The coach blows the whistle, and five guys take off in a sprint. Alis easily outruns them all as though they’re no competition for his conceited ass. Something about his arrogance pisses me off. I toss my red helmet into the grass and strut over to the track. The track coach, Coach Davies, frowns at me.
“Need something, Voss?”
“One hundred meters?” I ask, nodding in the direction the sprinters just ran.
“Yep.”
“What’s the best time?”
“Twelve seconds.”
“Time me.” I crack my neck and grin at him. “I want to see if I can beat it.”
He glances past me in confusion, where Damon is hollering at me to get back on the field. “Your team is looking for you, son.”
“They can wait.”
“Are you going to take off your gear?”
I laugh, earning a few confused stares. “Nope.”
Coach Davies rolls his eyes but motions for me to step into place. “Get in position.”
Mimicking the way the runners started out before, I ready myself.
“Those cleats are going to slow you down,” Davies warns.
“Just blow the whistle, man.”
He sighs, and the sharp, piercing sound signifies my start. Just like in football, I race as hard as I can, as though I’m going to catch the ball and carry it into the end zone. Instead of a ball, though, I lock my eyes on Alis’s stunned face. I whiz past where he’s standing and slow once I’ve crossed the finish line.
Davis trots up to me a moment later, his eyes wide with awe. “Well, I’ll be damned, Voss. Eleven point six seconds. In full gear, no less.”
Alis’s glare could melt glaciers. He’s pissed, and it has me feeling as though I’ve rankled him like I set out to do. I know he’s used to being number one in everything he does, but that was before I decided I wanted that number. I’ll enjoy tearing away every proverbial trophy from his grip and making them my own.
“I beat Sommers?” I ask, panting as a grin spreads across my face. “Is that good?”
“Hell yeah,” Davies crows, playfully shaking Alis by the shoulders. “This guy could run for the Olympics one day, and you just blew his time out of the water.”
“No shit?”
“Language,” Davies chides, but he’s still smiling like an idiot. “You thinking of quitting that useless game over there?”
I know he’s joking, but it stirs something in my gut. Beating Alister in his sport was the highlight of my day. Football sure as fuck wasn’t.
“Actually,” I say with a shrug. “I was thinking about it. I bet I could shave some time off without my cleats on.”
“Go to hell, Voss,” Alis snaps, his body thrumming with rage.
Already there, asshole.
Our dads sent me there that night on the boat.
“Be a good sport,” Davies chastises, misunderstanding Alis’s anger. “He’d be a good addition this year for our team. Sommers, wait—”
Alis storms off, ignoring his coach. I shrug as though I don’t understand his fury.
“He’ll come around,” Davies assures me with a sigh. “He’s not used to having to try too hard. This’ll give him the incentive he needs.” He gestures to the football field. “Need me to talk to your coach?”
“Nah, I’ll tell him myself.” I lift my chin at Davies and then saunter back over to where my team is staring at me. I walk right up to Coach Healy and lean in to whisper words that feel really fucking good to say. “I quit.”
His string of curses echoes behind me all the way to the locker room.
I can’t wait for Dad to find out.
After a quick shower to avoid my pissed-off teammates, I grab my black and red Blood Gators bag and exit the locker room. Naomi and our sisters are waiting for me. Ignoring the younger two, I pull Naomi to me and plant a kiss on her lips.
“Missed you,” I murmur against her lips.
“You can go a few hours without seeing me.”
“Says who?”
She rolls her eyes and pushes me away from her. “Let’s go. I have to get to work.”
I thread my fingers through hers and guide us down the hall toward the exit, our sisters trailing behind us. As soon as we walk outside and get assaulted by the muggy Florida August afternoon, my hackles rise. Sitting on the hood of my car is a familiar bleach-blond asshole.
Nae squeezes my hand. “Canyon, don’t.”
“Get in the car, babe,” I grind out. “I need a word with this prick.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” she warns, pinning me with a firm stare. “I’m serious.”
“Never,” I say with a crooked, forced grin before pecking her lips. “It’ll just be a second.”
I hand Nae the keys so she can start up the AC. The girls pile in, and Alis hops off the hood before she starts the engine.
“Stalking me, Wonderland?” I cross my arms over my chest and peer down at him.
Fearless as fuck, he steps closer, a sneer twisting his features. “Stay out of my lane, bro.”
“Call me bro again.” I flash him a vicious grin that promises a fist through his irritating face. “Do it. I fucking dare you.”
“Your bully tactics won’t work with me,” Alis scoffs, his dark, empty eyes sharpening. “You’re pissed at your dad, so you’re trying to get to me. It’s a wasted effort. You’ll never be anything but second best. Just ask your dad. He has a new favorite son.”
I grind my teeth together, trying desperately to keep my promise to Nae not to hurt him. To keep my fists from swinging, I crack my neck and suck in a deep breath.
“You’re not his son,” I manage in an even tone.
“By Christmas, I’ll be calling him Daddy too—”
His words are cut off when I shove him. He’s ready for my retaliation because he swings his violin case at me, nailing me in the ribs. It’s not hard enough to break anything, but I’ll be sporting a bruise, that’s for damn sure. Rather than continue our fight, he turns and hightails it away from me.
“That’s right, bro, run the fuck away!”
His middle finger waves at me in return before he climbs into his shiny white Range Rover. Spoiled little shit. I huff and fling open the door to my Challenger. The air has yet to cool, but Naomi’s icy glare has me feeling like shit.
“That was entertaining,” Paige sasses from the back seat. “I laughed my ass off when he hit you with his violin.” She cackles again as though just thinking about it brings her great joy.
“He started it,” I grumble, ignoring Nae’s glare.
I reach over to take her hand, but she swats it away, choosing to cross her arms over her chest and look out the window.
“Oooh, trouble with the lovebirds,” Paige hisses. “Is this because you quit the football team?”
“You can take the bus tomorrow,” I snap over my shoulder.
“Wait,” Nae croaks out. “You quit the football team? When were you going to tell me?”
“Oh boy,” Carrie mumbles under her breath.
I back out of the parking spot and peel out, ignoring everyone in the car. I’m quickly losing my shit, and I don’t want Nae even more pissed at me if I take it out on her bratty sister. With a mash of the button, I blare some G-Eazy even though Nae hates his music. The bass thumps through the vehicle, calming my nerves.