Dare You to Hate Me by B. Celeste (classic fiction .txt) đź“•
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- Author: B. Celeste
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She leans back in her chair. “I saw what ESPN was saying about you after your last game. They seem optimistic that you’ll be a first pick.”
I lift a shoulder. It’s not new news.
When I don’t offer her a reply, she chooses another topic. “What about this girl? Bill seems to think you’re one of the few he can invest the most time in because you’re never distracted by the wiles of college.”
Wiles of college. “Clearly that didn’t work out so well for me when I tried it. I was booted and brought here, which is why Coach is so willing to invest his effort. He knows I won’t fuck it up again.”
“Wilson Reed,” she concludes.
She knows the story. It’s all laid out in the file in front of her. “I fucked up and refuse to repeat the same mistakes. The girl…” I want to say she doesn’t matter but I’d be lying. “She won’t be a problem.”
Rachel lifts her hands. “I never said she would be. And we both know that Bill wants what’s best for you.”
“He wants what’s best for the team,” I correct dryly. “And so do I.”
The sigh she lets out is soft. “Aiden, you do understand that it’s okay to have more than football in your life, right? There’s more than playing the game. Dating, especially at your age, is perfectly natural. It won’t mess you up.”
I give her nothing in return.
Her head shakes in defeat. “Fine, we won’t talk about it. It looks like Wilson Reed will be one of your competitors this season with how you’re both playing.”
“So?”
“You didn’t come here on the greatest terms. It may be hard to see some of your old team. I know a few of them graduated—”
I grip the armrests. “Can we just tell Coach we had this talk? I don’t need a therapy session. No offense, but I have better stuff to do with my time then gossip about my old college or personal life.”
Her frown makes me feel a little bad, but I brush it off because the last thing I want to be doing is getting lectured by another woman in my life telling me that it’s okay to be upset. Mom has that handled on our weekly calls when she checks in.
It’s okay that I’m pissed over Wilson Reed.
It’s okay that I’m irritated with Ivy.
It’s okay that I’m stressed over my future.
But it’s not. Because all of those feelings will ravage my mind if I let them take over.
Closing the folder, she puts it on the pile with a few others. “I only want to help, but if that’s all you want to say today then head out. I know you’re busy.”
Rubbing my lips together, I grab my bag from the floor and haul it over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be a dick.”
“You weren’t. I get it.”
“And about Matt…” I’m the last person to tell someone what not to do with their lives, but I can see where things are going with our wide receiver and it won’t be pretty when shit hits the fan. “He doesn’t always think about others when he goes after things. Keep that in mind. You both have a lot to lose.”
There’s a long pause between us before she nods once and forces a tight smile. “Thank you, Aiden. Have a good day.”
I hum and walk out, not feeling bad for planting that in her head. We can’t afford to lose Matt to an impossible endeavor like screwing school faculty. She may not be that much older than us, but the school won’t see it that way. His bragging record will get her canned and him kicked off the team for misconduct, then we’d be fucked. Most second-string players are nowhere near as good as first, and we need a steady winning streak to keep us getting noticed.
As I pass by Coach’s door, I see him on the phone with somebody through the narrow window. Whatever conversation he’s having looks intense, and as if he knows I’m walking by, he looks up to lock eyes with me.
Tipping his head once, he turns his chair to face the wall and scrubs his face over something the other person is saying.
I promised not to let him down when I transferred here, and he’s never doubted me. But there are other people I made that promise to in the past that I failed.
There’s no way in hell I’m making that mistake again.
Chapter Six
Ivy
I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of dripping water. Sitting up in bed groggily, my ears twitch as I blindly reach for the cheap lamp I found at a garage sale and flick the light on. Wincing as my eyes adjust, I blink a few times before searching for the cause of the sound.
“Shit.” I bolt out of bed and almost eat ass when my foot gets tangled in the blanket. Stumbling, I catch myself on the floor and rush over to the water pooling in the ceiling right over my clothes.
The clothes that are all out because I have no dresser or closet in this shitty room. Besides my poor pieces of unwanted furniture there’s nothing else but a broken washing machine and other junk they have no reason to store.
Grabbing my last dry towel, I curse to myself knowing I’ll have to go to the laundromat sooner than expected. I’m already short on cash, which means what I do have will have to go to this. Though based on the poor perception of Lindon’s tight end, and probably half his teammates by now, he probably wouldn’t be surprised if I walked around town in nothing but my skin.
It’s been almost a week, and I’m still grinding my teeth over the encounter. The only date I had that night was with my bed,
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