Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)
Chapter 12

“April twenty-fourth.” Faye’s voice filled the Yukon’s cab even though she spoke in a whisper. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her chin tucked.

“April twenty-fourth,” I repeated, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

April twenty-fourth.

We were having a baby on or around April twenty-fourth.

“That’s draft day,” I murmured, staring unblinking out the windshield and across the vehicles parked in the fieldhouse lot.

“What?”

I forced my vision into focus as I looked to the passenger seat. “Draft day. When college players get selected by teams in the NFL.”

“Oh.” Faye’s forehead furrowed. “Are you, um . . . doing that? The draft?”

“No. I still have a year of eligibility left to play at Treasure State. I was a redshirt my freshman year.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

I forgot she wasn’t ingrained in the world of football like everyone else in my life. “An athlete can only play four seasons within a five-year calendar window. My freshman year, I only played a few games. I practiced and worked out with the team, but because I sat out for most of the games, I didn’t have to count it as a full season. So I can play one more year in college.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Then you’ll do the draft thing?”

“Maybe.” That was the plan. To play my ass off at Treasure State, pray I didn’t get injured and possibly get picked up by an NFL team. Even if I went in the last round, I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep playing.

Except during next year’s draft, I’d have a kid. A one-year-old.

How the fuck was that going to work? How was any of this going to work?

My head had been spinning for the past hour and a half. Ever since we’d walked into the doctor’s office for Faye’s appointment.

I’d done my best to blend into the walls as Faye had answered a litany of health questions and been run through all the standard tests. If not for the stiff chair beside the exam table they’d told me to sit in, I might have passed out when the doctor had used a wand to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.

And then she’d dropped that date on us like a bomb.

April twenty-fourth.

Yeah, it was only September, but wasn’t April too soon? That would be here in a blink. I wasn’t ready to be a father. We needed more time. I needed a better plan.

Except whenever I tried to visualize this new future, it was like staring into a black hole. An abyss.

“April twenty-fourth is two weeks before graduation.” Faye tapped her fingers together, like she was counting the days in her head to be sure.

Fuck. While I was freaking out about next year’s NFL draft, Faye wasn’t sure if she’d be able to finish her last two weeks of her senior year. They had to make exceptions for stuff like this, right? Faye certainly wasn’t the first pregnant student at Treasure State.

“Whatever I can do to help, I’ll do it,” I told her.

She glanced over, almost like she’d forgotten I was here, and gave me a half-hearted attempt at a smile before she opened the door and hopped out.

Last night at the diner, as she’d wiped down tables, I’d asked if I could drive us today. The moment she’d agreed, I’d put my schoolwork away and gotten the hell out of there before she changed her mind.

It felt like I was walking on eggshells and one wrong word would destroy this awkward peace. Faye hadn’t mentioned the paternity test again. I sure as fuck hadn’t brought it up.

We didn’t talk about much when I went to Dolly’s. Mostly, I sat in a booth that was too small and uncomfortable, watching as Faye waited on customers. But at the moment, it was all I could come up with.

To just be around her. Be available in case she needed a hand.

I reached into the back seat and grabbed my backpack, locking the car’s doors when I was outside. Then I jogged to catch up to Faye, who was already heading toward the fieldhouse.

Shortening my strides, I fell in step beside her. “You have one more class today?”

“Yeah,” she said. “In Williams Hall.”

“I’m headed to O’Donnell for Supply Chain Analytics.”

Her nose scrunched up.

I chuckled. “My thoughts exactly.”

When we reached the sidewalk, we skirted the fieldhouse, heading toward the crosswalk that would lead us toward the lecture halls and other campus buildings.

Except before we made it to the intersection, a side door to the fieldhouse blew open and two girls walked outside.

They were both on the volleyball team. Younger by a year or two maybe, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that one of them—Megan?—trailed Maverick around campus like a lost puppy.

I doubted he even knew her name.

She spotted us walking, her eyes blowing wide. Then she leaned in to say something into the other girl’s ear as they both stared at Faye. No doubt the rumors were flying through the athletics department. No doubt they knew Faye was having my baby.

Fuck their gossip.

I shifted, moving behind and to Faye’s other side in a flash, blocking her view so she wouldn’t see them whispering.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” I put my hand on the small of her back when we reached the street, not touching but hovering close as we stepped onto the crosswalk.

A quick glance over my shoulder and the volleyball girls were close.

They were still heads bent, whispering.

Fucking girls.

And the real fuck of it all was that the only person I could blame was myself. Because I’d lost my mind weeks ago and started an argument with Faye in the fieldhouse where everyone could hear.

People had started to talk. The rumors seemed mostly limited to the athletic department, but that wouldn’t last. Maverick had probably told Erik. Erik would tell Kalindi.

And while it would be great to keep this under wraps for a while, a pregnancy wasn’t something we could hide forever.

Clearly, not even a couple of months if the news had spread to the volleyball team.

Gossip amongst athletes was normal. I’d certainly heard my fair share in the locker room. Hell, I’d even had the gossip be about me. Though that had been a while ago. I’d done my best to fly under the radar since everything had happened with Halsey our freshman year.

Shit. What was Halsey going to do when she found out? Should I tell her? Maybe it would save some drama if she heard it from me. I didn’t want to call her, but I would. Later.

The girls behind us laughed, a little too loudly.

“Are you working tonight?” I asked Faye as we crossed the street. If I talked, maybe she wouldn’t be able to hear whatever it was they were saying.

Her eyes were aimed forward, her arms wrapped around her middle. “No.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll still be at the diner later.”

“Really? Why?”

She glanced up, caramel eyes holding mine for just a moment. “It’s easier there.”

“With me? Or with everything?”

Faye blew out a breath. “Both.”

It was easier at Dolly’s. Why was that?

Stepping into the restaurant was like entering a bubble. Like nothing else existed except for the smell of cheeseburgers and bacon. Like the future couldn’t touch us when we were within the diner’s walls. Like we didn’t have to have it all figured out, not yet.

“I think I’ll change it up tonight. Get the pancakes instead of a burger,” I said. “They’re your favorite, right?”

“Yes.”

“Pancakes it is. Since you’re not working, maybe we could eat them together. Sit in that booth and pretend like we’re both not freaking out about April twenty-fourth.”

The corner of Faye’s mouth turned up. It was a barely-there smile I’d seen a handful of times since I’d started visiting Dolly’s. And it always made me want more. It made me want a real smile, like the ones she’d given me the night of the bachelorette party. “All right. Pancakes.”

I grinned. “Can’t wait.”

Her smile widened, her cheeks pinkened.

Faye was gorgeous. Completely, intoxicatingly gorgeous. I hadn’t really let myself look, truly look, at her these past few weeks. Mostly because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stop staring.

We had enough problems. She didn’t need me drooling over her right now.

She glanced up, catching me watching. “What?”

You’re beautiful. “Nothing.”

The brown brick of O’Donnell Hall came into view. Normally, I liked that it was so close to the fieldhouse. Walking between the two buildings was quick and convenient.

But walking with Faye was nice. It felt like we were two normal students passing time between classes, enjoying campus on a crisp, fall day.

“What class do you—” My question was cut short when the people outside O’Donnell shifted and a familiar face appeared in the crowd.

Halsey. Storming my way.

The anger on her face meant only one thing. She’d heard the gossip too.

“Oh, fuck.” So much for delivering the news myself.

“What?” Faye glanced around.

“You should go,” I said, jerking my chin toward the opposite end of campus.

“Huh?”

There was no time to explain and the last thing we needed today was drama. Especially with the volleyball girls still behind us. “Trust me? Please? I’ll see you at the diner tonight.”

Faye stared at me for two heartbeats before she nodded.

I slowed my steps, letting her continue forward. Then I stopped entirely as Halsey marched closer and closer.

There was no way for me to keep the two women from crossing paths. But Halsey’s attention was locked on me, and I hoped that I’d remain her target.

She breezed past Faye, not so much as sparing her a glance, and the air rushed from my lungs.

Good. I’d take whatever wrath was coming. Faye didn’t need to get dragged into this bullshit.

Halsey stopped ten feet away, twisting to point at Faye’s back. “Is that her?”

Keep walking, Faye. Just keep walking.

She stopped.

Damn it.

“Don’t do this,” I told Halsey.

There was a blaze in her eyes even though they were swimming with tears. “Is it true?”

“Hals—”

“Is. It. True!” Her voice bounced off the nearby buildings and all other conversations came to a screeching halt.

This was going to get ugly, wasn’t it? “We’re not talking about this.”

“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re not talking about how you cheated on me and got her pregnant?”

Past Halsey, down the sidewalk, the color drained from Faye’s face.

The doctor had told us that it was common for expecting parents to wait until the twelve-week mark before making announcements. Now? There wasn’t a chance we’d make it to that three-month mark. I hadn’t even told my parents yet.

“We weren’t together,” I told Halsey. “I didn’t cheat on you. And I get why you’re upset, but this is not your business.”

A tear dripped down her cheek and with an angry swipe, she flicked it away. “So are you together now?”

“I’m not talking about this.” I kept my voice as gentle as possible. “Let it go.”

“Let it go.” Her voice cracked. “I have spent months proving how much I love you. I have never given up on us, even when you did. I have been your number-one cheerleader for years. I would have followed you to the NFL if that’s what you wanted, or I would have stayed here, just to be with you. I have tried everything. Everything. And you want me to let it go?”

Damn it. “I’m sorry, Hals.”

I’d never meant to hurt her like this.

Another tear fell and this time, she didn’t bother catching it. “Now I have to hate you.”

It didn’t hurt. She delivered it, expecting it to be a blow, but it didn’t hurt. Probably because it wasn’t the first time she’d said she hated me. That camping trip, after we’d gotten into a fight, she’d told me in a voicemail that she’d hated me then too.

Without another word, she walked past me, her shoulder clipping my arm before she disappeared.

The people who’d obviously been watching suddenly found the ground, the clouds, the grass quite interesting as they tore their attention away and pretended not to have eavesdropped on that spectacle.

I didn’t have it in me to care that I had an audience, not today.

My focus went to the sidewalk, searching for a woman with strawberry-blond hair.

Faye had already walked away.

So I went to class and did my best to focus on school. I worked my ass off at practice, pouring all of my frustration and irritation into football. And after taking a shower and changing into a pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I drove across town to Dolly’s Diner, my stomach growling and ready for some pancakes.

I ate them alone.

Faye stood me up.