Eastwood Academy

Chapter 52: Object of Ire

When I walk into Eastwood's varsity locker room to prepare for the soccer game tonight, I feel a sense of relief so extreme it's staggering. Looking around to make sure I'm alone, I slump against the wall and put my head in my hands.

I'm here early because I couldn't stand a moment more of my parents, not to mention Winnie or her family. God, she's relentless. Not to mention unbearably stuck up. I wish with all my heart I could go back in time and tell myself not to hook up with her.

Today's the first time I've seen her since our unfortunate tryst last summer. Even when I was on my worst behavior with girls, girls like Winnie weren't the type I usually went for, but my father was hosting a party at the end of junior year, and she happened to be there.

My father has been in business with Simon since I was young. He saw fit years ago to warn me that if I didn't do whatever was necessary to keep Simon's little princess (ew, just fucking ew) happy, there would be hell to pay. Hooking up with her definitely wasn't what he had in mind, but it got the job done and gave me an hour's respite from playing happy family with my parents.

Just like back then, today I bit my tongue and did what my father wanted me to, but now I've completely fucked myself over with Brooklyn. Brooklyn. Just thinking her name sends a pang of longing and pain through me.

I wonder how she's doing and what she's thinking after having to endure Winnie and her God awful attitude. Winnie couldn't be bothered to speak to Brooklyn or even acknowledge her past a requisite greeting. And because both of our families were here watching us like hawks, I had to play along with her delusions and pretend that I was interested in her. And in doing that, I hurt Brooklyn. Again.

But at least one good thing came out of today. My father is finally convinced that there's no girl at Eastwood who's distracting me and that I was telling him the truth about the fight after Homecoming. Brooklyn is safe from him. He was nauseatingly pleased to see me interested in someone he deems "appropriate company."

But god, Brooklyn must hate me now. Despite being afraid of my father, if it was just myself on the line, I never would have acted the way I did today. Now I have to explain this whole mess to her. I'm sure she's going to give me hell over Winnie, and I can't blame her. I would, too. But I'll find a way to explain it. I'll tell her all the shitty details I'm ashamed to admit to about my childhood and grovel in front of her father if I have to, now that my own horrendous father has been placated.

I might be cold to a lot of people, and I might not be the most upstanding, fun-to-be-around guy, but I'm different for Brooklyn. I'm better with Brooklyn. I act better for her. I allow myself to be gentle around her in a way that no one else has ever seen except-

Avoid. I remind myself. I have plenty of things to make me feel shitty without thinking about Imeria.

Determined to distract myself, I pull on my shorts and jersey, then pull out my phone. Mindlessly, I scroll through Tiktok, watching whatever pops up on my feed.

After about five minutes, a new video from Beth's account pops up. The caption is "Make new friends but keep the old. Eastwood family is forever! #Eastwood #Eastwoodalums #GoJaguars.

I recognize the location, it's right outside the girls dorms. Tyler is in focus in the frame, with a couple other guys who look vaguely familiar off to the side. Tyler kneels and I see Marina behind him. She clambers onto his shoulders and he lifts her up, laughing.

Then the frame resets, with Aaron taking Tyler's place. He drops into a crouch, and I sit bolt-upright as the girl behind him comes into focus. No. Fucking. Way.

A visceral anger tears through me as Brooklyn steps up behind him, getting into the same position as Marina did with Tyler so that her legs are on either side of Aaron's neck. Brooklyn lets out a scream as he stands up with her on his shoulders, his hands finding her calves and then moving up to securely grip her thighs.