Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) (31 page)

Feeling restless and frustrated, I rake a hand through my hair.

Fists clenched, I simply wait.

I wait for one single word to erupt from their damn yaps.  I’ve already been pushed to the limit today.  One measly syllable from either of them and I’ll completely lose my shit all over their damn asses.

Taking seats next to me on the bench, Roan is the first to clear his throat, “You okay, man?”

I jerk my head into a tight nod not really wanting to discuss the photograph or anything else that has to do with this clusterfuck of a situation I now find myself embroiled in.

Neither of them utters a word as we continue gearing up.  But that doesn’t stop two sophomore assholes from bellowing out a few choice comments. Pissed off, I throw down my helmet before straightening my shoulders.  If I have to beat the shit out of a couple loud mouths to get them to shut up, then I’ll do it.

At this point, I’m aching to use my fists.

Just as I get ready to walk over there, Roan stills me with a hand to the shoulder.  And because this has been one hell of a messed up day, I let the pair of them knock a few heads together instead.  Within moments, all of the noise dies down until the entire locker room is as silent as a church for Sunday services.

When Liam pushes his way through the door not two minutes later, I know there’s going to be issues.  Almost immediately his eyes fall on me before a huge grin spreads across his face.  “Hey, nice ass shot, Harper.  Very artistically done.  Didn’t know you had it in you.”

My voice is nothing more than a whipcord tight growl. “Shut the fuck up, Garrison.”  Like I want to hear any shit from him.

Liam chuckles before shrugging his shoulders like my words are nothing more than water off a duck’s back.  “What’s the big deal?  I thought it was hilarious.”

I don’t even bother responding.  Liam and I are teammates, but he doesn’t know dick about my life.  Most these guys don’t.  Which is exactly the way I’ve chosen to keep it.  Here, in this locker room and out on the field, I just want to be Sam Harper.  Not Senator Harper’s son.  Ignoring him, I continue taping up my wrist.

When I say nothing in response, Dylan finally snaps, “It’s not funny at all.”

Roan shoots Dylan a look before finally asking in a low voice, “Does your father know?”

I shake my head.  I’m certainly not looking forward to that conversation when his people finally fill him in either.  Because they will.

The smirk slowly morphs into a questioning look as Liam asks, “Why would his parents find out and honestly, so what if they do?  It’s not a freaking sex tape.  You just need to chill and go with it, dude.”

Dylan shakes his head before muttering, “Don’t you know who his father is, dumb shit?”

Liam raises a brow before glancing my way with a little more interest.  “Should I?”

“Does the name
Senator Derek Harper
ring any bells for you?”

Liam’s eyes widen before slicing to Roan for confirmation, as if Dylan might just be fucking with him.  Apparently their solemn attitudes are enough to convince Liam that it’s the truth.

“Seriously?”  Slowly he scratches his chin, his eyes holding mine before I give a tight nod.

“Isn’t he running for re-election soon?”

“Yep,” I bite out.

The media will have a freaking field day with this and I’m never going to hear the end of it.  I will never live this down.  And the thought of Gavin or Ari seeing that photograph has a sick knot settling in the pit of my gut.

“Sorry, dude, I had no idea.”

I shrug.

Harper isn’t all that uncommon of a name, so I’m usually able to avoid being linked to my dad.  I could have gone to school out of state, but when Violet chose Barnett, I wanted to stick close as well.

A dull ache starts to throb behind my eyes.  Unconsciously I bring my hand up to massage my left temple.  I still can’t believe she did this to me.

Mind officially blown.

Grabbing all his stuff from the locker, Liam starts stripping down before suiting up.  “So how’d this even happen?  Who leaked the photo?  Some pissed off ex-girlfriend?”  His eyes settle on mine as he waits for an answer.

Christ. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.

Feeling aggravated, I plow my fingers roughly through my hair again. I wish to hell it had just been some pissed off chick with an ax to grind.  That I could deal with.  But I know damn well it wasn’t.  Because I’ve spent a little bit of time inspecting the picture, hoping to find something that would prove that it’s nothing more than a photo shopped piece of garbage.  But it’s not.  In the upper corner of the photo is the brown leather messenger bag Violet always carries around with her.  I’d recognize it anywhere.

It’s only then that I notice both Roan and Dylan have stopped what they’re doing and are staring at me, waiting for an answer as well.  They want to know who fucked me over.  Even as I open my mouth, the words stick in my throat.  So I do the only thing I can and shrug my shoulders, refusing to say anything at all.

Roan finally asks, “Do you know who did this?”

I jerk my head into a tight, barely perceptible nod but don’t say anything more about it.  I just want to shut down this entire line of questioning.

Dylan finally says, “What does Violet have to say about all this?  I’m sure she’s pissed as hell.”

There must be something in my expression that gives me away because Liam sucks in a harsh breath before releasing it slowly.  “No fucking way, dude.”  He continues shaking his head in disbelief.  “Violet wouldn’t do something like that to you.”

My narrowed eyes cut to his.  Yeah, I wouldn’t have thought so either.  But more than that, it pisses me off to hear him defending her like he knows anything about Violet at all.  He doesn’t know a fucking thing about her.

As soon as I’m suited up, I walk towards the large metal doors that lead out onto the field.  I can’t sit here for another moment as this shit continues to circle viciously in my head.

I need a grueling practice to kick my ass.

I need to turn it all off.

For just two damn hours.

Then, when I’ve finally cooled down and can think clearly again, I need to figure out exactly what the hell I’m going to tell my parents because it’s not a matter of
if
they find out.

It’s a matter of
when
.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My heart is literally sitting in my throat right now.  He won’t return any of my calls or text messages.  Nothing.  It’s not like Sam to just ignore me.  Not in all the years I’ve known him, has there ever been this kind of stereo silence between us.

Not ever
.

And I find that the more time that slowly slips by, the more anxious I become regarding what this means.

I just about died when I woke up and saw that picture.  The picture
I
had snapped when he was sleeping now splashed across Instagram and Facebook, not to mention a few other websites that are solely devoted to the Barnett football players.  And in case I hadn’t already seen it first thing this morning, tons of people had rather thoughtfully forwarded the picture to me.

I could only sit there, filled with silent shock and horror.

I mean…
I took that picture
.

It was private.

Meant solely for me.

Sam hadn’t even been aware that I’d snapped it.  Which, yeah, makes this situation like a bazillion times worse.

So much worse.

No matter how long I sit here racking my brain, I still can’t figure out how it ended up online.  How the hell did someone get their hands on it?  I mean, did I somehow, inadvertently, forward it?

I… I don’t think so.

But I don’t know.

It’s not like my phone was ever lost or stolen.  It’s been in my possession the entire time.  I
always
have it with me.  I never leave it lying around.  Blinking my eyes, I stare down at it in the palm of my hand.  I can’t remember a time within the last few days when I didn’t know exactly where it was at all times.

So this makes absolutely no sense.

And it’s not like I showed anyone either.

Not even Mia.

Shit.  Shit.  Shit…

I still can’t believe this is happening.

Mia knocks softly on my door before hesitantly poking her head in.  “You awake?”  Already I can tell that she’s seen the photograph.  It’s there in the somber tone of her voice.  It’s like she’s reconfirming, without actually saying a word, that this is a huge freaking deal.

Probably all of Barnett has seen that damn picture by now.

Including Sam.

Thick waves of nausea continue to swirl their way through my belly.  Any moment they’re going to shoot up like a geyser.

“Yeah,” I finally rasp.  It still feels like I’m in shock.  Like this is nothing more than some god awful nightmare I’m going to jerk out of with a pounding heart and a shitload of relief.

And do you know what the first damn thing I’m going to do once I wake up?

I’m going to grab my phone and delete that picture.

Wipe it right off the face of this earth.

I never should have snapped it in the first place.

Obviously I realize that now. 

Only it’s too damn late because this isn’t a dream that I’m going to magically wake up from.  Nope.  The unfortunate reality is that I took a naked picture of Sam without his consent or knowledge, kept it on my phone, which has now, somehow, been leaked to the entire Barnett student body.

And Sam won’t answer any of my calls or texts.  There’s suddenly a wall of silence between us that I can’t seem to penetrate.

Which pretty much means that he knows the photograph is out there and that I’m the one who snapped it.

Not saying a word, Mia carefully pushes the door wider before slinking in and taking a seat gingerly on the edge of my bed. “You’ve seen it?”  Even though her words are asked in query format, it’s not really a question at all.  I’m sure she can tell by the look of utter devastation written across my pale face that I’m still reeling from impact.

I simply nod as moisture gathers in my eyes.  I’ve been trying to hold back the tears ever since I first realized that Sam is ignoring me.

Knowingly declining my calls.

Sending them to voicemail because he doesn’t want to speak with me.

But looking into Mia’s wide green eyes, seeing the deep well of sympathy there has the dam finally bursting and the unbidden salty wetness searching desperately for an escape route.

This is a big fucking deal.  Sam’s dad is going to blow a gasket when he finds out about this.  And it’s my fault.  I did this.  All because I had wanted to capture a moment.  Something that felt infinitely precious.

“Have you spoken to him yet?”

Just barely do I shake my head.

And that only makes everything a thousand times worse.  Sam has that unique ability to settle everything within me.  It’s always been like that between us.  Maybe it’s because he was the first real friend I made when I came to live with my grandparents after the accident.  Or that, for the last eight years, we’ve been inseparable.  Or that he’s the one person I can count on to help me weather whatever storm life throws my way.

I don’t really know the reason.

I just know that it is.

“I’ve tried texting and calling but he’s not answering.”  My eyes latch onto hers as if they’re some kind of lifesaving device.  I can’t help but whisper brokenly, “He always responds.  No matter what.”

“Maybe he’s in class?”  Even though she’s trying to be positive, I know better.  That has absolutely nothing to do with it.  Sam would still answer me.  Through text, at the very least.

Again I shake my head.  “He knows, Mia.  He has to know by now.”

How could he not?

I found out about it before I even rolled out of bed this morning.

Her teeth sink into her lower lip before she reluctantly nods her head.  “I’m sorry, Vi.”

I can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes from my mouth.  If there’s anyone who has something to be sorry about, it’s me.  Not her.  I’m the one who created this mess.  “Thanks, but this doesn’t have anything to do with you.  I shouldn’t have taken the picture.  I don’t even know why I did it.  He was sleeping and…”

My words trail off for a moment before I admit the worst part, “He doesn’t even know I took it.  I never told Sam that I had a naked picture of him on my phone.”  Acknowledging those words out loud has sharp bolts of heat filling my cheeks.  It only slams home the gravity of the situation.

Of what I’ve done.

Oh my God… who the hell does something like that?

Gulping, she squeezes her eyes shut before burying her face in her hands.  “I…”

But that’s all she says.

Sitting up, my arm slips around Mia before rubbing her back in soft slow circles.  I have no idea why she’s this upset.  But I appreciate her concern.  I appreciate her being there for me as a friend.  And Mia has always been that.