“Seth didn’t hit her.” I would never believe it. No one, not even Clara, could make me believe that. “Seth may have a temper, but he’s never raised his hand at me.”
“I saw the bruises that Layla had, and everyone knew they were having problems.”
“You believe a lot of bullshit, Clara. I just can’t buy into that. How do you know they weren’t from sports or something else?”
“It was obvious, Avery. It’s easy to put two and two together.”
“Well, I like Seth, and I want to give it a try. You being good with my decisions was important to me. Hell, I’ve always tried to seek your approval and make you proud of my choices, but I think it’s time that I go my own way on this one. It’s time I trust my own judgment and follow my own happiness.”
Clara shook her head. “Avery, that’s not always the right thing. If anyone is living proof of that, it’s me. I’ve tried to do things my way and look at me.”
I couldn’t say anything to that and not offend her, but then, I didn’t really have to defend my actions to anyone. I wasn’t my sister, and I was determined to get what I wanted.
As I left her apartment, Clara followed me to the door. “You do what you want, but be ready for the ‘told you so’ that comes with it.”
Chapter 8 Seth
Practice was growing increasingly brutal as we neared the championships. Coach Carr’s whistle echoed in my ears by the time it was over, and I hoped I didn’t have a permanent case of tinnitus.
As we walked into the locker room, I stripped off my shirt. It was grass stained and sweat soaked like me.
As I turned toward my locker, I heard a voice over the idle chatter of my teammates. “Yeah, it would have gone better if someone didn’t have their head up Avery Russell’s ass.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know who was talking shit about Avery and me again, but I did anyway, just so he would know I heard it. I was sure that was the whole point of Carver saying it, and if he wanted my attention, he was going to get it.
“If you have something to say about Avery and me, you can say it to me. And if you’d stop worrying about my relationships, maybe you wouldn’t suck on the field.”
Carver’s lips peeled back to show his yellow teeth. “How about you suck it, you piece of shit? You’re the one who is going to cost us our championship with your head in the clouds and your mind up her skirt. And before you go and make it like she’s the world to you, I know you were at Omega House trolling again.”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure who is telling you my every move.” I shook my head. “If you want to stalk me, why don’t you at least be a man about it and not use your spies? And if they knew anything about what I was doing there, they’d know better than to accuse me of doing anything wrong.”
Motor spoke up. “We know who you were doing, and it wasn’t Avery Russell. She probably doesn’t even know you were there. Maybe she should, though.”
I had nothing to hide, but the last thing I needed was more rumors getting me into trouble.
Paul came in just as I stepped up to stand toe to toe with the asshole. “Whoa!” he said, getting between us. “Coach is just outside. What the fuck are you doing?”
“He’s got a hang-up about my love life,” I said. “I’m beginning to think Motormouth here is jealous and wants to fuck me. He’s even got his bitch Carver stalking me.”
Carver lunged forward and swung his fist in my direction. “I’ll show you who is whose bitch!”
I ducked the punch and came up swinging. I wasn’t about to be taken out by these assholes. And sure enough, Motor, who was famous for not fighting his own battles aside from dropping passes on the court, took a swing as well.
His fist connected with my ribs, but I was used to worse from my old man. I gave him the Mills uppercut, and once my fist hit his chin, his eyes went back in his head, and he fell to the floor.
Coach Carr came in about that time, with all of the whooping and hollering, and blew his fucking whistle again. “Seth! Motor! Carver! Paul! My office now!”
We all turned to look at the floor, and when Coach noticed that Motor was knocked out but coming around, he looked at Carver. “Drag his ass with you.”
It wasn’t often that Coach wanted to see us in the office as he usually wanted to take out his wrath with an audience in the locker room. If it had come to be behind closed doors, we were all in for it.
I led the way, knowing it so well, my feet had worn a path. I went down the hall and turned into his office, which was full of sports memorabilia and Coach’s old team photos. He followed us all the way, curses flowing from his lips like a running faucet as he helped Carver, who led a half-conscious Motor to the office with us.
Once the door was shut, he spun around and unloaded. “What in Sam Hell is going on with you young men? I have had fewer problems with a bunch of fucking high schoolers, and if you don’t win this next championship, I’ll probably end up coaching back there again. Now I want you to put whatever petty grudges you have against each other aside and worry about the fucking game. And I mean it. You are all on probation, and if I have one more
