33. Chapter 33

A n eerie cloud has hung over our apartment for the past three days. The guys are still mourning the devastating loss they experienced on Saturday. Standing in the student section, my heart broke for them as time passed. I sank to my seat and sat there, mouth ajar, staring at the field. Shock filled the stadium as everyone looked on with disbelief.

My heart hurt for my dad, who gave his everything to his team. My brother, who played his last rivalry game against Lafayette and whose chance at being back-to-back champions vanished. My roommates worked their asses off, even if they refused to think that. And for my boyfriend, who did all that he could but couldn't secure the pass.

In my heart, I knew it wasn't the missed pass that cost us the game. The play ended the game, but there were many more moments that shouldn't have happened.

What's frustrating is that the guys will only get a bowl game, and they are already acting like their season is over—especially JP, whose time at CTU will end with a bowl game instead of a national title game.

Even though life as we know it felt over, we still had to carry on. This week is our final week of classes before finals next week. Assignments are due, lectures are spent reviewing, and studying fills everyone's free time. Factor in the depression weighing heavy on my roommates, and it's as if I live alone.

Cranking the volume on my Jeep, I let MGK play as my soundtrack while I drive from campus to the sports complex. Tonight is the charity intramural basketball tournament. With scheduling conflicts and the league only taking teams with winning records, the tournament consists of eight teams playing a single elimination tournament in one evening. Based on the schedule, it will be a long and exhausting night, but it's for a good cause.

Shifting the gear into park, I reach for my gym bag and step out into the evening air. Cars coast through the lot, searching for a place to park. Doors shut and locks sound as I walk toward the sports complex. Pulling open the door, I'm met with a small line of people who are being directed to pay for admittance. The entry fee and any donations local businesses have contributed to the community center are being donated. Avoiding the line, I nod at the front desk clerk, who recognizes me from the hours spent on the court. He returns the gesture and wishes me luck as I pass by.

Inside the gymnasium, a cacophony of sounds greets me. Students file onto the metal bleachers scattered around the courts. Music plays from the speakers as an announcer walks around the gym, providing commentary and cracking jokes. The sound of basketballs hitting the court and sneakers squeaking provides another layer to the atmosphere. It's loud, it's chaotic, but it's going to be a fun night.

My eyes scan the courts until I land on Kyrie's tall frame, warming up on the back left court. Weaving through the sea of people, I sit on the metal bench. The coldness sends a shiver through my body.

"S'up, girl? Ready to ball?" Kyrie asks as he dribbles the ball toward the bench .

Reaching inside my bag, I slip off my street shoes in exchange for my basketball shoes. Leaning down, I tighten the laces as I look up at Kyrie. "Hell yeah. It's going to be a long night."

"I hope you brought your jump shot," Dylan muses from where he joins me on the edge of the bench.

"You know it."

"Thatta girl." Dylan tightens his laces as we wait for the rest of our team to show.

Standing to my feet, I bend down to touch my toes as I feel the delicious stretch of my hamstring muscles. Leaning from one foot to the other, I allow the stretch to deepen until the muscles feel relaxed.

"All right, all right," the announcer says as he approaches me.

Pausing my warm-ups, I place my hands on my hips as I watch Monty, our announcer, step closer to me. His entire being is upbeat and full of energy, making him the perfect emcee. "We've got CTU royalty with us tonight. Bret Campbell, can you tell us what's your go-to excuse for missing a shot?"

"I don't miss." My words come out as confident and cocky, just as I intended, which causes Monty to step back.

"Oh shit, girl, you just went there." Flashing him a wink, he steps around me, asking Dylan a question as I resume warming up. It's not long before the buzzer sounds, and we step onto the court.

The student referee stands at half-court, but before he has a chance to toss the ball into the air, the crowd erupts in chaos. There are cheers and shouts, clapping and whistling. Following the noise, I find half a section filled with my friends. JP, Tyler, Crew, and Grant stand shirtless, their chests spelling out my name, as Brynn, Chloe, Cody, and his roommates stand holding signs. A soft chuckle leaves my mouth while tears fill my eyes as I read the signs they hold.

"You're Dunkin' Awesome!"

"Keep Calm And Break Ankles!"

"My Friend Is A Real Baller!"

This is everything I've ever wished for—friends who feel like family, who welcome you with open arms and cheer with you. Transferring to CTU has been the biggest blessing. I've found myself while creating a life I'm proud of. I took back my life and found my happiness.

I give a subtle wave to my fans as I line up around the center circle. With the ball tossed in the air, the game officially started.

For the next three hours, I push my body to the limit. While the games aren't that deep—it is intramural—the desire to win kicks in every time I step foot on the court. After we trounced the first team, our opponents only got stronger as the evening progressed. Chest heaving, I fight the exhaustion as I guzzle down water. I thought I was in shape, I really did, but after two back-to-back games, my body is feeling it. It's a welcoming pain, but a pain no less.

"You good, Campbell?" Kyrie asks from where he stands in front of me.

"I thought I was in shape, but damn, that last team was tough."

"You are good, don't doubt that. It's like they had some kind of freaky superpowers. I don't remember them being that good the last time we played them," Dylan says from beside me.

"I'm glad I wasn't the only one who thought that."

The gym lights gradually start to dim around us as the crowd's murmurs interrupt our conversation. As darkness and shadows cast over the room, I laugh to myself at how serious the rec department and student activities committee took tonight's charity tournament. It's been a fun and lively environment, and I cannot wait for next semester's league to start.

A hush falls over the crowd as a thrill of anticipation fuels the air .

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the main event." Monty pauses as the sound of bells ringing plays over the speaker. "Who's ready to witness a helluva championship game?"

The roar of the crowd echoes off the wall as a thrill seeps into my bones. This is what I miss most about playing—the energy that courses through the crowd as the tension builds for what's to come. And even though this entire league has been for fun, I appreciate the seriousness all of the athletes have expressed. While it is fun, the competitiveness runs deep.

"We've got an epic matchup tonight between our top two teams in the league. If you've been here before, you know these players bring the talent. So, let's turn up the volume, fill this gym with energy, and give these athletes the atmosphere they deserve. Now on your feet while we announce our players. Let's get loud, CTU!"

Chaos ensues as the fans feed off Monty's vibrant energy. Strobe lights flash as our opponents are announced first.

Flashes of red, white, and blue light up the court, moving with the beat of the hype music blaring from the speakers. As Monty makes his way down our lineup of players, I sit on the bench, watching my knee bounce. It's not from nerves but from the adrenaline ready to break free. My second wind is here, and I'm ready to put on a hell of a show. My friends showed up to support me, and a show is what they'll get.

"Put your hands together for Bret Campbell."

Jumping to my feet, I jog across the court to where my teammates are gathered at the foul line. I hear my name shouted as JP's booming voice can be heard above the crowd.

The shiny wax floor shimmers from the play of lights, each flash heightening the anticipation. It was a visual symphony, setting the stage for a great matchup .

As the gym lights flicker back on, my team huddles together as Kyrie hypes us up. With the blow of the whistle, it's game time.

Stepping foot inside The Eagles Nest, I'm met with cheers from my friends.

"Champion!" JP shouts from his cupped hands.

Shaking my head, I can't help but feel the wide smile spread across my face, along with a blush from being the center of attention. Kyrie nudges my shoulder as we walk through the almost empty bar to where my friends are gathered.

The championship game was a battle from tip-off to the final buzzer. While both teams wanted to win, mainly for bragging rights—but also for The Eagles Nest gift card, it was a lighthearted game as everyone cracked jokes and poked fun at each other. At one point, my ribs hurt from laughing so hard instead of exertion. Our team ended up winning by ten points, but the game went back and forth, which kept the crowd fully involved.

JP sent out the bat signal, informing us that we were all going to The Eagles Nest to celebrate and that he wouldn't accept any excuses for anyone not to show up. Even with my body exhausted and covered in sweat, I couldn't fight the elation at the invite.

"I'm glad you joined our team. You're a helluva baller, Campbell."

Nudging his shoulder back, I smile up at him. "Thanks for letting me. It's been a weird year for me, and this was the best therapy."

"Ball will do that to you."

Niko, Cody's roommate, stands as he and Kyrie clap backs. Moving around the table to an empty seat, my brother reaches his fist out for me to bump. "Sure was fun watching you play again. I still don't understand why you didn't take that scholarship."

"Whoa, hold up," Tyler interjects from where he's sitting across the table, a beer bottle in front of him. There are a few buckets spread across the table. "You had a scholarship, and you turned it down?"

Shrugging, I reach inside for an aluminum bottle. Carrying the bottle, I twist the top and take a long pull of the ice-cold, hoppy liquid as I sit between Brynn and Hudson, another of Cody's roommates. "I wanted to keep ball to myself. I didn't want to go to South Carolina and lose the love and enjoyment of the game."

"Shit, South Carolina," Hudson whistles.

"Besides, if I would've gone to South Carolina, I wouldn't be here with you guys."

"Here! Here!" Brynn shouts, lifting her water glass into the air. Bottles are tapped as B slouches into a pout. "Someone drink a beer for me, please."

"I've got you, B." Cody tips his bottle in her direction.

"You're my favorite, Cody." She winks as he blows her a kiss back.

"Don't make me call my boy," JP chimes up.

"Oh, please do." Brynn smirks. "I love jealous Q."

"Jealous Q, probably got you into your current situation," Grant snarks.

Conversation flows as platters of food are brought to our table. I don't hold back as I pile on a huge portion of nachos, mini tacos, and wings. Hunger has taken over my body as she craves sustenance. From where Brynn sits, she taps around on her phone, which is connected to the bar's music system. It definitely pays to know Brynn and her connection to the owner. She plays an alternative song from the early 2000s with everyone bopping their heads.

For the first hour of the night, everything is perfect .

But, like all good things, everything must come to an end.

A heaviness falls over my lids as exhaustion threatens to take me under. We've been at the bar for two hours, but no one has made the move to leave. Instead, we are dancing to the music Brynn has queued up for us from the bar's TouchTones.

For the first time this school year, everyone is at ease. The stress of tomorrow will wait.

I watch Brynn throw her head back in laughter as her round belly sticks out. She's thirty-one weeks, and in a few short weeks, life as she knows it will change.

My brother stands among his teammates as they chat among themselves, occasionally jumping in to dance with us girls. He's soaking up his time with his friends—his brothers—because their season is quickly approaching the end, along with his time at CTU.

Crew glances over every once in a while. His eyes scan my features as a smile plays on his lips. The movement is subtle but reassuring nonetheless. Our time of keeping our relationship a secret is almost over. Even though dread pools in my stomach as the conversation with my brother—since he deemed me off-limits—will no doubt be rocky.

At the end of the day, my big brother only wants what's best for me, and it's safe to say that Crew is what is best. His heart is so big, and he loves without question. I've witnessed the love he has for his family and his friends. He protects the people he cares about and never takes his time with them for granted. He's learned the hard way that tomorrow isn't always promised .

I watch Chloe flail her arms around, doing some crazy dance she saw on social media. I can't help the bark of laughter that erupts deep inside me. Chloe is the most down-to-earth girl I've ever met. She has such a soft and kind heart. I've loved getting to know her this semester. Her eyes flick to her boyfriend's, and I swear the love they share can be felt in the room. That's how powerful it is.

Brynn groans. "I've got to pee again. I swear this little bean enjoys jumping on my bladder."

"I've got to go too!" I shout over the music as I turn on shaky legs. I've had more than my fair share of beers tonight. But with a nearly empty bar and my favorite people around me, I figured, why the hell not? Tonight, I'm letting my hair down—figuratively—and enjoying college.

"You okay, Bret?" Brynn intertwines her arm with mine as she leads me to the bathroom.

I tip my head down and rest it on the side of hers. "I'm wonderful."

"That's my girl." Pushing open the door, we are met with a clean but dingy bathroom. There are only two stalls in the women's room, and I let Chloe and Brynn go first. Standing in front of the sink, I splash cool water on my makeup-free face. I stare at my reflection as the droplets run down my heated skin. My eyes look brighter and more alive. Even tinged pink, the color has come back into my features.

Gone is the scared little girl too afraid to look over her shoulder. The time spent in therapy and working through my struggles has paid off. For the first time in a very long time, I feel happy, energetic, and full of life. The drive to chase my dreams is back.

A buzzing in my pocket pulls my attention away from my self-reflection. Sliding the phone out, I glance at the lit screen, fully expecting to find a flirty text from Crew .

A chill runs down my spine as I read the notification alerting me of a new message from Unknown Number. Swiping a trembling finger across the screen, I unlock the display and face the monster lurking at the edge of consciousness.

Unknown Number: You thought you could run and hide from me, little kitten. I'll be seeing you soon.

Unknown Number: *photo attached*

The attached photo was taken from the tournament and posted on CTU's social media channels. There I stand front and center, surrounded by my teammates holding the charity check from tonight's game. I don't understand how he found the photo. Does he have some kind of alert set up for my face?

Feeling the ground shift beneath me, I clutch the sink with my hands—one still holding my phone. The room starts to shrink as I'm flooded with memories of how I used to feel with Chad. My vision blurs with unshed tears as I work to keep the rising bile from projecting onto the mirror. The mirror in which I was just admiring how far I'd come. In a matter of one single text, I'm thrust right back into that scared, cowardly girl.

I can almost hear his smooth, charming voice as it spews venom at me. His manipulative words were always his weapon of choice. My hands tremble, the weight of the phone almost burning my hand.

How could I be so stupid to allow myself to be photographed?

How could I be so reckless?

I practically gave him a tracking number, pinging straight to my location.

Blood pumps through my veins as my heart pounds. The beats are coming so aggressively that it feels like it could beat out of my chest.

Seconds feel like hours as my brain spirals with all the ways I could have prevented this.

Why did I have to come here? Why didn't I run farther? I should've gone someplace across the country—like Vermont—someplace where I knew no one.

Instead, I practically invited a monster into this incredible group of people. Their family is no longer safe, and it's all because of me.

Chad has never shown any physical violence. I don't think he has the balls to hit me, but desperate times lead to desperate measures. For the last four months, I've kept him away from his kitten. W hat if I only escalated things?

What if he comes after my brother? Or Crew? Oh God, what if he comes after Brynn? I just unleashed a monster and put her precious unborn baby in danger.

A vise wraps around my chest, the pressure building with every passing second. Each breath comes in shallow, rapid succession as if my lungs won't expand. Heart pounding erratically, in wild frenzied beats, sends shockwaves through my entire body.

"Bret! Bret!" Brynn's panicked voice barely slips past my pounding pulse. Chloe reaches out, and I can feel her delicate fingers as she tries to get my attention. My head lolls, and my vision rolls as I fight to focus on the girls. With icy fingers, the anxiety grips my heart, sending cold, numbing fear outward.

"Crew." His name comes out in a nearly silent, raspy voice.

"What, honey?"

"Crew," I say between pants. "I need Crew."

Brynn turns and rushes out of the bathroom as Chloe stands beside me. Her mouth moves, but I can't make out anything she's saying. The pulse throbbing in my temples blocks out all the noise around me. The weight in my chest grows heavier as if someone is stacking boulders on my lungs. The suffocating feeling consumes me.

Black dots fill my vision as the edges begin to blur, darkening with each fight for air. Every breath feels like a struggle, and my lungs cannot get enough air from the shallow breaths. The anxiety courses through my veins in sharp points, sending ice along its path as my body shakes with fear.

I try to focus on the breathing techniques my therapist taught me, trying to get my body to relax, but it's easier said than done.

I try to ground myself in the present with each breath, but nothing works. I am stuck, sinking, drowning in fear. The pounding of my heart and the weight in my chest are constant reminders of the terror that lurks in the shadows, waiting to pounce.