Whiplash: A Sports Romance (27 page)

I focus on what I can control and that’s the show. I grab my make-up foundation and smear a thin layer on my skin. I draw thick lines around my eyes with black liner to make them pop under the stage lights. I swallow the lump down my throat to keep from crying and try not to think about how I just turned my back on the only love I’ve ever known.

Grant sits down on the edge of the vanity table. “Lover Boy wants to know what’s wrong with you.”

I sigh. “You talked to him?”

“He accosted me in the lobby. I feared for my life,” he jokes, laying a hand on his heart. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I say, grabbing the lipstick from my make-up bag.

Grant snatches it from my hand and slides the bag away from me. “What’s wrong?” he asks again.

“Grant, we need to get ready.”

“We’ll get ready after. What happened?”

I take a deep breath but it doesn’t help. “Dad found out about us.”

He gives a slow nod. “How did he find out?”

“He found…” I hesitate. “He just found out.”

“Did you tell Junior?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I heave an impatient breath.
“Grant…”

“He said you broke up with him.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t be together,” I answer. “We never should have been in the first place.”

Grant shakes his head. “Why are you letting this tear you apart? What aren’t you telling me?”

A fresh wave of nausea plagues me. I’ve felt it since last night; a slow burn inside that never quite seems to go away no matter what I do.

“Junior will never choose me,” I mutter.

“Choose you?” he repeats. “Over what?”

“Over football. Over everything — the fame, money. All of it.”

“That’s
crap
,” Grant spits.

“Is it?” I ask. “My dad chose it over me before. What makes Junior any different?”

“The difference is that Junior
loves
you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. It’s written all over his fucking face.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He may love me now but who knows how long that will last?”

Grant sighs, his jaw flexing with sad frustration. “Eliza…”

“It’s already done.” I reach over his lap and grab the make-up bag off the next vanity. “We have a show to do.”

He reaches into his pocket for his phone as he slides down into his chair. “Well, for the record, I think you’re making a really stupid mistake, Eliza.”

“Noted.”

A really stupid mistake.

I would love to admit that I’ve made a mistake and race out of here to fall back into Junior’s arms but I can’t. Junior has wanted to play in the pros since he was a little kid. His family is expecting it. Who am I to take that from him? What kind of person does that make me to take away everything he’s worked so hard for and dictate the course of his life?

I won’t let Cary Pierce dictate mine anymore.

I’ll stay for the show. I owe it to the rest of the cast and crew to finish it. There’s a matinee tomorrow and then an evening show and then after that, I’ll leave. I won’t let Monday morning come, along with the shackles of my father’s demands on me.

Junior never has to know.

Chapter 29

Junior

My phone vibrates and I check it so fast, I nearly drop it on the concrete floor.

She had a fight with her dad.

I lean against the locker, reading it over and over again, allowing for it all to sink in but it never quite does.

There’s only one thing they could have fought about to make Eliza this upset.

He knows.

“Everybody gather around…”

Cary Pierce stops in front of us, his eyes scanning the team in their uniforms and he grins with pride.

“This is it, guys,” he says. “You’re one more win away from playing in the regional championship game.”

The team erupts, screaming and slamming their fists against the lockers. He raises his hand to calm them down.

“But to me… it won’t matter if you win or lose tonight because, in my mind, we’ve already won. The group of guys I met back in September isn’t in this room anymore. They were weak, they were
losers
. You are bigger, you are better. And tonight, you’re winners.” His eyes fall on me. “All of you.”

I look away, doubt coursing through me. Maybe he doesn’t know after all. If he does, he’s not showing it.

“This is as much of an achievement for me as it is for you,” he says, finally looking away from me. “I came to this school to make a difference and I’m pretty sure I did. Win or lose, the world knows who you are now. And they will not forget.”

The team bangs and shouts again, drawing a thick grin to his face.

“But still… I’d rather win, so let’s go out there and be winners, guys.”

I grab my helmet from my locker and follow the rough scrape of cleats across the floor as the team rushes for the field. Their enthusiasm pulses through me, forcing all doubt and fear aside and replacing it with powerful adrenaline.

I pass by the coach and he lays a thick hand on my chest to stop me.

“Hold on…” he says, adding pressure.

I fall back against the wall, feeling the power in his hand even beneath my pads.

The rest of the team passes by without notice and race outside onto the field along with Bob.

Once their shouts echo away, Cary Pierce looks at me and smiles.

“I’m proud of you, Junior,” he says, keeping his hand on my chest. “You’ve come a long way.”

I nod, absolutely torn between fear and admiration. “Thank you, Coach.”

“The night we met, I told you one thing. Do you remember what it was?”

“You said I had a legendary arm,” I shrug, letting my nerves get the best of my words.

He doesn’t react. “What else?”

“I’m sorry, Coach,” I chuckle, looking at the field. “I don’t remember.”

“I told you to stay away from my daughter,” he says, staring hard at me. It’s odd but this is the first time I’ve noticed that he and Eliza have the same blue eyes. “Do you remember now?”

His hand slides off my chest but I still feel the weight of it, along with the crushing heft of the last few months. Every kiss, every minute spent inside of her. All behind Cary Pierce’s back.

“I can explain—”

“You’re benched, Junior.”

My jaw drops.
“What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “You’re not playing tonight. You can sit this one out.”

I look at the field again, listening to the thunderous cries of the crowd. “You can’t just not let me play — it’s the final game of the season.”

“I can and I will.”

“We’ll lose.”

“Good.” He doesn’t even blink. “Losing is good for you sometimes. Maybe having this championship pulled out from under you will make you think twice about disobeying me again.”

Every piece of me burns red. “She’s an
adult
,” I argue. “She can date whoever she wants—”

“Don’t you dare talk about her.” He steps forward, towering over me like a damn giant. “You’ve done enough
scoring
this season, Junior. Next season, you can try again.”

I shake my head. “This is bullshit. You have no right—”

“Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll make sure you never pick up another ball for the rest of your life.” He narrows his eyes. “Think about
that
, Junior. Is she really worth throwing your dreams away for?”

My vision blurs with spots of white. The crowd fades in my ears, leaving nothing but the pleasant memory of Eliza laughing in my bed.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “I’m dating Eliza but that’s not enough of a reason to let the team waste an entire season.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“Then how about this?” He lowers his voice, growling through a thin line between his teeth. “I’m benching you for letting me down, for letting this team down, but
mostly
, I’m benching you for
knocking up my daughter
.”

My heart sinks. “Wait — what?”

He points a stiff finger at the field. “Get out there, sit down, and don’t get up again until the clock strikes zero and the crowd boos your name… or you’re finished.”

Eliza.

She knew. It was written all over her face but I couldn’t see it.

“Now, Junior.”

I pause, split between her and the team and everything in the middle. My feet carry me towards the field, slowly drifting on air and I don’t even realize it when I sit down on the bench.

Eliza Pierce is having my baby.

***

“Junior! Junior! Junior!”

At the start of the game, their cries were eager and excited. A lot can change in less than two hours.

Now, they’re angry and confused. They’re calling my name with seething hatred just like Cary Pierce wants them to and I have to sit here and take it or my life as an athlete is over.

I keep my head down, staring at the grass beneath me to avoid the eyes of the rest of the team.

It’s not their overwhelming disappointment in me keeping me in place on this bench. It’s not the plummeting scoreboard leaving me numb inside, nor the constant sound of my teammates getting trampled across the gridiron.

It’s her.

Eliza knew about this and she didn’t tell me. I like to think I know her pretty well and after ninety minutes of letting this sink in, I’m sure I know why she kept this from me.

She’s scared. She knows how important this sport is to me and how much opportunity I have now that Cary Pierce is leading me straight to the pros.

She met my family. She spent time in my childhood home. She knows I’d never get to the pros on my own and her having my baby right now could derail that into oblivion.

“Her existence made achieving my dreams a whole lot harder.”

Cary Pierce told me that himself in his office and I’m damn sure the bastard said the same thing to her when he found out. That’s why she broke up with me. It wasn’t because she wanted to. She thought it was the best thing to do for me and my future.

Well, I disagree.

I stand up off the bench and drop my helmet onto the grass.

“Junior.”

Coach’s bark carries over the rest of the fray. He stares at me with hateful side-eyes, firing a dark warning shot for me to sit back down.

I ignore him.

“Junior!”

Eliza doesn’t know how much she means to me. She doesn’t know how I’d go to hell and back just to see her smile again. She doesn’t know how much I’ve fallen in love with her.

But she’s about to.

I turn away from the field, cutting through the haze of cameras and screaming voices, rushing down the ramp towards the stadium exit.

A hand grips my shoulder. “Junior—”

I jerk away from his grasp; away from Cary Pierce, my childhood hero.

“I’m out,” I tell him.

His hard eyes twinge with amusement. “I never thought you were this stupid, Junior. Don’t give up your dreams over something like this.”

“Playing ball isn’t my dream, Coach.” I turn away. “She is.”

He says nothing and I turn my back on him one last time.

I break into a sprint, peeling off the layers weighing me down as I move. I toss my jersey to the ground, along with my shoulder pads. I won’t be needing them anymore.

I cut through the quad, weaving through the grass, dodging the confused faces of students hanging out, and plow right through the doors of Talon Hall.

The lobby is so silent, I hear the gentle echo of voices on the stage before I even reach the auditorium, including hers.

My Eliza.

“Whoa — hold on.”

Some douchebag stops me in front of the auditorium doors. He stares at me with an upturned nose, flashing me what little authority the theatre department has bestowed upon him. “You can’t go in while the show is on.”

“I need to talk to one of the actors,” I say, nearly choking as I realize how out of breath I am. “It’s important.”

“It can wait until curtain.”

I grunt at him with impatience and take off down the hall, following the sound of her voice around the corner until I find the backstage door.

It’s almost pitch black and I take a quick moment to let my eyes adjust and to catch my breath with my ears tuned to her voice. I smile, recalling the monologue she recited over a dozen times in my bed.

“Junior?”

I squint into the dark curtains until I see Grant’s stunned eyes staring back at me. “Grant—” I rush to him and he holds up his hands.

“What are you doing here?” he whispers. “You can’t be back here.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“Okay, cool,” he nods. “She’s a little busy right now.”

I look over his shoulder and there she is, standing on the other side of the stage. Her hair is curled and dolled up on her head — absolutely nothing like her usual style. A yellow sundress hugs her body and for a second, my mind runs wild.

Soon, her body will change. Our child will grow and kick and someday, I’ll hold it in my arms.