Chapter 28

aight so I popped my little head back in here to do some writing and I had so many notifs and I literally couldn't respond to them all. this is boring to u guys but this book just hit 32K!UHDWuDFNJDFfah!!!

(lol we got 8K more since I wrote that)

so im leaving this here to come back to and see how much its grown later. im sorry if I can't respond to everyone but I literally love every one of u guys you're all so sweet wth. people are like picking up on my hints way before they know how the story goes and its so cool and so rewarding as a writer. im literally so excited for the next parts of the story they are so intense and will be so much fun to write and I hope u guys have fun reading them wherever in the world u are ❤️

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxxTBYhBvPc

ROCCO

On impact with Oscar's foot, the ball flew into the air, arching above our heads to the other side of the field towards the Reindeer.

At once, the field explodes into action, the Reindeer running beneath the ball. It thumped into the arms of a tall Reindeer down the other end of the field, who then began to sprint towards us. We ran towards them as well, dodging Reindeers or getting tackled as we fought to get towards the ball. Rio, quick and strong, managed to get to the guy with the ball and tackle him, just as he threw the ball over our heads to a Reindeer on the other side, who caught it and ran. A Reindeer shoved hard past me, and I ran behind him, hot on his heels. Tall Tom ran beside the Reindeer with the ball, then braced himself and tackled the guy off the field.

The game continued in our favour, but barely. We made up for what we lacked in brute strength and violence with training, implementing moves we had practiced over and over until they were automatic.

However, one Reindeer managed to slip past our ranks to score a touchdown, leaving us frustrated and dejected. We huddled on the field.

"Ok, so they got one." I said, glaring out the circle of players. "Do we give a shit? No. Cos we know we're better. Relax, keep your eyes open, and stay light. Got it?"

The guys let out a cheer, and jogged back onto the field. The game started again, moving much faster now.

I saw Wilson streaking past me with the ball, long legs covering the distance speedily, and ran wide so he could pass it to me. Icy rain was beginning to fall from the grey skies above. I could hear the sound of my own panting breath.

Someone grabbed on to Wilson's shirt, tugging him backwards, but not before he looked up, stretched his arm back, and hurled the ball over across the field to me.

It slammed down into my arms as I ran, pounding my feet harder and harder against the muddying grass. A Reindeer loomed in front of me, arms outstretched, but I darted away and kept running, hearing the sound of thudding feet right behind me. I could see the goal line growing closer and closer, felt hands grabbing at my back, and leapt -

and collided with the ground on the other side of the goal line, rolling to a stop with the ball clutched in my arms.

The guys were hollering and cheering, a whistle was blowing, and someone was slapping my helmet as I stood up.

"Yeah boys! Rocco, you son of a bitch!" Oscar was yelling. A grin split my face.

The next part of the game was tough. The Reindeers were desperate and angry, pushing themselves and us back again and again.

We were tied now, with very little time to go. I looked around and saw grim and muddy players, waiting on me to say something. I looked around until I spotted Oscar, and gave him a pointed nod.

His eyebrows lowered and he nodded back.

Then I sprinted in front of him, pushing the Reindeer players back, creating a space.

Wilson was holding the ball, and when he saw us clearing a space, he tossed the ball to Oscar, who immediately dropped the ball onto his kicking foot and sent it soaring over the field and between the two goalposts.

A great roar went out from the guys, and we ran in and piled on top of Oscar as the clock ran down to zero.

---

JAX

We got a lot of stares from the old folks when we entered the hotel lobby, covered with mud and dripping rainwater onto the shiny floor, but nobody gave a shit. The game had been too fucking good for that.

I couldn't even express how good it felt to play football again and be in a team. My muscles were already beginning to ache and bruises were starting to come up from being tackled, but a grin kept making its way onto my face.

We were sent up to our rooms to shower. Once in our room, Denver nodded at the bathroom door.

"You go first, " He said gruffly, stripping off his wet jacket.

"Aww, come on now. No need to be so cold. We can go together. " I taunted him, but he just looked at me in his weird way.

In the shower, mud streamed off my body in the shower, warming up my freezing hands and feet. I got out and towelled myself off with one of the warm white towels hung up on the rack. Rocco had begun to play some upbeat music from the other room, and I wrote "DICKHEAD"  in the misted up mirror.

ROCCO

I tried my hardest not to look at Wilson when he came out of the shower. I never got used to seeing him like that, wet hair unstyled and skin dripping, only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked so... touchable.

"Your turn, " I heard him say, as he leaned over to pick up some clean clothes.

It was still weird to come into a bathroom after he had just showered. The room was hot and humid, filled with visible steam, some of which had undoubtedly come off his body.

He had written "DICKHEAD" in the misted glass of the mirror. I scowled and left it.

While I was showering, I heard my music change to some sort of rap. My mouth dropped open. That asshole! How was he a dick when he was happy and a dick when he was unhappy?

Even though Wilson was pissing me off, I was still buzzing from the game. Yes, I had scored a touchdown, but the way the team had played made me so proud. Wow - when we had started training our setups had been clunky and awkward, but the guys had played them against the Reindeers as if they were second nature. This team, man - the next season was going to be hype.

JAX

Denver looked fucking gorgeous as usual when he got out of the shower (did I just say that?). I watched him from where I lay on my bed, scrolling through some stupid shit on my phone.

He got dressed, lay down on his bed, and opened up a book which he was already halfway through.

I leaned forward a bit to see its title. 1984, George Orwell. Boring as fuck.

I scrolled a bit more, then sighed.

And sighed again.

"Fuck you want," said Denver in a muffled voice.

"I'm bored." I said, watching him.

Silence.

"And that's my problem how?" Denver said. He was gripping that book quite tightly now.

"You're a good captain." I said. "The guys like you. "

He was silent, probably because I never said anything nice to him.

Then, more aggressively "What do you want?"

I sighed and picked up my phone again. "I don't know. Don't get your panties in a twist, man. "

Denver made no sense to me. He was so like well-spoken and responsible and respectable and all that bullshit around literally everyone, but when it came to me he was... Well, whatever he was. Actually now come to think of it, it wasn't that weird. I was an asshole to him too. The rain was pelting down hard now outside, and it was windy too. I yawned, turned over, and then somewhere along the line I fell asleep.

---

When I woke, Denver's hand was gripping my shoulder painfully. "Oi, Wilson. "

"What?" I said, turning around.

He pulled his hand back as if he'd been burned. "Coach says we have to come down for dinner. "

I sat up. The wind was screaming outside now, and the rain sounded like hail.

At dinner, Coach looked grave. "Alright boys. You were so amazing in the last game I nearly cried."

A chorus of "Nawww, Coach!" went around the table.

Coach smiled grimly. "That's the good news. The bad news is that the rest of the tournament is canceled. Hurricane Doug has unexpectedly moved in towards us, and even if it doesn't get here, the storms will be so bad that we can't play anyway."

There was shocked silence.

"Damn," said Rio.

Denver cleared his throat. "Yeah. Damn. That fucking sucks. But you boys made me so proud today that it doesn't suck that bad. Remember, we've got the whole season ahead of us now, and if we keep playing like that, we'll be city and maybe even state champions. So one tournament is canceled? Who cares."

A cheer went around the table, with a few "Well said, well said,"s and "Thanks, dad,"s going round.

I didn't say anything.

It was dark outside as we went up to our rooms, the guys chattering happily even though we were going home tomorrow.

Me and Denver went into our room in silence. Denver began whistling the tune of the song I had been playing earlier. Suddenly, the lights flickered out, the room going dark.

Denver glanced up. "Powercut, " he said needlessly.

He went back to his book, and I went back to laying on the bed, holding my phone.

My phone's screen was black, though. I didn't feel like turning it on. A rage was rushing through me, so hot that I felt my face warm.

It felt like everything was conspiring against me. A fucking shitbag for a father, my childhood best friend turning into an asshole, being poor - and now this stupid tournament being cancelled, right when I had just gotten back into football - nothing ever went right.

Denver was still whistling that song from his side of the room.

My blood had reaching a boiling point. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, slamming my phone down.

"Shut the fuck up, " I yelled.

Denver looked up at me, shock frozen on his face, then his eyebrows lowered.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?" He hissed. "You wanna fight, then you wanna be friends, now you're back to hating me?"

I scoffed. "As if you're in the right. You hate me too - it takes two to tango. You hate me so much that anyone would think you're jealous - "

"Jealous?" He asked, incredulously. His eyes flicked away. "Trust me, I'm not jealous - "

"Oh right, of course you're not. You've got everything - perfect parents, you're rich, smart, football captain, you can choose to join a gang instead of being forced into one. But even with all your headstarts you still manage to be a dickless asshole who lives off Mommy and Daddy's money, and can't do anything for himself because everything has been handed to him on a platter. "

Denver was silent for a long time, his black eyes fixed on mine. The rain slammed against the windows.

"Maybe," He said quietly. "But at least I haven't inherited the cheating gene. "

My blood ran cold. My mind was trying to process something, trying to understand what he meant by that.

"What the fuck do you mean." I said lowly.

"Your mom. " He said, drawing the words out. "Cheated on your dad with mine. "

The world was frozen in that moment, my vision tunneling. "No. " I said. "No, she wouldn't. "

Denver shrugged. "Well, she did. And you inherited the cheating gene. You just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?"

My mind was racing, connecting the dots, despite me trying to blank out. I'd never wanted more to have no thoughts.

"Don't you remember when you tried to sleep with Mallory even though you knew we were, um, dating? Or Sirena? Or me?"

My whole body flushed in horror at his last words. My mouth was dry. I gaped for a second, and then collected myself, clenching my jaw.

"Mm. Well, I seem to remember that you enjoyed that. Maybe it isn't me who has inherited the cheating gene."

Now it was Denver's turn to go silent, red creeping up onto his cheeks. It felt so good to get a rise out of him that I wanted to do it again. I grinned slowly.

"Maybe you want to do it again? Since you don't seem to remember how much you liked it? How much you liked it when I kissed you?"

The words had just left my mouth when Denver was flying towards me, hands outstretched, eyes dark and wild with fury.

He slammed bodily into me, but I shoved his fist out of the way before it could make contact with my jaw.

He was on top of me in my bed, a knee in my stomach. I was coughing and choking, winded, but still managed to land a punch to his abdomen that made him double over. He wrapped a hand around my throat, but I could still take gasping breaths. I brought my hands up to his, trying to dig my fingers under his to pull them off.

"You asked me before what I wanted, " I rasped, breathing hard, staring up into his eyes like dark wells of water. "I never wanted any of those girls. I just messed with them to get to you, because... because, you're the only one I've ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted. It's you. It's you. It's - " He was pressing down hard on my shoulders, getting closer and closer, heating radiating from his skin.

"- Denver. What are you - " And then his scorching lips pressed onto mine for the second time in our lives and I was alight.

ROCCO

He was twisting under me, pulling himself out from under my hands. His arm came around from my left side, slid into my hair and pulled hard, canting my head back, opening my mouth to him.

I pushed back, the pain lighting my senses on fire. He was so close. His body under mine, so close, something I'd only dreamed of.

You're all I've ever wanted, he had said, and everything had fallen apart and there was only him, and he wanted me.

I shoved his shoulders hard into the bed, and he let out an uncontrolled sound into my mouth. He wrestled my hands off him again, and pushed up on his elbows. His mouth curved against mine, which made me grin too. I ran my hand over his shoulder, down his chest and abs, chiseled under his shirt.

I tore my mouth off his. "God, " I said.

He watched me with his icy eyes, mouth swollen and slightly parted. I leaned forward again and pressed my lips against his throat, and he breathed in sharply and tilted his head back, his hand sliding from my hair to grab my upper arm so tight that it was painful.

It felt like worship to kiss his collarbones and hear him hiss "Fuck, Denver. "

It's you, he had said.