GRAYSON

The blood pumping in my ears was like a backtrack for Nessa's words. They kept playing on a loop.

When I wouldn't tell him anything, he grabbed me by the throat hard enough that I—

Part of me wanted to know how that sentence ended, and the other part dreaded ever finding out. I already had plenty of fuel for the fire under my feet today. I didn't need more.

Hate. A sickly burning spread through every inch of me, and I knew it was hatred. Of what Reid had done to these girls, the damage he'd caused them. And then there was the selfish part of me that hated him for how he'd damaged my chances with Nessa Elez.

Hell, all I wanted was to be a guy who Nessa could be around without throwing up her walls.

Cranking the volume on my music, I let my AirPods drown out everything else—my overworked heart, my murderous thoughts, everything. And then I kicked the treadmill up a notch. And sprinted.

Jealousy,
turning saints into the sea.
Swimming through sick lullabies,
choking on your alibis.

I was so in the zone that I nearly jolted right off the track when Julian popped in front of me, waving his arms like a madman.

I ripped my AirPods out.

"What the hell?" My heavy breathing kept me from saying anything else. But it didn't keep me from continuing to get after it on the treadmill while I glared at Julian.

"Gray, take a rest!" he shouted over the loud whirring of the machine.

All he got in response was a scowl.

He looked me up and down, surveying the sweat decorating my shirt, sprinkling my forehead. Okay, soaking my forehead.

"Everett!"

"Fuck off, man," I grunted before increasing the speed in defiance.

Julian's lips flattened into a tight line, one that I'd seen countless times before on the football field, and he reached over the top of the treadmill, slapping the red stop button.

Ass.

I didn't bother arguing with him, though, stepping down as the belt began to slow and high-tailing it to the bench press instead. But Julian was a quick fucker, and he slipped in front of me. A shove to my shoulder sent me reeling back a step, and I crossed my arms over my chest to keep from doing something I'd regret.

Julian's eyes were direct and hard as he stared me down. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Just trying not to kill someone else.

"Dude, I'm not going to die from a little run."

"I saw you get on that treadmill before I went to talk to Coach downstairs. It's been almost an hour since then, Gray, and that was not a jogging pace. You look like you're about to pass out. Little run, my ass."

Staring back at him, I saw the flare of determination that Julian was known for. He wasn't about to back down. But I wasn't in the mood for being told I wasn't capable of taking a goddamn run.

Lifting my shirt to wipe the sweat off my brow, I scoffed a little. "I would have thought my captain would be happy to see me in the gym during the off-season."

Julian wasn't amused. "Your captain wants to make sure you're around for the next season."

I bit my tongue, glaring back at him while I let the hammering in my chest settle.

"You were pushing yourself too far," he intoned when I didn't say anything. "Your heart—"

"I get it, Jules," I snapped before collapsing into the leg press machine, leaning back in the seat, and kicking my feet on top of the weights. I didn't have enough steam left to keep arguing with him. And I didn't want to hear his lecture.

Brodie and Julian were the only ones on the team besides our coach who knew just how fucked I was. And they never brought it up. I preferred for it to stay that way.

Julian released a long breath and ran a hand through his ginger hair. Silence stretched between us, only interrupted by the occasional clatter of weights from across the gym. I stared ahead, eyes unfocused. My energy leaked away, leaving me feeling empty. Exhausted. I hadn't slept well all week.

Finally, Julian spoke.

"So, what's going on?"

I shook my head without looking at him.

"You're never this reckless," he said. "And I don't think you've ever snapped at me like that."

Guilt prickled up the back of my neck. He was right. Calm, collected, chill—that was how I tried to live my life. I didn't like wasting time on anything else.

Closing my eyes, I mumbled the only response I could muster. "Sorry, man."

Julian nodded. And then it was quiet again, and I knew he was waiting for me to say something else. Except Jules wasn't a particularly patient guy, and I could hear him clucking his tongue, eager for me to spit something out.

"Did you know?" I finally asked, opening my eyes to find his brows scrunched together.

"Know what?"

"About what Quinton did?"

Jules visibly swallowed. As captain, he was sometimes privy to information that I wasn't. But I hoped to fuck he didn't know about how OSU decided to deal with the situation with Quinton. Because it was shady as all hell.

"I know his girlfriend was in the hospital," Julian answered quietly. "Madie, right? And I heard that he might have had something to do with it."

God, it bothered the shit out of me. How Reid had come to practice, how he'd smiled, joked, played the game like he wasn't trash inside. I gritted my teeth. "He damaged her brain, man."

Julian Briggs was always a pretty pale guy. But even his freckles seemed to wash away at my comment.

I wasn't done, though.

"Did you know that when she reported it, the university didn't do shit because they wanted Quinton to play in the championship game?"

"Fuck," Jules muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not going to lie; I'd heard rumors about that. But nothing was ever confirmed."

I nodded. "I got confirmation last week."

"From who?"

"Madie's roommate, Nessa." A knot in my stomach formed at the thought of our conversation. "Reid hurt her, too. When she wouldn't tell him where Madie went after she left the hospital."

"Nessa..." Julian repeated her name like it meant something to him but couldn't place it. And then I saw the moment that he pinpointed it.

"She was at the party the night before Thanksgiving break, right? She's friends with that Beau guy." Green eyes narrowed before lips twisted in amusement. "And I saw you outside with her." He laughed then. "Almost forgot about that. I was drunk as fuck that night."

I laughed, too, feeling my mood lighten a bit. Because he'd been beyond drunk. And also because that was a really good night.

Julian leaned back on a stack of weights, raising a brow. "So part of this is because Quinton fucked with your new girl, huh?"

My laugh turned harsh as the knot tightened inside me. My mood soured again. "I fucking wish she was my girl."

Julian gave me a wry smile. "Like you're really going to have a hard time making that happen."

I shook my head. He had no idea.

But Jules just chuckled. "Well, staying alive is the first step. So go back to your room and get some fucking rest. I don't want to see you out here trying to kill yourself again."

At that, he turned to leave. But I reached out to him, catching his forearm. His sharp eyes swiveled back to mine, and I dropped my hand.

"If Reid comes back to OSU, I don't want him on this team," I said, keeping my voice low.

Julian blew a breath out between his teeth. "Me either, man."

"Promise me that won't happen."

"There's only so much I can do," Julian said, looking pained to admit it. "But I promise I'll fight the fucking system tooth and nail."

Somewhat satisfied, I nodded. Julian flashed me a toothy grin.

"But only if you don't off yourself, Gray."

"Fuck off," I said, but this time it was muttered with a reluctant smile.

It was hard to be sure how long I stayed there after Julian left, too tired to move. But I eventually made my way to the locker room to shower and change. And then, as I trekked back across campus to Ackley Hall, I popped my AirPods in again, restarting my playlist.

It started out with a kiss;
How could it end up like this?

Fuck, this song might be a favorite, but it was a shit choice for getting Nessa out of my head.

I didn't know how to convince her to give me a chance, but I was hell-bent on making it happen. Even though she wasn't an open book, Nessa was authentic enough that I couldn't help but fucking crave her. All of her.

I needed to be around people like that. People who lived unapologetically, saying and doing what they wanted. Like my parents. Like me. After all the scares I had with my stupid heart back in high school, I was done existing just for the sake of existing. I wanted to be around people who made me feel something.

And I couldn't explain it, but Nessa made me feel everything.

Dragging my feet down the dorm hallway, I felt like I was going to drop to the floor from exhaustion before I even reached my room. I just hoped that I'd be tired enough to finally get some sleep tonight.

Rounding the corner, the door to 315 popped into sight, and I breathed a sigh of relief, picturing my bed waiting for me. But that's when I heard it.

Plucky, stringy sounds. The strumming of a ukulele drifting out from beneath a door to my right. Nessa's door. And she was singing. Dear God, she was singing.

I didn't stop to think before gripping the doorknob and stumbling into her room.

💗

Hey, all! In the past readers have asked if I have an updating schedule. I've always just said that I shoot for once/twice a week, but with being busy it was hard to predict the days. I usually posted whenever I finished.

But I have more time on my hands these days, so I am wondering this: would you prefer I stuck to a specific schedule in which I posted on certain days? Or is my sporadic updating preferred? Lol let me know if you have an opinion!

ps Mr. Brightside supremacy

pss how do we think Nessa will react to Gray interrupting her?