Dare You to Hate Me by B. Celeste (classic fiction .txt) 📕

is saying, her arms crossed over her chest and a jacket that looks like my mother’s is draped over her shoulders for warmth.

When I decided to make the trek home with Caleb and DJ, I wasn’t sure what I’d say when I showed up at the little white house I’d only been in a handful of times after meeting Ivy. She preferred hanging out at mine, away from her mother and brother since they were always there. Yet, she’d always tell me she’d have to check on Porter if we got lost on one of our adventures, never wanting to leave him alone for long.

It doesn’t matter how many years separated them, or what she thinks of herself for leaving him behind, she never stopped caring about what happened to her family. That’s only proven in the way her arm moves to wrap around her brother’s as she listens with apt attention to whatever he’s explaining to her as he points at something in the field.

“Griffith,” Coach barks, pulling my attention away from the girl who can’t admit how she really feels. Her silence in the truck stung, but I tried not to take it personally. I didn’t say the three words I feel directly, so why should I expect her to when she’s adamant she doesn’t know what love is supposed to be like?

I wanted to tell her, it feels like this.

But would she run?

Turning on my heels, I face Pearce with a nod of my helmeted head. “Coach.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders, squeezing the pads protecting me. “The first quarter didn’t look so good for us, but Wallace managed to get us on the board. That’s something to work with out there. Are you going to be good for the second? We need your full attention if we’re going to beat these assholes.”

“We will, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” The word is bitter on my tongue, tasting of disbelief.

“The boys are talking a lot of smack out there and DJ already got us a penalty for unnecessary roughness because of the shit talk. Last thing I need is getting a player ejected because they’re letting petty bull crap creep under their skin. You’re tough. Keep your head up out there if you want to beat them.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“I knew the second I saw you two together that Ivy has the capability of changing everything for you. You can drool over her after we beat these sons of bitches. Understand?”

My jaw ticks. “Understood, Coach.”

He releases my shoulders and grabs the headpiece on my helmet, pulling me closer. “I didn’t hear you. Are we going to take the Raiders down?”

My nostrils flare. “Yes, Coach,” I say louder. He lets go of my helmet and gives me one last look before clapping his hands and calling us together.

The cement feeling in my stomach only grows heavier with each passing quarter.

An interference.

A 15-yard penalty.

Tripping.

I come face-to-face with one of the opposing defense players who narrows his eyes at me. “I can see why they let you go,” he says, trying to block my opening. Ignoring him doesn’t get the message across, and every move I make he mimics with a sense of challenge that goes beyond the game. “What? Nothing to say. What they say about you must be true then. You’re nothing but a pussy.”

Grinding my teeth, I create an opening just as the ball comes soaring in my direction from Wallace. I’m running with as much speed as I can and avoiding the Raiders coming at me when I catch the ball and cradle it to my chest and make a break for the end zone.

I’m twenty yards away.

Fifteen.

Two guys are hot on my heels, one of them mere inches away when I push myself harder than I ever have before to get to the ten-yard line.

This touchdown would put us in the lead.

We’d win.

All the trash talk.

All the bullshit.

All the penalties.

It’d be worth it.

Five yards away—

Three—

A body slams into me with so much force it’s suddenly hard to breathe when my body collides with the turf. I bounce on impact and slide past another yard, watching the ball roll away from my body.

The timer hits zero.

The final quarter ends.

The crowd goes fucking insane, a noise that’s deafening when reality hits me as I lay sprawled across the ground.

Lindon Dragons lost.

Wilson Reed Raiders won.

The guy who took me down jumps up in time for his team to run over and celebrate with him, surrounding my spent body with poor sportsmanship. I turn my head and watch as two of my own team members run over with shadowed expressions on their faces as they push past the assholes gyrating their hips to help me up.

“You good?” Caleb asks, checking me over, helping me brush off pieces of the turf my shoulder pads dug up on the fall.

“No.” My voice is almost unrecognizable between the noise of the Raiders fans cheering at their school’s victory and my own acknowledgment that I let the university beat me for a second time.

I said this wasn’t about facing my demons, but maybe if I’d been honest with myself I could have put my all out there on the field.

Caleb drags DJ away from the Raiders grouping together and walks all of us over to the rest of the team. Wallace is shooting off at the mouth, Matt is throwing his helmet on the ground and yelling at one of the referees closest to him, and Coach and his assistant are making their way to us with unreadable expressions on their faces.

When I meet Pearce’s eyes, he only shakes his head at me as he tells us all to go to the locker room.

As we make our walk off the field, there’s a mixture of boos that follow us from the Raiders fans. A few people direct their displeasure at some of us individually, and I’m not surprised to hear my name being the biggest target.

It’s my friend who murmurs, “Ignore them. They’re all dicks.”

It may be