Page 71 of Campus Heat

I finished my post-game responsibilities in a blur. Then I ran to the locker room, changed out of my uniform and pulled a hoodie over my head before leaving the stadium. By the time I reached the campus gym nearly an hour later, my frustration had hardened into a blade.

I found Ethan alone near the boxing station, and that annoyance found its target. He stood beside one of the heavy bags, methodically wrapping tape around his hands as if he were preparing for a fight. He was so preoccupied that it took him a while to notice I was there. Or maybe he just chose not to acknowledge my presence. Nothing could surprise me anymore.

“Are you going to explain what that was?” I eventually asked.

He paused briefly, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t even have the decency to look up at me.

“It was just a bad game.”

I folded my arms over my chest as the urge to strangle him became overwhelming. “Don’t you dare insult me like that.”

The tone of my voice and my sharp words gave him enough reason to look at me. His eyes were darker than usual, and there was both exhaustion and frustration sitting behind them.

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped, tossing the tape to the ground.

“I want you to tell me the truth!”

“I already did.”

“No,” I said, stepping closer. “What you did was ramble a few mismatched sentences like a madman who was preparing for the apocalypse. I need more than a walking disaster who’s incapable of expressing himself.”

He exhaled slowly, and I could instantly tell he didn’t know he had been rambling during halftime. He thought it was all making sense because he had half the discussion with himself, in his mind.

“You ignored your coach,” I said, my tone softer this time. “You forced throws that weren’t there. You changed plays that were called for a reason. You looked like you were trying to sabotage your team.”

His jaw tightened, but the tension in his shoulders released. “You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try me.”

Silence stretched between us, so I stepped closer. My heart was pounding in my ears with every second that passed because at that moment I wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

“Something happened after the rally,” I whispered. “You’ve been different ever since I left you that night.”

He didn’t respond.

“You won’t look at me during the game anymore,” I murmured. “You barely talk to me after practice. You didn’t even do our ritual today. And then you went out there and played like the entire season had no meaning. Is it me? Did I do something to upset you?”

“Well… I did really look forward to being alone with you that night, but it has nothing to do with what’s going on. Or maybe it does, because if you didn’t leave, I would have…”

I closed the distance between us and took his hands in mine. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Ethan stared at the floor for a good while before looking at me.

“This doesn’t matter in the way you think it does,” he said softly.

My eyebrows pulled together, and my chest tightened.

“Then tell me how I should be looking at it.”

For a moment it looked like he might. Like the words were right there, trapped behind his teeth. But then he looked away and shook his head.

“You don’t want to be a part of this disaster.”

“It’s too late for that now,” I said.

Another long silence stretched between us, and finally I lost my cool entirely. I tightened my grip on his hand.

“Talk to me,” I demanded, my voice no longer as gentle.