Chapter 3 I’m Fucked
Kai
The ball curves exactly where I want it.
I watch it hit the back of the net. I turn away before it even settles and keep running without celebrating.
There’s no point. I’ve been going at it for one hour and I have no plans of stopping anytime soon.
Training is the one part of my day that I enjoy despite how intense it is.
Okay, I love other things too.
Let’s just say I love anything that keeps me active. I do have good stamina.
Hehe.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and pick up my pace for another lap.
My kit is soaked through. Dark grey joggers, the university’s navy training top with the captain’s armband just above my left elbow.
As I come around the far end of the pitch I catch movement near the benches on the side.
My gaze shifts slightly but I don’t stop moving.
Three girls are sitting near the benches with their phones already pointed at the pitch.
The second I run past, one of them nearly drops hers.
I slow just slightly as I pass them.
Then I wink.
All three of them squeal at the same time.
I pick up my pace before they even quiet down like it’s nothing.
It actually is. Watching them lose their shit is just fun. I’m not gonna lie.
An hour and ten minutes later I finally take a break.
I walk to the edge of the pitch where my bag is sitting against the barrier, grab my water bottle, and drink half of it in one go. The cold hits the back of my throat and spreads through my chest and for a second I can breathe normally.
I drop onto the grass, stretch one leg out, and reach for my phone.
Three missed messages. One from Jamie. Two from Logan.
Why the hell is Jamie texting me when we’re here together?
Logan has an afternoon lecture so he missed training.
I open Logan’s first.
“Grades are in. You might wanna check yours.”
I sit up a little straighter and open the student portal.
It takes a few seconds to load. I stare at the screen while it does.
Then it loads.
Abnormal Psychology. F.
I stare at the screen.
Then I read it again.
Abnormal Psychology. F.
What the fuck is Abnormal Psychology?
I scroll up trying to find when I even registered for it. I have a vague memory of filling out a course selection form at the last possible minute before the deadline closed. I picked random things just to fill the required slot. I didn’t even look too hard at what any of them actually were.
Abnormal Psychology.
I don’t even know what that is.
“Fuck.”
Jamie drops down onto the grass beside me, still breathing hard from drills, hair stuck to his forehead. He leans over immediately trying to see the screen.
I turn it slightly away.
“You look like someone just ran over your dog,” he says.
Jamie’s eyes drop to my pants.
“Your actual dog.” He points at my dick laughing.
I look down.
Bastard.
“What happened?” He asks.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“That’s not a nothing face. That’s very much a something face.” He grabs the phone straight out of my hand before I can stop him.
There’s a full second of silence.
Then…
“YOU GOT AN F?”
I snatch the phone back. “Say it louder. I’m sure the whole school didn’t hear you clearly.”
He turns to look at me with an expression that’s between horrified and trying not to laugh.
“How the fuck did that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you not speak to the professor? Sort out your schedule like everyone else does?”
“I didn’t even know I was registered for this course.”
Jamie stares at me. “You’re kidding right?”
“I wish I were.”
“Even I can’t make a mistake like that.”
Shit. That’s even worse than getting an F.
“It shouldn’t be that big a deal. You can talk to the professor I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“That’s too much work. Can’t I just drop it?”
Jamie pulls out his own phone and checks something. “Registration closed two weeks ago.”
Great.
I press my head back and stare up at the grey sky.
“Kai!”
I hear my name loud from the other end of the pitch.
Coach Reid.
Both Jamie and I turn in the direction the voice comes from.
Jamie sits up. “Man, you're cooked.”
“Shut up Jamie.”
I stand up and walk to the far end of the pitch where Coach Reid is waiting with his arms crossed. The expression on his face already shows I’m not gonna like the conversation.
Coach Reid is a big man. Broad shoulders, steady, the kind of person who doesn’t need to raise his voice to make a point. He’s been coaching university football for fifteen years and he looks like every single one of his students has taught him something.
“Mercer.”
“Coach.”
“Grades came in.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I know.”
“Then you know what I’m about to say.”
I say nothing.
He looks at me for a moment. Not angry exactly. More like disappointed. “You’re my best player. You know that. You’re also captain of this team which means you’re supposed to be setting a standard.” He pauses.
“I’ll sort it,” I say before he continues.
He studies me for another second. “Championship is coming. I need you in that field. But I also need you to handle your business off it. One F tips your average and I don’t have a choice but to take you off. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He unfolds his arms. “Sort it out.”
I nod and turn to walk back.
“Mercer.”
I stop.
“I mean it.”
I show up to the lecture hall twenty minutes early because I have no idea where it is and spend fifteen of those minutes finding it.
I walk into the large room. I find a seat somewhere in the middle, drop my bag, and sit back.
I can feel the gaze of others follow me as I walk in.
“Is that Kai Mercer?”
A girl two rows up turns around. Then the one beside her. Then the whispers start moving like a wave through the room.
That’s actually him.
Is he in this class?
Since when?
Has anyone even seen him in a lecture before?
I lean back in my chair and say nothing.
Sitting still in one position is the worst punishment anyone can give me. I feel restless.
People keep walking into the room.
I check my phone, check the time, and put it back in my pocket.
The door opens again.
The room settles almost immediately. The kind of quiet that happens automatically when the right person walks in.
I look up.
And everything in me goes completely still.
Same black hair.
Same glasses.
Same calm expression.
My stomach drops.
No way.
He sets his notes on the desk and turns toward the class.
It’s the same face I’ve been seeing in my head for three days without fully understanding why.
I’m fucked.
No literally.
