2. Dallas

Dallas

W hen I walk into the high school, the heavy weight still feels like it's pushing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. It's not just the jarring conversation with the total stranger either, it's being back here.

I see everyone shuffling down the halls, laughing and reuniting after the summer, happy to be back, but I don't feel even an ounce of that. All I feel is stark unnerving dread. I don't want to be here.

I can't even focus on the news from this morning because my hands are shaking and cold. My legs are unwilling to walk toward my locker because everything inside me is screaming to not be here. I feel eyes on me. I sense their judgment as I finally get my limbs to work enough to make my way to my locker, putting in the combination with trembling fingers.

One more year.

I jolt and damn near have a heart attack when a meaty hand smacks my shoulder, and I spin around, ready to fight, but instantly relax when I see it's just Benny. Thank. Fuck.

Benjamin "Benny" McBride is my best friend and probably the only friend I have these days. He's a junior, but he never really seemed interested in any of the drama that's been the last couple of years of my life. He's just been my friend.

And a great one at that.

"Damn, Dallas. It's just me. You okay?" He looks happy today. That damn bright smile he always wears is plastered on his face, and like me, his hair is covered by a baseball cap. Benny is a little on the small side for our age—especially out here—but don't let that fool ya.

He's incredibly fast out on the football field and one of the top players on our team. My heart does this flip in my chest, thinking about football. How much I used to love it. I used to love a lot of things.

"Sorry," I apologize and put my bag in my locker because I don't feel like carrying it around. I close it and then turn to him. "You look awfully happy to be back here."

He gives me a sympathetic look and smacks me on the shoulder. "You're a senior! Be happy, man. You're gonna rule the damn school."

I look at him like he's lost his mind, but his smile doesn't falter. His never does. "I don't think so, but I'm glad to be getting out of here."

He frowns at that, and I feel a little bad, except while he's my only friend around here, Benny has plenty of friends, and I know he'll be just fine next year without me in the same school.

"You okay? You look a little tired," he says carefully, always trying to be kind. The guy doesn't fit in around here at all. I swear. This town has been flooded with douchebags, and Benny is too damn pure for this world.

I don't know why I don't tell him about the encounter this morning. Okay, that's a damn lie. I know why I don't want to tell him. Benny is the kind of guy who deals with everything head- on, and I know he'd encourage me to deal with things I don't want to deal with.

"I'm fine. Just being back here," I say the half-truth as I look around the crowded halls. My entire body locks up tight when I see Rowan Kincaid barreling down the hall toward us, looking as obnoxious as always with a menacing grin.

"Well, well. I wasn't sure you'd even show up for this last year." His sneer is in my direction.

"At least he's not repeating his junior year, Kincaid." Benny. That guy will always have my back, even with a guy twice his damn size.

Rowan has had it out for me since my family first moved here during my freshman year. He blames me for Coach getting fired, and while I don't like the guy, I can't really disagree with him too much about that. I blame me too.

"Hey, fuck off, McBride," he says to Benny, his eyes cold as he addresses my friend, and all I want to do is get Benny and me out of here.

"Oh, that's some big words. I can't imagine how you failed English."

Rowan raises his middle finger, but Benny just smirks proudly. Never afraid. How the hell is he never afraid? "Whatever," Kincaid mumbles and then heads off down the hall.

My heart is thundering wildly in my chest. I hate that I let them get to me. I wish I could just push it all away, but I can't seem to. I know he'll be back. Benny just shakes his head as Rowan leaves because, to him, it's just a little bit of asshole behavior he has to put up with sometimes. But for me, it's my whole damn life.

"See you at practice?" he asks me hopefully, and I realize his focus is back on me. I go cold all over, thinking about his question. Before I can tell him no, he puts his hands on his hips and cocks his head to the side. "No."

"No what?" I ask, looking away from his face, wanting to run away.

"You can't quit football. It's the last season. It's your senior year." He looks almost distraught, and I'm not used to Benny looking that way. Not at all. Hell, he looks more upset than I do.

I love football. I always have. It's the one thing in this world I'm actually good at, and it's also the one thing in this world my father and I agree on. But I don't know if I can take another year playing.

"Benny," I start, but his stare is cold and hard. Angry.

"No. Don't let them win, Dallas. You can't let them win. You love football." He points at my chest, his voice steely and calm. "You love it."

"I do," I say, unable to argue.

"Then come to practice," he says it so easily, and goddamn him, he makes it sound so simple. So easy. Like there's not people on the team who hate my guts. That the staff doesn't watch me like I might bite them. Like the entire town won't be cursing the number on my jersey.

The town loves football, but it despises number twenty-two.

"I can't," I say weakly.

"You can. You have to," he says, unrelenting. "I swear, I'll be right there by your side. You deserve this." His eyes dart around the hallway, and I have no doubt he's spotted several people looking our way when his gaze meets mine. "Fuck them all. You're a goddamn Big Bend Bear. You fear nothing."

I almost believe him. He has this uncanny ability to pump everyone up, even me, a total doomed soul. "I'll be there," I say, shocking the hell out of myself. I went to bed last night determined to quit football and just keep my head down for my senior year. And of course, all it took was one little speech from Benny to commit to playing this year.

I shouldn't do it. I know that much, but there's a huge part of me, deep inside, that wants to play so damn bad, I can taste it.

So... I guess I'll be at practice tonight.

I guess I'm playing football this year, and so much for keeping my head down because, no doubt, everyone will be watching.

But with the events of this morning, maybe it'll help me hide from another mistake. One that may turn out to be the biggest mistake I ever made.

Yeah, maybe playing football this year will be a really good idea.