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Chapter Thirty-Two: Obstacles & Oh Fu-
One month later…
Jasper blows his whistle and clicks the timer on his stopwatch.
"Time?" Rowdy wipes his forehead, but it's no use. He's dripping in sweat and his white shirt is soaked all the way through. Emmett passes him a water bottle, which he gulps down.
"45 seconds," Jasper replies.
"Damnit!" Rowdy tosses the bottle on the ground and bends over on his knees, huffing and puffing. It's the middle of September and I'm just happy the weather is getting slightly cooler. AJ, Charlotte Rose, and I sit on the ground, creating necklaces out of weeds. Emmett and Jessie take turns playing water boy for Rowdy, while it's Riley's duty to move the cones wherever Rowdy directs him.
"That's quicker than before," Riley says, patting Rowdy on the back. "You're moving good, man. It's seven seconds faster than the last run."
"Would have been more if AJ hadn't tripped you," Charlotte Rose adds.
AJ punches her in the arm. "I was trying to create obstacles!"
"That shit was jogging. I can't even consider that running! Coach Jenks isn't gonna let me play if I don't speed up. I'll get killed out there." Rowdy groans like it's the end of the world and places both hands on the back of his head. He's stressed out and putting way too much pressure on himself.
"You made the team, Rowdy," I encourage him, twisting the dead piece of grass into a knot. "Ain't that enough?"
"I'm sidelined, Cotton," he explains, wringing out his shirt. I know I'm supposed to be supportive and all, but I can't focus when his abs peek out from underneath his shirt. I don't think I've ever seen someone work so hard in such a short period of time. Between his personal workouts and seeing his physical therapist, Garrett, every day after school, Rowdy's made amazing progress. He's even running. He just keeps pushing himself and pushing himself. On one hand, I'm proud of him.
On the other, I'm worried he's stressing his body too much.
"What's sidelined mean?" Jessie asks, sucking on a strand of grass. I knock it out of her mouth. Gross. Does she even realize how many crickets have pooped on that?
Six, at the very least.
"Means the coach thinks he's too risky to play 'cause of his illness." Riley's on the team too, but he only tried out just to hang out with Rowdy. He could care less about the sport, but he's a damn good friend.
"I'm a filler, Jessie. The coach only gave me a jersey just to complete the team roster."
"Don't say that!" Jessie runs to Rowdy and hugs his waist. "You just keep doing your best. My teacher, Mrs. Benjamin, says that you haven't failed until you stop trying. So don't be a filler failure. You keep running and throwing that ball and one day, I'll be the dead person on the back of the plane, loving you no matter what."
AJ and the rest of 'em have no idea what Jessie's talking about, but Rowdy and I do. He lifts up my younger sister, smothering her with kisses. She bursts into a fit of giggles, screaming because Rowdy's soaked her in his sweat.
"You know what, Jessie?" he says, grinning ear to ear. "I will keep trying and eventually I'm going to make a touchdown. I'm gonna cross that line and point at you in the stands and I'm gonna scream, 'Baby Jesus loves you' as loud as I can, all for you."
"You'd do that?" she asks in awe.
"You know it!" He sets her down on the dirt road and claps his hands together, jumping side to side. "All right, Riley. Move those cones back two more feet. 45 seconds ain't shit. Let's aim for 30!"
Jasper resets his timer, Emmett plops down in the grass and digs in his nose, and I cheer my baby on.
You can do this, Rowdy.
You have to.
.
.
.
"Class, I want you to remember that this is not free time to chit chat. Your research on the French Revolution counts for 30 percent of your grade. Use your time wisely and search for the materials you need. Look at your rubric for details, but I want you using at least three sources. There's to be no slacking around. Ask me or the librarian if you need help. And be quiet. There's eleventh graders in here for their free or study period, and I don't want you interrupting them. Everyone understand?"
The class nods and scatters about the library, looking for resources for our report. Charlotte Rose walks beside me, gently touching the dusty books in the nonfiction section.
"What's your topic?" she asks, pulling out an unrelated book and flipping through the pages.
"Louis XVI and his great beheading," I answer, grinning.
"You would," she grimaces, wrinkling her nose. "I'm going to write about the three social estates during that time. The nobles and clergies and all of that."
"Playing it safe?" I grin, nudging her with my elbow as we move through the bookshelves.
"I have to. I bombed the last test. If I get a C in this class, Mama will kill me." Charlotte sulks and I feel awful. I passed with flying colors, but only because I have a system: remember the term and one key word of its definition. My method hasn't failed me yet. Sure, I've learned absolutely nothing, but I have an A and that's what matters.
We take turns glancing at encyclopedias at the edge of the library when Charlotte pulls out a thick leather-bound book. She peeks through the shelf and nudges me.
"Hey," she whispers. "Look who it is."
I peek through the gaping hole and see Bree and Angela Weber talking on the other side where the lounge study chairs are. They play with their dark red colored hair with their legs propped up on the wooden table.
"What are they saying?"
"Shhhh!" Charlotte puts a finger to her lips to quiet me as she removes another book. They don't see us, and I pray on everything they don't look this way. Four eyeballs staring through a shelf is sure to be noticed.
"Did you fuck him yet?" Angela doesn't even try to lower her voice and Bree pushes her playfully.
"A little louder, will you?" Bree pretends to be offended, but she's laughing. "Yeah, I did."
"And?" Angela raises her eyebrow, ready for gossip.
"He's got a huge cock and everything. We did it right on top of his motorcycle."
Charlotte Rose gasps. There's only person in Forks County that we know of who owns a motorcycle now that he's gone rogue.
"You're not upset, are you?" I whisper to her. Charlotte's always had a thing for Jake and even though I can't stand him, I wouldn't stand in the way of my best friend's happiness.
"Are you kidding? He's such a jerk-face now. I'm glad we never dated. He's rude, Cotton, and he acted all mean to you and Rowdy. I could never like someone like that."
"Thanks," I murmur as we turn back and continue listening.
The two Webers giggle as Bree keeps talking. "I mean, have you seen him lately? He's fuck shit poor, but he's actually starting to look hot."
"I can't believe he's dating nasty Gator Girl!" Angela exclaims. "She's so prissy, walking around here in fucking dresses and boots! 'Look at me in my Dior clothes my church-shouting ma bought for a million dollars!' What-the-fuck-ever! I bet they aren't even real."
"You know they aren't," Bree agrees. "'Sides, once Rowdy figures out what a loser she is, he'll dump her stuck-up ass."
My eyes start to water. I can't help it. I know they're lying through their teeth, but their words hurt. Was I around Rowdy too much to see how he's changed?
He is walking straighter, prouder even.
And when we're at lunch, sometimes a football player or two comes over to sit with him.
Plus he is getting hot. I mean, he always was, no doubt about that. But between the new clothes, the way he wears his hair, and how he's always clean, he looks like a different person than the one I met months ago.
Were the Webers right? Was Rowdy moving up some social chain I was unaware of?
"Charlotte? Cotton?"
Mrs. Banner says our names and we jump at the same time. We quickly turn around, stuffing our books back on the shelf. "Can you two run to the classroom and get the class topic list from my desk? Mike needs help and I can't remember for the life of me if I assigned him Napoleon's biography or the Napoleonic Code."
We smile brightly. "Sure thing.
I groan, wishing I could hear the rest of the Weber's conversation, but I guess I'll never know. We walk out of the library, down the hall, and up the stairs to the second floor.
"You know they're just jealous of you, right?" Charlotte Rose says as we turn the corner.
"I don't even care," I lie. "Rowdy's with me and they'll get over it."
"See? That's the spirit," she says cheerfully.
We're almost to the end of the corridor when we hear a loud bang. We freeze in our steps. "What was that?"
We hear it again and Charlotte grabs my hand, leading me to a closed door on the right side of the empty hall. There's a loud, "Fuck!" and I point to the door. I'd know that dirty mouth anywhere. "That's Rowdy!"
Charlotte goes to twist the handle, but I stop her hand. "What are you doing? You can't just walk in the middle of a class!"
She lets go of the door as we press our ears against it. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
It's Rowdy's voice for sure. Something large scrapes against the linoleum floor.
"I'm putting that shit in deep, you hear me, Angela? No more fucking around."
I hear a noisy moan and it's definitely Angela Weber. My hand flies to my mouth in shock.
There's louder scraping, a continuous thumping, and my eyes water.
"We can't … she'll … find out," Angela's voice is breathless and broken into spurts.
"You're thinkin' about that bitch at a time like this? Spread those legs open. Wider…" There's another bang and I don't think I can stand much longer. My knees start to buckle as they continue. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I listen to my gorgeous, dirty liar.
"Look at you," Rowdy growls. "This was your fucking idea and you can't even handle it. Get that thing wet, girl…"
That's all it takes and I go down, down, down. My stomach hurts so bad that it burns. I feel sick and I swear I'm going to puke. Charlotte Rose is around me, near me, touching me in an attempt to comfort, but I can't see her at all.
"Don't stop, Rowdy!" Angela cries as the thumping continues.
Listening to her say my boy's name drives me to a crazed insanity. My vision is blurry and I just want to cry, die, and wither away.
"How could he?" I sob, wiping snot onto my hand. "I loved him, Rose. I did. I gave up everything! Why? Why me?"
My best friend tries to hug me as Angela half-screams. It makes my skin crawl, and I feel so indescribably hurt I cannot speak. My jaw aches and my eyes sting as my heart throbs with agonizing pain.
"Fuck!" Rowdy yells and it's like I can hear the vibration in my ears. Charlotte begs me to move, but I can't. I just can't.
Somewhere deep, deep down, I need to just be still. I need to replay the last few moments in my head and pretend they aren't real.
I lean back to thump my head against the door when it suddenly flies open.
"Cotton?"
I glance up with a tear-streaked face as Rowdy buckles his pants.
He glances at me and then back at Angela and then again at his buckle. He groans. "Fuck. Listen, Cotton, I…"
I stand up, shoving him into the classroom. He practically stumbles onto his whore.
"Fuck is right," I glare, pushing him again. "And you gave zero of them today. Or maybe one, it looks like. Damn you, Rowdy. I am over your shit. Done! I don't want to ever, ever, ever, see you again. Ever."
He reaches out for me when his wallet falls out of his pocket.
A single condom slips out and slides onto the floor.
All I can do is laugh.
It figures.
Rowdy turned my life upside down and just when he's back to walking, he knocks me right off of my feet.