Shutout Read online

  “It’s more fun for these little bitches to make a bigger deal about it.”

  I point my index finger at her. “Exactly, you just made my point.” I turn on my heel to reach for my water bottle, but Taylor halts me with her hand.

  “Hold on a second, Boyd.” I roll my eyes, shifting my weight in irritation. “You’re not going to skip out on this. I’m your best friend here.”

  “And I also have a best friend back in Michigan.”

  She waves her hand dismissively in the air. “Yeah, Mia, whatever. But you live here now.”

  “And I used to live there.”

  “Don’t be an asshole, Sawyer.”

  “Don’t be a selfish bitch, Taylor.” My hand covers my mouth as soon as the words escape, my eyes also protruding from my sockets.

  God, my anxiety and the suspense of my Colson problem is turning me into a real shithead.

  A sudden roar of laughter leaves Taylor’s lips as she knocks into my side playfully with her elbow. “See, you’re lucky your my best friend or I would’ve punched you in the throat. Which means you gotta say for prom.”

  I’m about to tell her for the third time that my plane ticket is bought and paid for until she stills.

  “Oh, shit,” Taylor mutters. I begin to turn to look, but she stops me with, “Don’t.”

  So I don’t.

  “Did you finish your cookie?”

  My brows furrow as I look down at it in my hand. “No.”

  “Continue eating it and talk about prom.” She walks pass me to the table with all the bake goods.

  “Taylor, I’m not—”

  “Do it.”

  I sigh. “Oh, Taylor, what color dress did you pick out?” My tone is slow, laced with sarcasm and boredom. Why do I associate with people who don’t listen to simple things I say?

  Taylor forces a loud chuckle. “Oh, you know how indecisive I am.” She knocks into my back, sending me stumbling a step forward.

  Geezus.

  I’m about to tell her to lay off the sugar when she continues rambling.

  “But that gold dress you tried on yesterday, holy shit...Ryan Stuber is going to die when he sees it. I heard him talking with his buddies in my Chemistry class that he was thinking about asking you.”

  “Who the heck is Ryan—” Taylor’s arm wraps around my shoulder to shut me up.

  “Follow along,” she whispers, then her voice gets louder. “Fuck, he is so hot.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “He sure is.”

  She looks over at me. “Think you’ll say yes?” Her fingertips dig into my flesh, and I wince when I don’t respond quick enough for her crazy ass.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I seeth through my teeth and in her face.

  “Colson is standing behind us.”

  My forehead puckers again.

  Is. She. Out. Of. Her. Ever. Loving. Mind?

  I’m not looking to get a reaction out of Colson nor am I looking to make him jealous either. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where to find me. The town is only a ten-mile radius, wouldn’t take too long.

  I drill holes into my best friend’s face with my eyes. “You must be freaking—”

  Taylor glances down at her bare wrist. “Don’t you have that other event you have to go to?”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, wait…” Her face beams in a broad smile. “That’s later tonight.”

  “What’s later tonight?”

  “Remember Truth or Dare?”

  I scoff. “I’m not playing that again.”

  “Great, because I signed us up for Spin the Bottle later.”

  Seated in a plastic folding chair, my arms are crossed as I glare at Gavin Sheston on the other side of the circle. He shakes his head and scoffs, averting his gaze from mine.

  I told him not to put my name in a hat or anywhere else because I wasn’t doing this. He proceeded with “it’s for our fundraiser.”

  I asked if Coach Anderson or Gordon knew about it. He continued with “are you out of your fucking mind, don’t be such a drag.”

  Who the hell even uses that term anymore?

  What makes matters even worse is that, not only has every single one of my teammates on the softball team and the baseball team decided to do this, but they included a lot of the football players and cheerleaders as well.

  Regardless, this is stupid.

  I swear I’m going to have an underlying condition about my parents bringing me to this stupid town when the whole teenage population here is as dumb as a bag of rocks. All they want to do is dumb ass and uncomfortable things because if you don’t keep the teens in Freemont occupied, they come up with things like Spin the Bottle for our fundraiser.

  How does this work, you ask?

  Well, if you don’t make out with your said “kissing buddy” that a bottle chooses, you have to pay in fifty bucks toward the fundraiser funds.

  If you kiss over the allowed time, it’s only twenty bucks.

  If you use tongue, it’s a dollar. A. FREAKING. DOLLAR!

  This town is so half ass-backward, I feel like I just entered another episode of The Outer Limits.

  There are no lucky numbers that you draw from a hat like we did with Truth or Dare, no, you just get picked on randomly by none other than my ex-boyfriend.

  I’m hoping my glare fends him off because if he picks me first I’m going to have a nice little chat with Taylor about how I can have him cock blocked for the rest of the year with an incurable STD.

  “Any volunteers of who wants to go first?” a redheaded guy named Trevor asks next to Gavin. He scans the crowd, looking for anyone who might indicate they do only to find nothing but crickets. Then points his finger at a pretty blonde who’s surrounded by a bunch of other girls. “How about you? You’re from the swim team, right?”

  She nods and pushes herself from the ground to stand. “Yep.”

  Trever leers. “Awesome. Ladies first.”

  The guys gather around, her spin lands on a stocky football player and the crowd of immature teens cheer “owws” and clap.

  “This is stupid,” I recite next to Taylor. “You all should be institutionalized.” Taylor cackles next to me, making me want to smack her on the back of the head.

  “There is a purpose to my madness,” she relays. “I promise.”

  “I already know what it is,” I state then look over at her. “And I’m not going to make him jealous with some stupid ass game.”

  She lifts her shoulders. “Then he’ll have no problem when you kiss some other dude.”

  “Which will cause more issues.”

  “Not if he doesn’t care or wants to be with you. We’re forcing his hand.”

  “I don’t want to force his hand,” I stress. “Can’t you just leave it and me alone?”

  “What kind of best friend would I be if I ignored what you really wanted? You both are stupid, he acts like he can’t have you and a career.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want me like that. What are you, a matchmaker?”

  “Taylor, c’mon!” Trevor hollers through our conversation. “You’re up!” Taylor lets out a groan and stands, making her way to the middle of the circle where a piece of plywood lays with a wine bottle on it.

  Everyone settles in a circle, sitting on the grass and some chairs. The night is cool and oddly quiet like we’re about to watch some miracle that Taylor is going to pull out of her ass.

  She hunches down, giving the bottle a good spin, then watches it twirl around. I look heavenward, half hoping she gets Bobbie Hanson, while the other half of me hopes it’s someone she can’t stand. She deserves it for getting all the girls on our softball team to con me into staying because I need to be “part of the team,” and “we only have a few weeks left together.”

  So here I sit, watching my so-called best friend look over her right shoulder in the direction where the neck of the bottle is pointing...right in the direction of Colson Hayes.

  A cold chill shoots up my spi
ne, lining my skin with goosebumps. I didn’t notice him before, wasn’t aware that he stayed. I looked, a little more than I should’ve, but when Taylor had us fake talk about prom, he just walked by our bake table not even stealing a glance.

  Now my perspective is my best friend resuming to straightening her back and his face solemn as a brick wall. Taylor quirks her head toward me, a saddened expression highlighting her face.

  I force a weak smile.

  She isn’t doing this maliciously, she didn’t choose him.

  This is a stupid game.

  Colson takes a step forward, confident and at ease. His facade, the normal badass who doesn’t give a shit about anything. The same boy who’ll ruin your life with one sentence. The one who has the balls to even do this when he knows I’m here with my best friend.

  Taylor slowly shakes her head, but Colson ignores it, doesn’t even care. His black Freemont baseball T-shirt plays off his dark hair. His baggy gray sweatpants makes him look like he never puts too much effort into how he looks, but it doesn’t stop that he is hot as hell.

  The crowd of teens bustle amongst each other and a looming pair of eyes burn through my peripheral vision. I tear my gaze away from them, meeting Gavin’s blank stare.

  He looks…sorry? No malice glazing over his eyes and the usual smirk that makes me regret that I dated him in the first place.

  It reminds him of us.

  Of Moonlight Ridge where I publicly picked Gavin over Colson. I publicly dismissed him, picking the ultimate and trusting the wrong guy.

  Shit, were either of them trustworthy?

  At least Colson never openly dated me just to cause my heart to shatter. But then again, it feels like that right now. I feel the fracture, my chest aching at the idea of having to see Colson kiss Taylor or anyone else for that matter.

  Colson’s hand reaches around Taylor’s neck. Her hand falls to his chest. His mouth moving only inches away from hers and, without hesitation or a second thought about me being present for all of it, he kisses her.

  His eyes clamp shut, I see his fingertips peak from her jet black hair, and I accept my punishment with the decision he made.

  He doesn’t love me.

  Maybe he was beginning to but was able to overcome it. I’d like to learn that trick.

  Because I was in love with Colson Hayes.

  The biggest asshole of them all.

  Kissing Taylor was the test of all tests. The one where I either pussyed out because I was falling for a redhead, who sat still on a plastic chair with her eyes latched onto me, or I played the game to find out for myself if kissing someone else after telling a girl that I was in love with her would make my body react in any specific way.

  The answer was disheartening all in its own. I’ve never left myself susceptible to hurt, whether it be emotionally or mentally. Physically, I would heal, that’s why I got into fights all the time for money and sport because that was my outlet.

  A stupid ass outlet because I could bust something I’d need for baseball, but it was that or burn something down. Arsen wasn’t really something I wanted to delve into with the repercussions of cops, a criminal record, and maybe some time in juvie.

  Hard pass.

  The moment my lips touch Taylor’s though, it takes everything in me not to recoil back.

  She isn’t disgusting, I like Taylor even though she never knows when to shut the hell up. She’s almost the female version of me—hard ass, doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, and comes from some family shit of her own. You’d think kissing a similar version of yourself wouldn’t be so bad, but it’s like tasting your own medicine that you dish out to people everyday. Acidic, stomach turning, leaving a vile taste in your mouth.

  But I didn’t want to embarrass Taylor, and I wasn’t giving fifty bucks to these ass clowns for baseball jerseys for a team I wasn’t even going to play with after graduation. I worked hard for my shit, saving up for college in case my scholarships don’t come through with any side job I could get in between baseball and school.

  Meanwhile, my brain is screaming at me to let Taylor go. That Sawyer probably left already and is never going to speak to me again.

  I’m on, like...strike a million right now with that girl, and I can’t keep pulling her in then pushing her away. I just need to let her go.

  Forever.

  Taylor breaks our kiss first, thank fuck, and her arm comes up across her face, but she thinks twice about wiping the taste of me off her lips. Instead, she hits me with an icy stare with flames shooting through her irises.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” she snarls in a low tone.

  “Because I didn’t want to humiliate you, number one, and two, I’m not hawking up fifty bucks to these losers.”

  “I think Sawyer is worth a little more than fifty dollars, don’t you, Hayes?”

  I fix her with a scowl. “She has nothing to do with this. You spun.”

  “I didn’t use my voodoo magic to make it land on you.”

  “Conversation over, I guess.”

  “You’re a dickhead.”

  “You’re stating the obvious.”

  Taylor shakes her finger at me like a disciplinary mother. “Don’t do it. You’re shoving her away, and she’s not like the other little whores you’re accustomed to.”

  I take a step toward her, clenching my fists at my sides. “Don’t fucking worry about my life and what I do in it.”

  Sawyer’s name is hollered in the background of our bantering, and I glance over Taylor’s shoulder to see Gavin hunched over. His elbows laid over his knees, rubbing his palms together.

  This is a fucking game.

  A game of truths and lies. I feel my ex-”bestie” taunting me from yards away.

  He wants Sawyer and I both to feel this. The public exhibit, the burning feeling in our chest while we mesh lips with different people.

  I know I just did it to Sawyer, it’s not my first time, but I did it for my own reasons.

  Sawyer, she’ll do it out of pettiness.

  Shit, I deserve it.

  My rationality pleads for me to let this go. To give Sawyer what she needs so she can move on without me. She merits this, and I earned it. I drew her in to throw her out at the end.

  But that was before.

  Before everything changed with each blink of her beautiful green eyes. She switched the fucking roles and drew me in. I just needed for her to throw me out now.

  Taylor strides away from me, speaking to Sawyer while touching her arm softly. Sawyer nods, emotionless, giving me nothing to work with.

  Good, my devil states. She is a roadblock we don’t need.

  I back out of the circle, watching her lower herself to spin the bottle. Her shorts ride up, exposing long, tan legs, and I pull my gaze away.

  I need to leave.

  Nothing about me staying here will do any good for the rest of the school year. It won’t change a fucking thing for me. It’ll just be torture watching her, experiencing it all over again just like at Moonlight Ridge. I don’t need to know where the bottle lands, all I know is that it won’t be on me.

  The scraping sound of glass against wood stops, jerking my eyes toward her again.

  You. Need. To. Leave.

  My body refuses to budge, staying rooted to the ground against my better judgment. My conscious orders me to make sure she’ll be okay. That some dickhead won’t be grabbing her ass or squeezing her tits just because he thinks he can over a bottle spin or a game. Just because I can’t have her or be with her doesn’t mean I can’t look out for her from afar.

  You are such a bullshiter.

  I shake my thoughts away just as a barrel-chested motherfucker breaks from the crowd and moves toward Sawyer. She meets his steps with her own, back straight and chin held high.

  I’ll take my punishment like a man, right in front of the firing squad. Her lips being the bullets to my chest.

  The guy’s name is Nev, he plays corner for the football team. Nice dude
, can’t say I’ve ever seen him start shit or walk around like he’s better than anyone else. Stays quiet for the most part, he’s in my Calculus class, I don’t remember him uttering a peep actually. Someone that would be perfect for her.

  Too bad he won’t fucking have her because she prefers me instead.

  I watch them stop inches from each other, Nev’s fingers brush the side of her face affectionately, and I dig my nails into my palms. My lungs cease to pump air while my heart slams into my ribcage, begging me to make it stop.

  Nev lowers himself down, towering over her with his massive frame while Sawyer grasps his wide biceps.

  He bites his lower lip.

  She raises herself on her tiptoes.

  And I’m already fucking done with this scene.

  “Nev,” I storm out loud for everyone to hear. He glances in my direction, landing on me with my arms crossed along my chest. “Touch her...and I’ll fucking kill you.”

  His brows furrow, and I don’t even bother to look at Sawyer. I’ll get her two cents here shortly, I’m sure.

  But right now, I’m letting every ounce of selfishness seep through my pores and my seamless reputation of being a complete asshole. If someone else is going to kiss Sawyer Boyd, it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be in front of me.

  Nev looks back at Sawyer, confused on what to do—shocker, he’s a football player—and back to me.

  “It’s a game, Hayes,” Nev answers back.

  “Don’t give a fuck where the bottle landed, Lancaster, all I need you to do is back the fuck away.”

  “I’m not paying the fifty bucks,” he retorts.

  Geezus fucking Christ.

  I stride toward him, pulling out my wallet. Counting out fifty bucks, I slam it into his chest. “There’s your fifty, now fuck off.”

  Nev’s fingers wrap around the cash, giving Sawyer one last glance before turning on his heels and walking away.

  Sawyer’s grip instantly locks onto my hand, yanking me away from the Incredible Hulk, and marches us away from our teammates.

  I don’t stop her, she probably wants to light me on fire for everything that has happened over the course of the last week, what I just did and God knows what else is in her pretty little head right now.