it. She picked the wrong time to annoy me with her bullshit.
I didn’t think I had to.
I click Send, even knowing my reply is harsh. Her reply comes through a few seconds later.
Wow. Just wow.
It’s pointless to continue the convo, so I just shove my phone back in the duffel bag and try to forget my ex is acting like we just broke up yesterday and not two years ago.
31
CHARLIE
I take back everything I’ve ever said about football. Being in the stadium, feeling the contagious energy of the crowd, made me understand why people love it so much. I still don’t know most of the rules, but in the end, it didn’t matter.
There was also the added bonus that I wanted the opposing team to lose badly all thanks to the encounter with those bullies earlier, and the Rushmore Rebels delivered. It was a hard game, and the score remained tight throughout the entire three and a half hours, but in the end, the Rebels won. My voice is hoarse from screaming.
Troy texts me that he might not be able to sneak out to ride with us. I totally understand. This victory was amazing, and I’m sure the celebration in the locker room is crazy right now. I tell him not to worry. His reply is to let him know when we’re in the food court and he’ll try to make it.
The crowd is slow to leave, and since we’re all the way down, it takes at least ten minutes for our row to move. Ben and I file out, and then we trudge along with the rest of the people. It feels like an eternity before we finally reach the top of the stairs. I get out of the traffic headed for the exit and look for a quieter spot to text Troy back.
He’ll be here in a few minutes, so I wait, keeping my eyes peeled and searching for him in the crowd. But I find someone else first, and I wish I’d missed her altogether. Brooke, Troy’s beautiful friend, is coming in my direction. It’s too late now to pretend I didn’t see her, and it’s clear she’s making a beeline in my direction. She’s with a friend, a brunette just as tall as she is but not as pretty.
“Hey. Charlie, right?” Brooke asks me with a phony smile plastered on her face.
“Yep. How’s it going?”
“Oh, pretty good. So, you and Troy, huh?”
I knew she had ulterior motives for coming to speak to me. Thanks to my snooping of Troy’s Instagram profile before my interview with him, I know they’re close, probably dated at some point. But he’s never mentioned her, so I wasn’t going to ask. Judging by Brooke’s fake friendliness, my assumption was correct. If they didn’t date, then she has a major crush on him.
Too fucking bad.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get it,” the friend says. “Weren’t you the girl who wrote that nasty article about him? Why would he date you?”
I narrow my eyes for a second, but when I reply, it’s with a saccharine smile. “You know what they say: there’s a fine line between love and hate. I guess we were just bound to cross it.”
“Oh, so now you think Troy is in love with you?” She scoffs. “In your dreams.”
“Tammy, please.” Brooke touches her friend’s arm as her face twists into an expression of discomfort.
Yeah, I’m not buying it.
The ugly brunette takes a sip of her soda first before replying, “What? I was just saying what everyone knows. Troy doesn’t love anyone but himself.”
Whoa. Maybe we have more than one scorned woman here, not only Brooke.
“I’m pretty sure his only problem is that he has high standards,” Ben says before I can.
“Oh my God. The retarded boy speaks.” The bitch looks at Ben with disdain, an expression I know too well. What she doesn’t know is that every bully who has taunted my brother because of his Down syndrome has paid the price.
Brooke gasps, looking genuinely shocked by her friend’s comment. It doesn’t matter. My vision has already turned red, and before anyone can stop me, I pull my arm back and punch the bitch in the nose.
Her head jerks back right before she screeches, creating a commotion. “What the hell! You broke my nose.”
Unlikely, since I didn’t hear anything crack.
My pulse is pumping in my ears when I reply through clenched teeth, “Be glad that’s all I broke.”
Troy appears suddenly, breaking through the crowd to get to us. “What happened?”