Hustle

Rose covers her jaw-cracking yawn with her fist. “I don’t know how I’m going to sit through lecture like this. I’m exhausted.”

“Just sit in the back.” I take the last bite of my yogurt and add the container to the pile of trash on my tray.

“I do that anyways.” She winks at me with a smirk. “When TJ actually shows up to class, it’s kind of fun.” She sighs. “But he probably won’t be there today. We stayed out so late, he didn’t even go to bed before practice.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to keep up with him.”

“He likes me around.” The smile is gone from her face.

I try again, even softer this time. “I only meant, you need sleep¸ too.”

“I know.” She swipes her hand over her face with a groan. “I keep snapping at you over nothing. He’s driving me crazy. I don’t know how you do it, not let Andrew get to you.” She leans over the table, lowering her voice, her hazel eyes wide. “They’re always going places and doing things, and there’s so many people. When I’m there, it’s great. We get along really well—you’ve seen that. But I feel like I have to fight to get there. Like I have to keep reminding him.” She drops her head onto her arms crossed on the table. “What am I doing?”

“Rose,” I reach for her, a weight pulling on me as I grip her arm, “it’s not meant to be that way. Stop fighting for him.”

“But if I don’t try, I’ll never have him,” her voice is muffled in the crook of her arm, and then she looks up. “And I really do like him. I like being around him.”

I grab my tray, unable to look her in the eye, and rise to my feet to throw it away. I should say something, it’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t— I’m still paying for that lesson. My fingers are stiff from painting over that reminder yesterday.

“It’s not just me, Brook.” She’s at my side, sharpness back in her tone and narrowed eyes. “You’re fighting for Andrew, so don’t act like you’re in a better situation than me. And I’m not over here telling you to stop.”

“I was only responding to what you said.”

She throws away her drink, and I follow her out of the cafeteria.

“And I don’t want you to get hurt.” My own words grate on me. I’m a hypocrite.

“I’m just tired I guess and letting it all get to me. Forget I said anything.” She takes a breath and stops walking. “I’m not going to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

But I can tell she’s still hanging onto it as she leaves in the opposite direction without her usually confident walk.

I start towards class, slow and unsure. Drew said he would meet me, but I didn’t know where or when, and I still had no phone. I knew from lunch with Rose that he had stayed out late, too. At least till closing when they went separate ways.

When I spot him at the top of the hill, walking towards me, the intensity of my relief makes me lightheaded. And his smile makes me dizzy, even if it’s shadowed by the hood of his thin hoody pulled over his head.

When he reaches me, he pulls me into him and dips to kiss me. My heart goes into overdrive with the proof that yesterday’s promises are real.

He smiles against my lips, and his tongue sneaks out. “You taste sweet.”

I laugh and pull away, swiping at my mouth. “It’s the strawberry yogurt I had for lunch.”

He’s beside me, head tilted to watch me as we walk. “Get your homework finished?”

“Yeah, I have a quiz this class. I’m prepared though,” I remind myself.

“So no excuses tonight then. You can spend it with me?” His brow lifts as he questions with a sexy spark in his eyes.

And my voice vanishes, so I nod. A heat builds in my blood as I recall our morning yesterday; he had that same gaze then. I drop my eyes to the sidewalk in front of us, knowing that my face is probably flush.

“Good.” He releases his breath in a low whistle. “You had me a little worried since you didn’t come in to say hi last night.”

“Worried?” I look at him then, and he’s still staring, his eyes lidded as they drop over me.

“Yeah, I thought you might have been mad at me. Kyle asked about you, said he saw you in the car with Rose. Why didn’t you come in?”

“I was only dropping her off so she didn’t have to walk alone that late.”

He makes some sort of noise, almost like a snort. “She lets you walk it alone.”

I cross my arms over my jean jacket. “That’s when I have a phone. I didn’t have a phone last night for her to call and let me know she made it safe.”

“Do you have your phone now?” He asks as he opens the door to the science building, holding it wide for me to cross through.

“No. I checked everywhere, too. Jess even checked with the guy whose dorm I was in when we left. He said he remembers there was a phone on the couch, but he doesn’t know what happened to it.” I shake my head. “It’s my fault, I didn’t keep it with me. I’ll have to get a new one.”

“When?” He pulls me to his side with an arm around my waist. “I don’t like not being able to call you.”

“I’ll call my mom after class and see about it all. I’m still trying to find a job. I think I’ve got a good chance of working in the admission’s office, but—Hey.” I jump away as his hand slides to my butt.

“I can’t concentrate with you in this skirt.” He grabs my hand, stopping my escape. His smile is trouble as he pulls me against him in the middle of the hallway outside my class.

“It’s a long skirt.” It goes to my feet. “You can’t see anything.”

“Yeah, I can. Whatever the hell this is made of,” his hand slides along my hips, over the thin fabric of the skirt, “shows your ass. And I’m wondering, along with every other guy that we passed, what type of underwear you have on because I don’t see any lines.”

“Drew,” I speak into his chest as his hand slides down and squeezes my butt. “People can see us.” There’s a few passing by to the classroom.

“So,” his head dips to the top of my head, and he speaks into my hair, “I’m your boyfriend. I get to touch.”

My stomach spins with his words, and despite myself, I laugh and lean into him but reach around and shift his hands back to my hips. His body against mine has me tingling. “Later. I should get into class.”

His groan is half a laugh. “First, I need an answer. Or better yet,” his fingers walk along the fabric at my thighs, inching it up in his grip, “I can lift this skirt over your hips and find out.”

“No.” I slap his hands away and take a step back. “You need to stop.”

“Then you need to stop wearing those skirts. I can’t help myself. Remember,” he points to his chest and stalks towards me, “boyfriend. This is a perk of a relationship, right?”

“Public exposure is still illegal.” I try to laugh, but it’s a nervous giggle as I continue walking backwards down the hall.

“Then let’s go somewhere private.” He cocks his head, stilling his steps, eyes intent on me.

My pulse is flying and my attempt at seductive fails since I laugh through my response, “There’s nothing to show.”

“Fuck.” He swipes his hand over his head, knocking the hood off and closes the space between us. “Don’t tease me.”

His surprised but eager grin eggs me on, I like that excitement running through him, through me, and his body close to mine has me spinning out of control. But my voice is barely a whisper, “I could prove it, but I’ve got class.”

“This will only take a second.” He snatches my hand and pulls me around a corner, crowding me to the wall when we’re out of sight, gripping a handful of my skirt. “Are you serious right now? Because I will have this skirt up so damn quick.”

“Someone might walk by,” I warn him, but his body pressed to mine is intoxicating, and I slide my hands up his chest. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tonight, we’ll finish this tonight.” His mouth crashes into mine, tongue plunging between my lips as he holds me firm against the wall. A kiss full of the frustration and desire.

I capture his bottom lip between my teeth and suck, arms wrapping around him and gripping him to me. His groan vibrates into my mouth.

“Damn baby, you’re going to kill me.” He barely pulls away, hand sliding through my hair, his voice breathless and raspy. “If you want to make it to class, leave now.”

I teeter on the edge, his deep breaths enticing me to stay, but I can’t. I know I can’t. “Tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” He steps away, nodding down the hall for me to leave. “Wear that skirt.”

The slickness between my thighs makes me wish I’d chosen underwear that morning.

Drew’s gaze travels over me as I slide into his truck. “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” I answer as I put on my seatbelt.

“What do you want? I was thinking we could get delivery and watch a movie back at my place tonight.”

My stomach clenches in expectation, not for the food, but for what we might do. I know we need to talk, but I want to enjoy our relationship some first. “Do you like Chinese food?”

“Yup.” He’s focused on the road, making the turn off campus. “Hunan House Delivers. I’ll call when we get to my place. Now, lift your skirt.”

I almost missed it, he’d spoken it in the same matter of fact tone, but then he turns to me with a wicked grin, and his eyes flick to my skirt and back to the road.

“You said you’d show me.” He reaches over the console and slides his hand over my thigh, along the smooth fabric of the skirt.

“We’re in the car,” I point out like it matters.

“The trucks high up, no one can see in, and I only want to see, for now.” His eyes spark with a challenge and he returns his hand to the steering wheel.

Heated blood rushes to my face, but I gather my skirt in my fingers, raising it inch by inch, encouraged by his pleased expression. His eyelids drop as my skirt lifts.

He takes in a breath when my skirt reaches the very top of my thighs, revealing my lack of panties. “Now open them for me.”

He glances back and forth from the road to me, but those brief glances are heated and hungry and make me squeeze my thighs together at the ache they cause. But I part my legs, just a bit, and shift slightly in the seat to give him a better view.

“Damn baby,” he says in an exhale. “Stay just like that. I’m imagining all the things I could do to you. The different ways I could make you come.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “My fingers, my tongue…”

I clench my legs together, easing the need building there and let the skirt settle a little lower on my thighs.

“How do you feel?” He clears his throat. “Are you sore from yesterday?”

I shake my head, any pain overshadowed by the pulsing desire taking over.

“Good.” He slows his truck as he approaches the house.

TJ and someone else are walking to a car in the driveway.

Drew lets out a sigh and pulls into the spot next to the car. “At least they’re leaving so we’ll have the house to ourselves.”

I reach for the door and crash like I’ve been dropped into an icy lake. I can’t breathe and everything hurts. The driver isn’t looking at me; he’s turned, saying something to TJ as he gets into the passenger seat. But I know him. It’s Chris Kelley—Coach Kelley—and a thousand icicles form in my veins, tearing me open when he glances my way as he pulls out of the parking spot.

I scramble back, away from my window. I don’t know if he saw me, if he recognized me, because I chickened out. I’d dreamed about seeing him—half nightmares—about what I’d say if I saw him, how I’d confront him. But, instead, I hid.

My limbs shake; needle pricks covering my skin as I try to breathe. The car’s gone from site, but I’m still lost in the shock, in the torrent of memories he caused.

Then Drew is there, in front of me, pulling me to the edge of the passenger seat, breaking through my terrible thoughts. “…What the fuck?”

I slide out of the truck, into his arms, only to pull away the second I’m steady on my feet, looking around for what to do now. “I want to go home.”

“What?” He drops his arm that’s reaching for me.

“I can’t stay here.” I wrap my arms around myself, unable to stop the shivers racking my body.

“Why? What the hell is going on?”

“How do you know him? Why was he here?” So many answers fly through my head, each one more painful than the last.

“Who?” He takes a careful step forward with narrowed eyes.

I take a few shaky breaths and another large step back, away from him, as I gesture down the road. “Coach Kelley.”

He shakes his head and swipes his hand over his hair. “The guy TJ left with? Is that who you’re talking about?” He continues when I nod, “I don’t know him, not really. Who is he to you?”

I press my fingers over my eyes, struggling to calm myself. “Are they coming back?”

He moves too quick and surrounds me before I even open my eyes. “Come inside. Talk to me.” His hands move up and down my back as he pulls me into his chest. “I’ll make tea or something stronger if you want. Just calm down, and talk to me.”

“But are they coming back?” I rest my forehead against his chest. My erratic heart steadies some as I breathe him in.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m with you, nothing will happen. You have to tell me what’s wrong, though.” He leads me inside, keeping his arm tight around me.

We pass through the kitchen and living room. He closes us in his bedroom and pulls me to the bed, holding me in his arms as he sits against the headboard.

“Nobody will come in here. You can relax.” His fingers are light as they run through my hair, over my back.

And I do relax, little by little. My bones stop shaking, and I can take even breaths, but there’s still a crushing weight on my chest.

“Do you want something to drink?” His voice vibrates from his chest, against my ear.

I shake my head, not wanting either of us to move yet.

“Who is he?”

His question is like barbwire constricting my heart. I close my eyes against the pain. “He was a gym teacher at my school. And the football coach.”

His fingers still. “He was the high school coach?”

I nod, unsure why it sounds like he knows something. “Why is he here?”

“He…he’s just around.”

I pull back to look at him, sitting up on his bed.

He lets me slide from his arms but grips my hand before I can pull away completely. “It’s not something I’m involved in. I don’t interfere, and I can’t talk about it.”

I nod, understanding the need for secrets.

“He’s not around often, though. But, Brook, why did you freak out?”

Freak out. I drop my head with shame. I freaked out instead of confronting him like I wanted to, like I need to. “He was part of it all.”

“The rumors?”

I nod.

“Your sister?”

I nod, a tear trailing down my face. “She loved him, maybe she still does. I don’t know.” I look up to him. “I didn’t know that. I thought I was helping her.”

“What happened?” He’s so quiet. So calm. And I release it all. Unable to pull back once I start.

“He’d throw parties for the team. London was always invited. I knew something, even when I was in middle school. I knew something was off with it. It just felt wrong. But with him as the coach, the team was winning, and the town loved him. Senior boys were actually being recruited to colleges. And London…” I take a breath. “I told you she’d been messed up after the accident—emotional and angry—well, it started to get better. I knew she was doing drugs. I thought just smoking weed, but I thought it couldn’t be bad since it actually made her nice to me again. When I started high school, I still wasn’t invited to the parties; freshmen usually weren’t since it was the varsity team only. But I saw then, the way London was always around his office outside the locker rooms. She was a junior at the time. But a lot of students were always in and out of his office; everyone thought he was so great. I thought I was just being paranoid, or jealous.”

I drop my eyes to my hands, I had been jealous. Jealous of the way he teased her. It reminded me of our dad.

“But my sophomore year, he was my gym teacher, and I started to see more. His class was more like social time. There’d always be some sport to play or track to run, but he let us just stand and talk if we wanted. He was more like a student than teacher. All the guys, they called me little Shaw or London’s sister, except him. He was the only one that called me Brooklyn. And then mid football season, he actually invited me to one of the football parties. I remember London took me with her, I was hoping it would help us to become closer, like some of the other sisters I knew.” I shake my head, dismissing that dream. “But once I got there, I wanted to leave. Everyone was… not themselves. And it was more than being drunk. It scared me.”

I could picture the scene, and realized it was probably similar to the party he met Tatum at. And he had been younger.

“London was pissed and took me home, warning me not to spoil it for anyone else. That I was invited because they thought they could trust me.”

“But you told?” He guesses.

I glance at him, but there’s no judgment there, only a calm encouragement.

“No, I didn’t, not at first.” I take a deep breath for the rest. “But, like, two weeks later, after another win and London goes to another party, I find her passed out on our front lawn. And she’s a mess, covered in vomit and bruises on her legs and arms. And…” My stomach hurts, the same way it did that morning. “I didn’t think she was alive at first. Our mother wasn’t home, yet. She worked nights at a nursing home. And I panicked. I called 911, and then our mom. They all arrived at once, her, the ambulance, the police. And I told them where I knew she had been. I told them who I thought had given her drugs. I told them what I saw before.”

“Was your sister okay?”

“She had to get her stomach pumped, but yeah she was okay. She denied being at Coach Kelley’s house, though. She named some other friends, and they agreed with her. Everyone said I was making up the stories about the party. Even some parents defended the parties and said they go to them, and it’s nothing but pizza and soda. They said I…” I can’t voice the rumors and continue with the facts. “But the school suspended him while they looked into it, and it ruined the rest of the football season. Everyone blamed me. Especially the team, especially the ones that were counting on being recruited. I shouldn’t have said I knew anything, but I was scared.”

“You were trying to help her.”

I nod. “But as the year went on, and he resigned and disappeared, it all got worse. No one forgot, and for every player that didn’t get a scholarship to their dream school, I got punished in some way. And my sister was the worse. She gave them any information she could so they could make disgusting rumors. I started skipping most days, not wanting to face anyone, even the teachers. And then right after graduation, a group surrounded me in the stairwell at school, seniors who shouldn’t have been in school anymore and London was part of them.”

He tenses and grips my hand, but he remains silent.

“They only pushed me around, but the things they were saying, threatening…” I close my eyes, pushing the fear down before it breaks me. Nothing had happened, I had to remind myself. “A custodian walked in and stopped them. But nothing came of it because they didn’t do anything, and they weren’t students. London left home that day and never came back. But the harassment continued, and my mom agreed it would be best to do an online high school at home.”

“You haven’t heard from her since?”

“Once, she was arrested for drug possession, and my mom found out after the fact. She’d filed a missing persons report when she left, but the police soon dismissed it. They determined she left willingly, and she was over eighteen by then. The cops, they try and help, but everyone’s part of it. Our home still gets vandalized like it’s a right of passage or something.”

“And what about him, the coach, what did he do?” His jaw flexes as he speaks between clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” I shrug. “He denied everything I said and then disappeared, but…” I look at the wall, unsure how to explain. “My sister was still in contact with him, I think. Or at least she claimed. That’s what she was most mad about, that he was gone. That’s what everyone was mad about. But he’s not gone; he’s here. Brody had said so, but I thought he was just talking. It surprised me today, and I don’t know if he saw me. I don’t know if he blames me, too.”

“Stop.” He scoops me up in his arms. “Fuck him. Fuck all of them. He brought that on himself. It was only a matter of time before someone called him out. Just like now. He hasn’t learned a damn thing.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, to anyone.” And here I was, still talking about it.

“He shouldn’t have been fucking with kids.” He squeezes me to him.

I relax against him, soaking up his acceptance but unable to voice my fear. It wasn’t so much him, but my sister that I’m scared of.

“Do you want something to eat now?” He tilts his head towards mine, lips in my hair as I nod. “I’ll call for Chinese, you can choose the movie. Just relax, okay?”

I force a smile as I sit up, letting him off the bed.

“What would you like?” he asks, turning on the TV with a remote.

“Orange chicken.” I ignore the unease still prickling under my skin. This wasn’t high school. People here believed me. It would be okay. Drew believed me.

“Here’s the movies, choose whatever, I’ll be right back.” He hands me the remote so I can scan through the movie list, and then he walks out of the room.

When he returns, we lay in bed and watch The Departed in near silence, besides when the food arrives. It’s a comforting silence that I’m thankful for. His little touches, his arm reaching around me to pull me onto him as we settle in for the movie, all help me shed the anxiety pulsing in me.

I awake to him whispering something to me; the room still dark. I jolt, surprised that I’d fallen asleep.

He’s standing, hands braced on either side of me on the mattress, leaning over me, forcing me to lay down. “Relax, I’ve got practice. I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’ve got class.” I speak into his lips; they’re hovering over mine.

“Skip it.”

“I can’t, we’re practicing for a performance.” I brush over his jaw, still in a daze, he smells so good, feels so good.

He pulls back. “That dance class? You should drop it.”

I slide out of the covers I don’t remember putting on, ignoring his comment. I know who he doesn’t want me to see. “Can you take me back to my dorm on your way.”

“I mean it.”

“I’m not dropping it. It’ll effect my scholarship, and it’s an easy enough class.”

“Fine, come on.” He’s already dressed and picks up a gym bag by his door.

I follow him out of the room to his truck. The sky’s still dark, stars fading.

He drives to my dorm in an unnerving silence. But I refuse to give in.

I’m about to get out when he speaks, “I’m sorry.”

I only stare at him.

“We should have talked more last night.” He reaches his hand out to me. “But…”

“It’s okay.” I grip his hand with mine.

“No, it’s not. I avoided it.”

“I did, too. It was nice to not talk,” I reassure.

“It was.” He leans over and presses a sweet kiss to my temple, surprising and warming me. But his sigh as he pulls away leaves me cold. “I’ll find you after practice.” He releases my hand, and I get out.

I turn back to him before closing the door, a thought striking me. “I have class, though.”

“I know. I’ll see you later. I’ve got to go.”

I close the door, and he pulls away.

A swirl of emotions spirals through me at the sight of Drew outside the arts building in his hat, tight t-shirt, and sweats.

“I told you, I have to go to class.” But I step into his open arm, wrapping mine around his warm body.

“I know.” He keeps me in his embrace as he pulls back to meet my eyes. “I needed to see—” He narrows his eyes as he looks past me. “What the hell is he doing?”

Before I can respond, he walks past me and I turn to see Scott on the steps at the entrance to the building. I hurry to catch up to Drew approaching him.

“I told you to stay away from her. So why are you here?” Drew demands as he steps close to him.

Scott stands his ground, lifting his chin to look up at him. “I don’t answer to you.”

“Stop.” I step in front of a fuming Drew, pushing him back with my hands on his chest. “What are you doing?”

He barely glances at me, shooting daggers at Scott. “He needs to stay away.”

“He’s not here for me. He’s probably here for Tatum.” I turn to Scott, heart stuttering with the anger flowing between them. “Right?”

Scott gives me a look. A look that screams, I’m a sad fool, and his voice is full of pity, “He knows that, Brook.”