Page 6 of Nothing to Lose

Coach: Mandatory team meeting. Ten minutes.

Silence stretches around us for a tense moment before we both start moving. Whatever barriers just broke down between us, I’m determined to keep down. We made progress, even if it’s just a little, and I’m not going back to how it was before.

Chapter 5

Hunter

Eli and I arrive at the team clubhouse at the same time as everyone else, the cool autumn wind whipping around our faces. It’s colder than is typical for this time of year, the trees already dropping their burnt sienna, rust, and faded yellow leaves to the ground, long before I was expecting them to.

We stand among hushed whispers, some louder than others, all of us just as confused as the next person. I find Silas standing with Rome and Dean at the front of the room and head their way, Eli right next to me. He rubs his hands over his bare biceps, and I’m half tempted to take off my hoodie and give it to him so he can be warm, but I’m smart enough to know that wouldn’t end well. Especially not here.

“You got a reason for playing like shit lately, Blackwood?” Rome asks Silas, a bit confrontationally.

Silas runs his hand through his blond hair and squares off with him. “I’ll get my shit together; worry about yourself, Rome.”

“I am, which is why I’m asking why our captain is failing so miserably this year. Heard it wasn’t just on the field either. You’re really being tutored by that dickweed, Asher?” Rome laughs, but I don’t see the humor in it. I’ve had a few classes with Asher Ambrose over the last few years, and he’s one of the smartest guys at Corvus. There’s no shame in needing extra help, and if Silas needs academic support, getting it from Asher is the way to go.

Before I can grasp what’s happened, Silas jolts forward, gripping a handful of Rome’s T-shirt, slamming him against the clubhouse wall. Eli and I spring into action, grabbing Silas and trying to separate them as Rome attempts to shove Silas back before it breaks into an all-out brawl.

“What the fuck, man?” Rome yells.

“You need to learn when to shut your mouth!”

“Hey, hey, hey, everyone cool it,” I say, trying to diffuse the escalating situation.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem, Cap? Can’t take a joke anymore?” Rome asks, still running his mouth. Eli pushes Silas back, and I step between them, facing off with Rome.

“Cool it. Fighting is the last thing we need. Clearly you hit a nerve, so do yourself and the team a favor and shut the fuck up, got it?”

Coach walks into the room a moment later, and Rome nods curtly at me. Our coach is a tall, muscular, intimidating man who looks like he could throw one of us the length of the field like a goddamn javelin. There are rumors that he’s related to one of the Corvus founding families, but he’s never confirmed or denied it. Somewhere in the library there’s a book that has traced the lineage of each family, but I’ve never cared enough to see if he’s actually in it or not.

Eli stands off to the side of Silas and looks my way, probably making sure Rome is under control. I nod at him, mouthing “bullet dodged,” before he takes a deep breath that I can see from here and looks away. He’s so uptight, taking everything too seriously. All summer he practiced on his own, worked out religiously, and studied. The. Entire. Summer. No matter how hard I tried to get him to do other things. His discipline is unmatched. I respect him for it, I know he has goals he wants to reach. Hell, so do I, but I’d like to see him find some enjoyment, some fun. At least once in a while.

“Alright, listen up. I don’t know what’s happening, but in all my years of being a coach, I’ve never had a team play so independently shitty. It’s like each of you is out to prove yourselves as individuals, and not as a team member. The Corvus Rugby program is one of the best in the country, and here we are looking like a bunch of assholes running in circles! And you!” Coach turns to face our captain, Silas. He’s stoic, standing up a little straighter, his face cocky and defiant, ready to accept whatever wrath our coach is about to bestow on him. “You’re distracted. I can see it! The team sees it! It’s clear as day! Get your head outta your ass, or I’ll replace you!” Damn. Even my head bounces back. That’s not a threat anyone wants to hear. I take a few steps closer to Eli, like a moth to a flame.

“Yes, Coach.”

Coach Henley takes a deep breath, bracing his hand against a chair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he continues. The redness in his face starts to dissipate after a few tense moments, his composure returning, and then so do his next words.

“We’ve been losing, playing like shit, and we need to fix that and fix it now. So, I’m forcing some team bonding. Time to learn to play as a team. This coming weekend, we will be spending three days together. This is mandatory. If you miss it, you’re off the team, and you can forget about your spring season.” I snort in amusement. This should be fun . . . and interesting. Eli’s elbow meets my stomach the moment the noise leaves my mouth, forcing a deep grunt to follow that everyone in the room hears. Coach’s head whips in our direction, and Eli’s back straightens as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Something funny, boys?”

“No, Coach, I’m ready,” Eli replies at the same time I say, “Sounds like a good time!” Eli shoots me a glare that could shatter glass, and I shrug in return.

“You two idiots just got tasked with coming up with the events. I want games and good old-fashioned team bonding. Better be good, or it’s you two who will take the blame for it going to shit.” Well, I am not hating the idea of more time with Eli, even if he looks like someone just pissed in his cereal. Guess that gap we bridged an hour ago just fell into the abyss.

After Coach dismisses us, the team leaves the clubhouse and heads out into the evening. The sun has started to set, dark clouds blocking the orange glow from reaching campus, a thick fog rolling in and dancing around our ankles. It’s ominous, but I’ve never been one to believe there are other things at play, even if the majority of the people who live at Corvus would argue otherwise.

The school was founded in the early sixteenth century by a group of five friends—the five original families of Corvus College. Each family has descendants of either Abel Thorne, Edmund Mortwood, Francis Harrow, Isabel Ashcroft, or Cecelia Grimsley who attend here today. They’re the school’s elite, even if some of them don’t act like it. They created the school with the intention of teaching the unconventional, the dark, the wicked, and the morose. They excelled in that area because none of us are studying conventional degrees.

Each residence hall is named after a family, and students are placed based on their area of study. Eli and I? We’re in Grimsley Hall because we’re majoring in either sciences, psychology, or sociology—but make it dark. I’m studying both psychology and sociology so I can explore both individual behavior and the larger social systems that shape it. And failing miserably at doing both.

The team splits off, heading to their halls, Silas not following us to go back to Harrow House, which is next to ours, instead jogging off toward the library, leaving Eli and me to ourselves. We pass under the old Veritas Tree when two massive ravens land on a branch directly over our heads, croaking loudly. Then, like they called it forth themselves, the clouds open up, and we’re pummeled with rain. Our clothes are immediately wet, our shoes slapping through puddles on the old cobblestone sidewalks as we race toward the steps of Grimsley Hall. I watch Eli closely the entire way, hoping that the added pressure on his knee isn’t bothering him too much. I had plans to force him to elevate and rest it all night, but like usual, nothing went as planned.

“Fuck, where did that come from?” Eli asks as we make it under the detailed arch of the portal. His face is covered in rain droplets, his cheeks flushed from the wet chill in the air. His hand swipes his hair from his face, pushing it back and slinging water everywhere. I have a moment where I’m stunned quiet, completely enamored. Eli’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. He thinks I’m always trying to fuck with him, and part of me is, mostly in an attempt to get him to lighten up, but my jokes are laced with truth, and he has absolutely no fucking idea.

I shake off some of the water clinging to me. “I don’t know, but let’s get inside. Last thing we need is to get sick.”