.”

I nodded with trepidation but started toward Blake anyway. No need to put off the grand apology he’d expect for snubbing him in the locker room. Matt dismissed my life as some afterschool special, but he didn’t understand the core of what it took to fit in at Madison.

Lindsay’s blond hair appeared over Blake’s shoulder and then the two of them shifted, allowing me a glimpse of their interaction. Maybe it was instinct, but everything inside said, wrong, wrong, wrong. Her stance was too defensive, his too hostile. My gaze followed the line of his arm. He gripped her bicep, fingers digging deep into her sleeve.

My teeth snapped together, my skin too tight against my aching muscles. I should retreat, stay out of whatever argument they were having. Hadn’t my earlier outburst gotten me into enough trouble? But the fear in her expression pulled me forward.

Lindsay saw me coming first, and her lips moved for the first time. Blake quickly glanced my way and dropped his hand. His shoulders were rigid, irritation plain on his face. My interruption was unwelcome.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and relaxed my stance. “S’up Blake, Lindsay.”

“Hey, Cody.” Lindsay’s shaky voice was barely audible. I studied her face. If angels could be seen, Lindsay would definitely rival them in beauty. Pale blond hair. Big blue eyes. But her typical glow was darkened by sadness, and tears pooled near her lashes.

I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the glare of disapproval coming from Blake. “You goin’ to class? Ms. Yarnell said our group will have extra work if you’re tardy again.”

He shot Lindsay a scowl that could kill on sight. “Yeah, let’s go.” A second later, he was off toward the building.

Lindsay mouthed, “Thank you,” and walked back to her car, ducking her head like she was trying to curl into a small, invisible ball.