"You can't let them ruin us."
"They already did."
Talullah Bennett lost everything in the blink of an eye. She was lost in life- no job and heartbroken. The media is ruthless, after all. Desperate to escape the isolation, she decides to leave Texas...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER TEN breaking point
"But that's on all of us, not just one person. Right?"
"CAN YOU NOT?" Joe snaps, his voice sharp as a dagger. His eyes are dark with anger- it's so thick its almost palpable. I blink at the hostility, stunned, honestly. "What-" He cuts me off before I can even finish. "You got a lot of nerve, posting that picture this morning." Is he serious?
"Are you serious?" I ask, in disbelief. "A picture? You're mad over a picture?"
"Yeah, a picture. If that and your little stunt last night hadn't been distracting me, maybe we would've won. What part of focus on the game didn't you get?" My face flushes in embarrassment. He's blaming me? This is actually ridiculous.
"Distracting you? Distracting you? Maybe you should look in the mirror before trying to pin the blame on someone else, Joe," I say angrily, my fists clenched by my sides. There's a flash in his eyes, and suddenly he's inches from me. His chest heaves with every breath, and his voice is low. "I'm not pinning the blame on anyone."
"No, no, but you are!" I say loudly as the team floods into the hall, watching the spectacle.
"Maybe if you would've focused on the game, we wouldn't be sitting here, looking like idiots after losing," his voice cracks at the end, and I really feel bad now. Tee steps in, sensing that this is more than just the loss.
"Yo, don't snap at her like that, man. It ain't just her fault- we all lost." Joe ignores his teammate, his eyes glued to me. "You're the reason I've been so distracted lately. You and your constant presence. You're everywhere, all the time." His voice is raw and loud, and I don't know what to say or do.
"Maybe, just maybe, this is your fucking fault, Joe, and you just can't accept that."
He flinches, backing up from me. My eyes soften- was that too harsh?
The air between us is heavy and no one breathes. I tighten the script of questions in my hands, ready to leave. "I'm done. I'm done letting you paint me out to be the bad guy and hurt me because you can't handle whatever you have going on."
I spin on my heel, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. How did everything go south, so fast? I swear, we were just fine and now we're... not. Any chance of mending things with Joe went out the window, alongside any ounce of liking we had for one another.
I keep it professional during post-game interviews, making sure I didn't have to talk to Joe. I'd rather be locked in a room with Andrei for a week. The ride back is silent, and when we sit down for dinner, I'm agitated.
The pity glances make my eye twitch. The atmosphere is thick with remaining tension from after the game. Ja'Marr is trying to keep the conversation going, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the way Joe stabs his salad too aggressively and how I set my drink down on the table a little too hard.
