Page 74 of Westward

I recognized nearly everyone since I had been here for so long, but there were still a couple of new faces. I said hello, talked to a few, took a photo, and bypassed the social media team because if I got stuck there, I would never make it to the training room, and finally turned the corner.

Samuel was nowhere to be seen, and I frowned.

“Hey Sammy?” I asked.

The door slammed behind me, and I whirled, eyes wide as Noah, the assistant trainer, came forward.

I let out a deep breath and did my best not to look down at the shining knife in his hand.

“Hey, Noah.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” the other man slurred, and I realized that he was high as a kite.

“What’s going on, Noah? Let’s talk about this.”

“Put your phone down, don’t you fucking say anything,” Noah spat as he raised his knife and swung at me. I dodged, hands outstretched. But I didn’t know if I was supposed to bend to put my phone down, or what. I’d never actually been fucking held at knifepoint before.

“Noah, you do realize that there are cameras everywhere. People know where I am. Why don’t you put the knife down, and we can talk?”

“I tried to talk to you all summer. But you ignored me. Not a single fucking text back. Don’t you see? You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to stay away.” Noah began to rock, even as he pointed a knife towards me, and everything started to click.

The attack last season, the hit to the knee, the constant texts that weren’t from a fan.

It was Noah, all this time.

“Noah, man. Just talk to me. What do you need?”

My screen was away from him, so I didn’t think he could see what I was doing. And since I couldn’t see what I was doing, I just pressed a few buttons and hoped to hell that I was making sense to whoever got the text.

“Jacob is supposed to be in that net. Don’t you see? I have everything on Jacob being in the net. You kept stealing the spotlight all last year. Do you know how much money I lost? No matter what I did, you wouldn’t stay hurt.”

“Jacob? You want Jacob to win. But he wins if I win. It’s a team sport, Noah.”

“Fuck off. That’s not how it is. You know stats. Jacob was supposed to win me all that money, and all you did was be a selfish asshole. Why couldn’t you just fucking stay in your little town that nobody cares about?” He slashed out again, and this time the blade nicked my arm. I cursed but was grateful that I didn’t tilt the phone so he could see whatever was there.

“Noah, my man. I didn’t know. Just talk to me, we can talk about this rationally.”

“Rationally? Fuck you.” He swung out again, and this time I dodged and pushed at his forearm. The door slammed open, and there was Jacob, halfway in his gear, phone in hand, with security right behind him.

Security tackled Noah as Jacob ran to me, eyes wide.

“You called me, man. I can’t believe you called me.”

I finally looked down at my phone, ignoring the blood dripping from my arm, and realized that I had indeed called Jacob. Of all people, it was him.

“Are you okay?”

Bile rose in my throat, and I nodded, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

“Did you hear all that?”

Jacob nodded, eyes wide. “Some of it.” The other goalie turned and frowned. “What the hell, Noah?”

“It was you. You were supposed to win me money.”

Security glared at Jacob, who held up both hands. “I seriously don’t know him other than him being my trainer.” He looked at me, his face pale, his eyes wide but full of worry. “You have to believe me. I swear.”

The kid’s eyes were filling with tears, and I reached out, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him close. “I know. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you.”