Jaded by Tijan Page B

him.
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    “Why
    not?”
    I looked in surprise and saw that he was serious.
    “Whatever, Bryce. You have scouts all this week.” I moved to leave, but he
    caught my arm again.
    “What?” I asked again, breathless.
    “I’ll still play. Let’s skip. Come on.”
    “You won’t play and you know it.” His coach was strict, which was needed with Bryce. Coach Bewer was also a pseudo father figure to Bryce, including punishment and discipline. The soccer field was probably the only place that Bryce didn’t get away with our games.
    “Seriously,
    Sheldon.”
    “Seriously, Bryce,” I said firmly. “No.” I slipped out of his hold and was outside before he could drag me back inside.
    Bryce followed reluctantly and shot me a dark look as he sat in the passenger seat.
    Leisha just watched us both warily. She was like a breath of fresh air.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
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    Bryce didn’t comment the entire drive back towards school, but it wasn’t a long drive until I turned the engine off.
    A group of students stood just outside the school’s doors. Some smoked, some just chatted.
    “There’s Yerling,” Bryce noted and gestured towards the door. Sure enough,
    Yerling and his posse stood amongst the group.
    I sat back with the keys in my hand. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be around for whatever was going to happen.
    Leisha had moved to the door handle, but she paused and waited for us.
    “Go,” I said briskly and she left. Bryce and I both watched as Chad stepped to the front of the group. He threw his cigarette to the ground and watched my car. His eyes trailed to Leisha, but he let her pass without a second look.
    He still looked bloodied. A large bruise had formed at his jaw and at the corner of his eye. His nose was swollen and his eye was bloodshot.
    “Holy,” I murmured. “He looks awful.”
    Bryce bristled beside me.
    “Your knuckles didn’t look like they’d done that.”
    Bryce didn’t comment on that, but he said instead, “Let’s go back to your place.”
    He grinned charmingly, “You can put ice on my knuckles.”
    “It’s not the only thing that needs ice.”
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    He grinned faintly, but moved across and kissed the underside of my jaw.
    “Seriously.” I put a hand on his chest, intending to push him away.
    He slid a hand down the inside of my thigh until I firmly pushed him back.
    “What is up with you?” I demanded, seriously. “Contrary to what you might
    think, I don’t spend my days on my back.” At the glint of amusement, I added, “Or straddling some guy or on my knees. What is going on with you?”
    “Nothing,” he said tightly and settled back in his seat.
    I watched him, concerned.
    “Bryce,” I said softly. No more games.
    He glanced away, but I heard his breath of surrender.
    A moment later, he relented, “I don’t need to be at practice anymore.”
    “Why
    not?”
    “Because I’m off the team.”
    “What?!”
    “It’s not like that,” he said hastily. “I already got the scholarship. They don’t want me to play high school anymore.”
    Oh.
    I sat back stunned. And then I cried out, “That’s not fair. They can’t do that.”
    He’d miss everything. His senior games, play-offs, even state—and that’s if they got there without him.
    “They already did. Dad met with them last night and finalized everything.”
    “You’re really not playing for the rest of the year.”
    He
    nodded.
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    “How’s your coach feel about that?”
    Bryce’s jaw clenched and he replied tightly, “He’s not happy.”
    “Did you go to practice last night?”
    “Yeah, but I didn’t need to.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Because I didn’t want to be having this conversation,” he pointed out.
    “Bryce, you’re such a shit.”
    He
    chuckled.
    “Does Corrigan know?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Corrigan knows and I didn’t?”
    “Because of this. You’re acting like a girl.”
    “I’m acting like your