AUGUST

I'd been waiting by my sister's locker for almost fifteen minutes after the last bell and there was still no sign of her. I kept scanning the hallway; my head turning to the left, to the right then back again.

With it being after school, the other students were crowding the hall, trying to get out of the building as fast as possible. Not that I blame them.

School wasn't really my favorite thing in the world, but I knew I had to get through it in order to get into the school I wanted. It was the only way that I would be able to make it through college then start a career that would have my sister taken care of. It was a lot of hard work that I had put into school so far, and I wasn't going to ruin it by skipping or not studying. That wasn't an option. Not when I have Shella.

I sighed, leaning against my sister's locker, my arms tightened over my chest. I propped the back of my foot up against the locker for better balance and looked around the hall again. Every now and then I'd politely nod to someone who waved at me or gave some other form of greeting.

I was beginning to get anxious that my sister wasn't showing up. How did I miss her? She was usually carrying around her textbooks until the end of the day so she has to stop by here first. Plus, she had short legs, there was no way she'd be that quick to beat me to her locker.

The thought of her having run into Grayson Whitmore made me scowl. That snot-nosed punk made his intentions of going after my sister pretty clear today at lunch. And I would be damned if I let Shella get hurt. It was my responsibility to protect her and so far I've done a good job. There was no way I was going to stop now, especially when some chauvinistic idiot wants in on my sister's pants. The thought made my blood boil.

I curled my fist, swinging my arm backward until it clashed against the locker.

"What'd the locker do to you?"

Turning wide eyed, my sister stood in front of me, tilting her head with a raised brow. She was clutching her Chemistry book tightly to her chest. Relief washed over me seeing no sign of Whitmore anywhere.

Straightening from the locker, I frowned, "Where were you? Why'd it take so long for you to get to your locker?"

Shella's brows rose high, lowering her chin as she scrunched her nose. "Jeez, big brother... Think you can greet me before we start with the interrogation?"

My eyes narrowed as she was looking down and rummaged through her schoolbag. My brows furrowed, crossing my arms as I waited for her to look up at me after glancing at one of her visible ears and seeing that her hearing aid wasn't there.

Tilting my head with my mouth pursed to the side, I was ready to give her my best 'Big Brother' look. And when she did look up at me, my sister raised her brows, muttering, "What...?"

"What?" I repeated, leaning my head forward. "How about that you don't have your hearing aids on, that's what."

Shella winced, looking down as she subconsciously lifted her hand to her naked ear, scratching at it. Something she did when she was nervous about something. She lifted her eyes up to me, raising her shoulder and said that she was sorry. I gave her a look that made her sulk and groan out that Shella didn't like being the only one who wore the hearing aids because everyone looked at her weird.

"I'm treated differently, Zade. You know that! They all look at me like I'm weird, and then tip-toe around me like I'm made out of glass!" Shella sighed heavily, frowning at the ground between us.

I stared at my little sister and the way she was pouting. She wasn't really a crier. Not since that first time we went to the doctors when she was experiencing constant headaches, and then again when I went to pick her up from the social worker those years back.

My shoulders drooped, waiting patiently for her to look up at me. Shella peered up at me and I reached over to poke my finger to her forehead. She blinked, her brows twitching into a furrow before I grinned at her. Shaking my head, I said that I didn't care what people said about her, that she wasn't a weirdo.

Shella pursed her mouth, mumbling, "That's what you're supposed to say. You're my brother."

I grinned, shaking my head that being related to her had nothing to do with it. "It's because it's true, Shella. You're not a weird girl. You're just different. There's a difference."

I told her that this was high school and in two years time, it would more than likely be the last time she saw of these people anyway. I know she had big dreams of studying in Italy once she went to college—something I told her that she had to agree to go to if she wanted to live with me—and by that time, my sister was going to be well-accomplished.

"I know it doesn't mean much now, Shella, since being your age—for some reason or another—means you care too much what people think of you, but... but you can't let the hearing aids define who you are."

Her brown eyes stared at me with worry. She took a hard swallow before looking frustrated and tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Shella twisted around to rummage through her bag again until pulling out her hearing aids. We both stared at them in her palm and I nodded when she glanced up at me. Shella gave a small smile then reached up to place on one hearing aid then the other on the other ear.

I chuckled, "There. Now you look normal."

Shella grinned, nudging me in the side before looking at her locker then at me. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought I was supposed to meet you outside?" She scrunched her nose, tilting her head and closing an eye. "Aren't you supposed to be at football practice right now?"

Glancing down at the time on my phone I pulled from my back pocket, I grimaced at being already ten minutes late. Coach wasn't going to be pleased and to make an example of me I was sure I'd have to do some bear crawls or something along those lines of torture. Even if I was the team Captain.

I nodded that I was supposed to be at practice but that I needed to speak with her before.

My sister shrugged. "Okay. About what?"

We headed off in the direction of the football field located in the back of the school and I began retelling what happened at lunch earlier today. I saw the way Shella glanced away and when I asked her if Grayson Whitmore had spoken to her today she raised a shoulder in hesitance.

"Well... sort of." Shella replied, looking at me. "He was asking my friends and me if we wanted to sit with him and his friend at lunch. I politely refused and that was the end of that."

I mulled over what she was telling me, listening to our sneakers squeak against the tile before finally reaching the back doors to the outside of the school. We went down the steps in silence but Shella made it a point to ask me why she wasn't allowed to speak with him again.

I looked towards the football field where I could see Coach blowing his whistle and shouting something out to the boys on the field.

"He's a creep, Shella." I frowned, turning back to my sister who stopped beside me. I was feeling my hands curl into fists as I admitted, "I know what he wants with you and I don't like it. He's a total slime-ball who wants to hurt my baby sister."

Once at the boys' locker room, I sighed, facing her. "Shella, I promised that I was going to take care of you. And that includes not letting some stupid boy think he can take advantage of someone like you."

My sister's brow rose, turning her head slightly. "Someone like me...?"

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head that that wasn't what I meant, just that she was someone with a good head on her shoulders, but even with her heart of gold, someone would want to steal that away from her.

Shella stared at me, smiling, "Zade, you big doofus! I love you for being the best big brother ever." I grinned at this. "But I'm fifteen. Don't you think that I can handle certain things on my own by now? You already have a lot on your plate with it being Senior year and all. And besides," she chuckled, "I'm not stupid to fall for someone like Grayson Whitmore."

Her eyes widened and leaned forward with her nose scrunched. "Do you know he made out with six girls all in the same day? You realize the boy is a walking opportunity for Mono, don't you?"

There was a rush of relief rushing over me at hearing my sister's words. I think she could see it too because Shella smiled, walking closer and hugged me around my middle. "I love you, Doofus. But don't forget that you have to live a little too and not worry about my love life so much."

I snorted, telling her she wasn't allowed to have a love life. Shella just rolled her eyes, saying that wasn't her point.

Sighing, I ran my fingers through the front of my hair after she stepped back. Her eyes shifted to the locker rooms and nodded in the same direction. "Best get suited up. Otherwise, Coach Fargle is going to make a football out of you."

Point taken.

Nodding in agreement, I reminded Shella that she was to wait in the library while I practiced and that I had to go to work afterwards so I definitely couldn't be late for that.

"I have to be there at 7:30. So be ready by 4:45 so we can go home and I can eat and shower before heading out."

My sister rolled her eyes as she let out an almost inaudible sigh as she spun around lazily to start heading to the library. "Zaaaaaade, I knooooow!" she whined then threw me a look when I scolded her for rolling her eyes at me.

I stood there a few more minutes, thinking maybe I should have walked my sister to the library in case that sleaze Whitmore was lurking around waiting for her. But then I looked over my shoulder when the Coach's whistle blew again and he shouted all the way from the field, "Ruiz! Boy, you better have a damn good excuse for standing around guarding that Goddamn locker room! Get your ass suited up, boy! Now!"

Groaning, I scrambled into the locker rooms.

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After the ten minutes it took me to suit up, I ran out onto the field and gave an apologetic look to Coach. The man was scowling the entire time it took from me to get out onto the field and had his beefy fists on his hips.

With a raised brow, Coach huffed that he expected better from the newly appointed Varsity Captain. That was all he said and it was enough to make me cringe. I shook my head and apologized while glancing to the side at my teammates who were all sneaking looks my way during their drills. Talk about embarrassing.

Sighing, I told Coach that I wouldn't be late again, and he retorted that I 'sure as hell' wouldn't be because I was going to be made an example of by doing bear crawls from one side of the end zone to the other. With the water-boy on my back.

I groaned, scrunching my nose and made my way to the end of the field.

Beside me was our water boy, Tommy, who gave me a sympathetic grin as we walked together. I held onto the face mask of my helmet until I stood at the starting point from the end zone before putting it on.

Narrowing my eyes, I studied the distance of the football field and internally groaned. Bear crawls were one of the worst in practices but were usually used for punishment (ergo why I am doing them). Having to carry Tommy across it though was just a major torture bonus. He was about one-eighty as a sophomore so it wouldn't be as painful if I had to carry one of my linebackers.

Sighing, I questioned if Tommy was ready. He nodded and I knelt to get into a starting position to brace Tommy's weight on my back.

"Get a move on, Ruiz!" Coach shouted.

"I'm trying," I grumbled under my breath before starting the bear crawls. By the time I was more than halfway past the fifty-yard line, I could hear Coach shouting for me to pick up the pace.

"I expect my star player to shine, Ruiz! Though being tardy dulls that a little!"

I knew Coach was really milking the tardiness thing and he had every right to do so but it was still embarrassing. After all, I was the Captain of this team and how the hell was I supposed to show a good example and expect my team to be on point if I couldn't get my shit together?

It wasn't until I made it to the end zone that I collapsed, Tommy quickly rolling off me and I rolled onto my back. I was panting heavily, shutting my eyes to keep the blaring sun from blinding me. I was kind of expecting for Coach to holler at me for "lounging around" but he didn't. Which was a pleasant surprise since I could catch my breath. The sweat was pouring through my gear and I felt gross.

As I sat up, I noticed Tommy was still with me and now looking in a certain direction. I panted, "What's wrong?"

Tommy's brows furrowed, slowly shaking his head that he didn't know but that I should probably head over. He was pointing in the direction of the rest of the team still practicing but even my teammates were trying to be nosy with who our Coach was talking to.

I frowned, grunting as I stood up and patted Tommy's shoulder while nodding for us to head back. He had a pep in his step as we walked which made me grin a bit. He was a spiritedly guy.

As I was making my way to where my team was, Tommy headed back to the sidelines to refill the water bottles again. I was going to join my teammates but Coach curtly shouted my name. I turned to him nodding for me to join him. I went over, glancing at the Principal with a woman and teenage boy with him. The teenager was probably four inches shorter than me, but the woman he was with happened to be way shorter. She looked a little pale but had a small smile.

As I halted next to Coach, I nodded at Principal Boyd then glanced at the visitors.

Coach went back to talking to the trio, explaining as he gestured to me that I was the Captain of the football team and he liked me present for things such as "this". I lowered a brow, wondering what "this" was and I removed my helmet, resting it by my feet before placing my hands on my hips.

When I turned to Principal Boyd, he had this big smile on his face. "Why am I not surprised you would be the Captain this year, Zade?" Principal Boyd chirped. "With how hard working you are, of course you would earn the spot."

He turned to the woman and teenager, gushing that I was one of the "top students" in the school. I glanced at the boy who was standing with his hands in his sweater pockets. He had the hood of his sweater on and broke his attention from the principal to me. I gave a small nod his way, which he returned.

"Zade," Principal Boyd drew my attention again, gesturing to the teenager. "This is Ransom Connors." then gestured to the woman. "And this is his aunt, Clara."

I smiled, holding out my hand to the woman and greeted that it was a pleasure to meet her. I shook her nephew's hand before turning back to the Principal. I was then informed the visitors had just moved closer to our district of Falcon Valley, and Ransom had been attending the neighboring public school.

After deliberation with the school board, Principal Boyd was happy to announce Cedar Prep was offering a full scholarship for Ransom. That was great and all, but what the hell did that have to do with me? That saying, 'be careful what you ask for' definitely bit me in the ass the rest of practice.

My principal shared he was speaking to Coach about Ransom's athletic stats at his previous school and how they had gone to the State Championships before going on to Nationals. I felt my eyebrows shoot up at this, turning to Ransom (what an odd name) who met my gaze again after turning away from the principal.

"Nationals...? That's impressive," I pointed out.

Last year, we got as far as the State Championships but lost that first game and we were out of the running. Now that I thought about it, I recalled one of the public schools getting a lot of spotlight because of their football team. I'm guessing it was this kid's school.

Ransom shrugged, that stoic look on his face still there as he muttered it was a team effort. He side glanced his aunt who smiled brightly and patted her nephew's arm while saying that her nephew was quite modest about everything.

I weakly grinned, nodding as I didn't have a response to that. Glancing at Coach, he gave me this look before sighing that Principal Boyd would like for "us" to try out Ransom as earning a National Championship could be in the cards for us this year.

Was it justified to say I was a bit insulted at this? I mean, I get it, but that's kind of a kick to my nuts to stand here as the Captain of the team, and to hear my team wasn't good enough for the Championships unless Boy Wonder here was on the team.

I bit my tongue. I shouldn't be snippy towards the guy. Normally, I don't like being rude to people unless it had to do with Shella or them just being assholes in general (looking at you, Whitmore) so I really needed to ease up.

Taking in a slow breath, I snuck a glance at Coach before giving a curt nod. Coach looked a bit relieved as he looked to Ransom and asked if the teenager wouldn't mind showing what he got. Coach would like to know what spots could open up for playing time.

Ransom shrugged, nodding, "Sure." then glanced at me again before turning away as he was unzipping his sweatshirt. His aunt took it from him before Ransom followed Coach and me onto the field. Coach blew the whistle, halting practice, though let's face it, my team was damn nosy in scoping out the new face as we were approaching.

After a brief introduction of Ransom to the team, Coach informed my teammates that they were going to try the new guy out. The guys' faces were a mix of moods. They were glancing at one another, raising a brow as I figured maybe they were wondering why this guy was so special that he got a tryout at the beginning of the school year instead of like everyone else in the summer.

Near the back of the team, I heard a scoff. "Why the special treatment, Coach?" and I internally groaned.

My teammates parted, revealing Malik Danvers—one of our linebackers and the most mouthy player on our team. I've had him running laps multiple times during summer practices because Malik didn't know when to shut the hell up. Coach knew this too but let's face it, as mouthy as Malik can be, he was a damn good football player. Luckily for him, his grades were decent enough to keep him on the team and with playing time.

Coach raised a brow, tilting his head. "Well, you're about to find out, Danvers. You're running a play with him."

My eyes widened, head snapping in Coach's direction. Was he insane?! He was going to pit the new kid against Malik-Fucking-Danvers? Might as well send the fucking kid home in a match box already!

I could see the way Malik smirked, already eyeing his prey and I muttered to Coach, "Are you sure about this, Coach?"

Coach raised a brow, crossing his arms and glanced at me. "Well... if he's such a big shot as Principal Boyd claims, I want to see what he's got. And Danvers is our meanest player. If he can handle Danvers, he can handle anything."

I was doubtful and already felt bad for the new kid who was being given a helmet and practice padding that he pulled over his head.

"I hope you're right about this, Coach..." I mumbled, standing to the side with him before Coach shouted out for the team to line it up. He looked at me with a raised brow and nodded, "Get on the field, Ruiz. You're the damn Quarterback for hell's sake. Show 'em what you got."

"Yes, Sir," I mumbled, placing on my helmet then jogged onto the field where Ransom was. He was scanning the other players with his hands on his hips.

"Hey," I greeted.

Ransom turned when I was beside him. I asked him what position he played at the other school and Ransom replied that it depended on where his previous coach wanted him. I raised a brow. Not sure if that was a pitch of bragging what he could do but I was doubtful that this kid was as spectacular as Principal Boyd hyped him to be.

Ransom saw my doubt and rolled his eyes, clarifying that his former coach liked his team to be well-rounded. The coach had most of the players playing different positions depending on weight, size and skill.

I nodded, a little more relaxed now with that explanation. "You have a preference?"

Staring straight ahead, brows furrowed and jaw locked, Ransom just stood there. I glanced in the direction he was staring where Malik was nudging his linebacker buddies while pointing in our (Ransom's) direction with his usual 'I'm-Gonna-Kick-Your-Ass' look.

Sighing, I warned Ransom that Malik was our best defender. That this was me warning Ransom to be careful because Danvers was looking to prove a point.

The new kid didn't break his stare down at Danvers as he muttered, "We'll see."

After suggesting for Ransom to try a Receiver spot, we lined up. I warily watched Malik smirking and locking focus on the new kid. Ransom was down my left at the far end, lowered in a starting position. His gaze slowly met mine before giving a brief nod which I returned then I started out the play.

Once the ball was hiked, I caught it and moved backward and scoped for Ransom. He was already sprinting down the field with his hand up in the air. I reeled my arm back, hurling the ball and watched it spiral in the air. From a ways down, Malik already broke through the line and was making his way towards Ransom. The beefy guy barreled through the team, coming out from the right side to block off the new kid.

Ransom had already caught the ball and saw Danvers charging at him. I wasn't alone in my anxiety skyrocketing when my teammates and I saw Ransom just standing there. We shouted for the new kid to run but it looked like he froze up. And Malik was closing in. Fast. But then Ransom sprinted straight for Malik.

Me and a few others removed our helmet, eyes wide at the impending head on collision. Malik was charging feet away from Ransom just as the new kid hunched forward, and shouldered himself against my linebacker. There was a strangled grunt from Malik then he fell back, hitting his head with a heavy thump. And then there was Ransom, jogging the rest of the way to the end zone.

My team and I stood there, stunned at Malik lying back on the ground. I looked over at a wide-eyed Coach and the whistle in his mouth just fell out.

Ransom jogged back, football cradled under his arm and looked down at Malik still dazed on the ground. The new kid nodded something before dropping the football on Danvers then walked away. Malik grunted as he sat up, scowling after the new kid.

When he approached, Ransom removed his helmet, handing it off to its owner. He started peeling off his shoulder padding and looked Coach's way. "So do I get a spot?" Ransom asked, lowering a brow.

Coach blinked a few times, slowly turning to me and I rested my hands on my hips, raising my brows with my lips reeled in. With the looks we were giving one another, I think it was safe to say Ransom definitely had a spot.