By the Playbook

By the Playbook (34)

                I'd only met Jonathan Green twice. Once, when I was twelve years old and attending one of my father's business parties with him. It was the time when I could usually giggle my way into closing business deals just by smiling at the older people around me, and I'd assumed that the same would work on Jonathan. He'd looked at me like I was the dirt under his shoe, sticking around only long enough to snap a few words at my father before stalking away.

The second time wasn't long after Oliver and Emily had started dating. It was Thanksgiving, and Oliver had insisted we come home with him. Jonathan had been locked in his study when we'd arrived, and had come out for dinner only to insist that we, his rival's daughters, leave. The hatred he held for my father hadn't ended with the latter's death, apparently. Olivia had lost her temper, and Emily and I had been asked to stay, but Jonathan flew to New York City that night. Not long after, he'd moved out, and I hadn't seen him since.

Ryder had assured me many times that his father's opinion of me didn't matter to him. What he hadn't realized, I knew, was that Jonathan still affected the Green family on a daily basis, regardless of what they thought. As far as I knew, the only one who was still in contact with him was Farrah, but Ryder put it down to the fact that she was Jonathan's favourite.

I followed the junior towards the changerooms. His eyes were wide as we weaved through the crowds, half running, and I sped up to keep pace with him. "Did Jonathan come to the change room?" I asked.

He shook his head, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "He was outside talking to a scout with Gavin while Coach ran us through pre-games, but he came in running. He was freaking out, hitting the lockers and yelling at Gavin. Coach got involved, everyone was yelling – Gavin grabbed me and told me to go find you, and if I couldn't, one of his brothers." He explained.

I nodded, brows pulling in. "Alright," I said, wondering what in the hell I was supposed to do that his mother couldn't. As the freshman opened the door, I jogged through, wincing when I heard a locker rattle loudly.

Coach's eyes were wide when I walked in. "You're not allowed to be in here," he said, sounding like he hated himself for doing it.

I just shot him a look, peering around the locker room. There was a group of boys against the back wall, looks of relief covering their faces as the noticed me, and I offered them a half smile as I rounded the corner.

My heart broke when I saw what was waiting there. Ryder was slumped against the wall behind a row of lockers, his arms propped on his knees and his head hung between them. Gavin was sitting on the floor next to him, only their arms touching, and his sad eyes turned to me as I walked up. Wordlessly, I pressed my back against the wall and slid down to sit next to Ryder, resting my head against his shoulder.

He didn't look up. I didn't expect that he would. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Ryder shook his head. His shoulders shook visibly, even under his padding, and I clenched my jaw, hating Jonathan with everything that I had in me. I looked to Gavin, who leaned his head back against the wall. "We were outside talking with some scouts from Boulder," he said quietly. "Jonathan was there, standing a few feet away and watching us, but we didn't notice at first. He didn't say anything, but, uh..." he looked to his friend and shook his head. "He's here. We came inside."

"Liar," Ryder said miserably, his voice muffled under his arms. "I froze. I couldn't breathe, man. It's like I looked at him and was ten years old again, getting screamed at that football would never be anything more than a high-school hobby for me. I just..." he looked up, then, his face wet with sweat and tears. "He left, Addie," he said quietly, his voice breaking. "Why'd he come back now? Why did he have to decide now was a good day to acknowledge that we're alive?"