Sweet Fall

  Why did I have to walk past them that night? Why couldn’t I have stayed clear of the quad? I already had too much on my mind. I didn’t need this mega threat too. I’d been a nervous wreck for weeks!

  After a perfectly polished hand back spring, Lyle realized I wasn’t moving and took me by my arm, pulling me from the center line and off the field. “Lexi babe, you okay? You’ve gone all white.”

  I tried to nod my head to say I was fine, but I was still trying to breathe through the memory of Austin’s threat. It made a whole lot more sense now… You forget what you seen here tonight. If you do, we’ll be good, no consequences. But if you even speak a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone, you won’t like the ton of fuckin’ bad shit that comes your way. You have no idea what you’d be screwing with. With people who will do anything to keep you quiet. And I mean anything.

  “Lexi! You feeling faint or something?” Lyle asked, pulling the attention from some of the other girls in the squad who began to eye me weird. I slowly shook my head and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  It was like a pull, a magnetic force, as I found myself drawn to face the Tide players’ bench. And immediately, I wished I hadn’t. Austin Carillo, on seeing my horrified face, left the bench, only to stand on the sideline, glaring at me, dark-brown eyes narrowed and his fists clenching at his sides. He was big, muscled, imposing… He was fear and threat incarnate.

  It was like Austin was communicating his warning just by his severe expression alone. Lyle’s hand froze on my arm, and he hissed, “Seriously, why does Carillo look like he wants to kill you? I’m getting real nervous.”

  Austin was watching Lyle talk to me in worry and Austin slowly shook his head. I understood his warning. If you even speak a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone, you won’t like the ton of fuckin’ bad shit that comes your way.

  Pulling myself together, I turned to Lyle. “It’s nothing, Lyle.”

  He scoffed. “It sure don’t look like noth—”

  Gripping both of Lyle’s arms in my shaking hands, I snapped, “I said leave it!”

  I instantly felt guilty. I’d hurt my only real friend on the squad. Lyle went to turn away, but I reached for his hand. He stopped and turned to me, his freckled face flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. But—”

  A whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, cutting me off.

  Lyle’s shoulders slumped. “Lexi, I get that you don’t wanna say, but believe me when I say stay the hell away from that guy. He’s trouble with a capital T. Whatever you did, whatever got his attention, just pray he forgets it pretty damn quick.”

  With that, Lyle ran into the throng of fans storming the field to celebrate the win. I turned to hightail it into the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. I needed space. But when I set off to run, I caught sight of Carillo still staring at me, his expression like stone, the rest of the players sprinting past him in victory.

  Ducking my head and swallowing my fear, I weaved through the heaving mass of elated fans and headed to the locker room to hide out.

  “Rome Prince is throwing a party tonight at the frat house. Ally just passed on the message,” I heard Tanya, vice-captain for the cheer squad, say to someone in the showers.

  “Awesome! You tell the girls yet?” the second voice asked.

  “Gonna do it now. I can’t wait to get my drink on! Rome’s parties are always awesome,” Tanya replied in a giddy voice, and she and whoever she was speaking to left the bathroom.

  That is it, Lexington. Stay hidden. You cannot shower with the rest of the squad. You cannot let them see how imperfect you are. You think they will not see the fat? The cellulite? See how disgusting you are as they walk around unclothed with their perfect and tanned bodies.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I rocked back and forth on the bathroom stall’s cold tiled floor, covering my ears with my hands, trying in vain to block out the torment of the voice.

  In the distance, I could hear my teammates laughing, making jokes, and discussing what to wear to the party. I envied them. They were so carefree.

  I didn’t know how long I’d been in here, hiding from the squad. From the horror of having to be in the communal showers. From having to show my too-fat body. It could have been hours or merely minutes; I didn’t know.

  Sitting up, I strained to try and catch any sounds of movement, of laughing.

  It was now silent, and I allowed myself to exhale in relief.

  Slowly standing, I unlocked the bathroom stall and peeked my head outside. They’d all gone, thank the Lord.

  Walking into the empty locker room, the smell of hairspray, perfume, and fruit-scented body wash seemed to hang like a veil in the air. I moved to my locker, taking out my wash bag and pulling out my cosmetic remover wipes, made my way to a mirror.

  For a moment, I just stared. My green eyes were rimmed with black, my face pale with my light powder, and my lips were bright red, as red as the freshest of drawn blood. This was me now. This dark makeup defined me. My mask. And removing it at night was the worst part of every day.

  With each swipe of the cotton cloth, my inner strength waned. My white-and-black makeup gave way to the pink skin of my natural face. All of my insecurities came flooding back. They always did.

  As I dropped the caked wipe into the small trashcan at my feet, I inhaled. My armor was gone.

  My eyes were firmly focused on the bright-white porcelain of the basin, but I forced myself to look up. Dr. Lund had taught me this process was an important part of my recovery.

  The instant I lifted my head and faced my reflection, I had the same reaction I’d had for too many years—my heart proceeded to plummet to my stomach and all I felt was disgust.

  There she was. Lexington. Lexington Hart. The girl with too many imperfections to ever be pretty. Everything unattractive, from her less-than-flawless complexion to the ugly spray of freckles on her nose.

  She was disgusting.

  She was fat.

  We can improve this, Lexington. Just let me in. We can reach perfection.

  My hands balled to fists on the lip of the sink as I fought the demon lurking within.

  Reaching behind me, my eyes dipped as I unzipped my skirt, slowly working it over my hips and my feet. Next came my top and my underwear, until I stood naked.

  Until I was again weak.

  Tears fell from my eyes as I stood rock still, gazing at the tiled floor. It was the hardest thing to do. Facing the real me.

  My cured body.

  One… two… three… four… I counted internally, bracing myself for what I’d see today. Would I look better? Fatter? Thinner? Worse than ever?

  Snapping open my pale-green eyes, I met my bare refection and just stared. My eyes swelled with water and my hand instinctively lifted to my collarbone. It was plumper than it should’ve been. It was once the most favorite part of my body, protruding, defined… visible. But not anymore.

  Not anymore…

  My fingers walked to the top of my arm, and my thumb and index finger pinched at the flesh of my bicep. I had to stifle a sob at how much fat I could pull.

  Once all I could pull was skin. But not anymore.

  Not anymore…

  From out of nowhere, I heard faint laughing and my head whipped around to scour the room. There was nobody there, and chills ran down my spine as I realized who it was.

  That is right. It is me, Lexington. No one else is here. Just me, looking at how much weight you have put on. And you, you are seeing the ugly effect of your gluttony too… I can see it in your eyes.

  I physically froze.

  Let me get you back to where you should be. To where you know you want to be. Just let me back in. Give me the reins. Hand yourself to me. Give yourself over to perfection.

  As if being controlled like a puppet, my hands ran over my ribs. One, two, three, four, five, six… My fingers began tapping frantically at the skin. There was too much fat. I should be able to feel up to ten
ribs, but I could only feel six. No! I could only feel six.

  My hand dropped lower, my fingers prodding the excess flesh of my stomach. Lower still. No, no, no! My hips! My hips were not protruding, not angled or defined. There was too much fat. I’m too fat. Not again! Please! I… I—

  Stop!

  Lexi… fight it! I said to myself with urgency.

  Panting hard, I came back to myself with a jolt. My pale, naked skin was peppered with red marks where I’d been hitting at my bones. Hives had broken out on my neck and chest, and my eyes were red with aggravation and stress.

  Seven minutes.

  Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds.

  Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds until I could move again.

  Until I could breathe right again.

  Until I could fight the voice in my mind, trying to make me fall.

  I felt exhausted. Like I was David who’d just taken on Goliath. But my Goliath never died. He never ever went away. Could not be defeated, just, at best, kept at bay. And my heart fell when I thought of what my life would be like with him always in my mind.

  I was determined not to let him win.

  Walking to the empty showers, the pipes groaned when I turned the lever and let the water fall on my head, washing away the near miss… washing away the negativity.

  You are beautiful, Lexi. You are strong. You are perfect just the way you are, I recited in my mind. Dr. Lund had taught me to use mantras to stay positive. Positivity was half the battle, or so Dr. Lund had said. And I tried real hard to maintain my grip on that lesson. Hell, I stuck my nails in and held on for dear life.

  Chapter Eight

  Lexi

  Ten minutes later, I was showered and dressed. Knowing the coast was clear and all the coaches and players had left for the night, I made my way out of the locker room.

  Clutching my bag to my chest, still feeling raw and exposed, I walked slowly down the hallway, dragging my feet. When I was halfway, a huge crash saw me almost trip in fright. My head whipped to the direction of the noise—the players’ locker room.

  My heart was pounding in my chest in fear, and I was just turning to leave, when an agonized deep, loud roar echoed down the hallway and wrapped around me. Whoever it was sounded in pain. Tormented. Like his soul was being ripped out.

  I instantly felt drawn to the sound. After all, pain attracts pain.

  Before I even had a chance to realize it, my feet were carrying me toward the Tide players’ locker room… toward the person seeming more broken than myself. Toward someone who might just understand.

  The closer I got to the door, the more the crashes increased, until silence ensued and a pained shout ripped from someone’s throat, ricocheting off the metal of the lockers. As I reached the door, I wondered if I should take any more steps. The person might want to be alone. I was probably intruding. But I couldn’t seem to turn away.

  I stared at the closed locker room door.

  It was three more steps.

  Three more steps until I pressed on the handle and crossed the doorway to see who was in pain.

  Three more steps until I could maybe, perhaps, be of help.

  Clutching my gym bag closer to my chest like a shield, I took the final step through the door and immediately froze at what was before me.

  Carillo.

  Austin Carillo on the floor, his packed and muscled torso free of a shirt, boasting an intricate collage of both dark and colorful tattoos. He was leaning his back against the cold door of a locker, head in his hands, breathing hard.

  I watched silently as I fought with what to do. Carillo was clearly in pain, but it was me. He hated me, had threatened me. I was probably the last person he’d ever want to see.

  Resolved to just quietly leave him to his grief, I lifted my foot to turn when Carillo’s head snapped up and I found myself frozen in shock.

  Austin’s dark eyes were bloodshot with stress, his dark stubbled cheeks red from where he had obviously rubbed aggressively at the skin. But his sadness ebbed when he saw me, and his jaw clenched in annoyance.

  Oh shit. I’d made a mistake.

  A really big mistake.

  Austin’s hands hit the tiled floor and he abruptly pushed himself off the ground. His six-foot-four height seemed to loom over me, even from his place across the room. Our gazes were locked, and my hands and legs began to shake.

  He was angry…

  And I feared him.

  He was a gangbanger, a Heighter. He’d been arrested multiple times. His brother had served time. And I was now alone with him. Alone with him and he was seething. His anger seemed directed toward me. There was no one there to help me.

  Carillo began to move forward but stopped a few steps away. He radiated danger and darkness like the sun radiated heat. It was a force field around him, an aura, and it only served to scare me even more.

  Almost black-brown eyes narrowed as Austin studied my face, and I gripped my gym bag harder. But something in his expression changed as his eyebrows rose, and I frowned.

  What’s he seeing that’s so shocking?

  And then I remembered. I hadn’t reapplied my makeup. I’d been so shaken by how easily the voice had gotten through to me I’d just wanted to flee home.

  I felt embarrassment, an intense embarrassment that he was seeing me so raw and imperfect. I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. He hated me, and I feared him. But I did care. I cared so deeply that he’d seen the real me.

  The girl who didn’t measure up.

  The girl with too many flaws.

  “What the hell’re you doing in here?” Carillo said coldly, shattering my thoughts, his emotionless expression again firmly on his face.

  “I-I-I—”

  Austin stepped farther forward. From his nearness, I could smell his scent, a deep woodsy musk, the smell of a hard-played game. It just added to his darkness.

  “I-I-I what?” He laughed, unfeeling. “Why d’you always turn up where you’re not wanted? When you’re not wanted? In places you ain’t supposed to be?”

  I swallowed back nerves and tried to back away, but he thrust out his hand, gripped my arm, and jerked me forward.

  I let out a small yelp. His touch wasn’t painful. In fact, he was barely touching me at all, but he’d surprised me, and I reluctantly looked into his eyes.

  “Did you tell that guy cheerleader anything today?” he hissed quietly.

  Unable to find my voice, I just frantically shook my head ‘no’.

  Austin’s fingers tightened on my arm. I instinctively tried to pull away.

  “Answer me! He was staring at me in fear the whole fuckin’ game!”

  Inhaling deep, I managed to squeak out, “I didn’t tell him anything.”

  Austin’s narrowing eyes told me he didn’t believe me.

  “I promise, I didn’t. I swear it. I told the dean nothing when he spoke to me. And Lyle… Lyle caught you staring at me a few times and warned me about it. That’s all.” Wrenching back my arm, I rubbed at the tender skin.

  Austin ran his hands over his dark hair and exhaled a relieved breath. But his eyes didn’t leave me for one second.

  As I watched him, it seemed like he was fighting against something inside. But then his face frosted over. His intimidating Heighter mask was back in place.

  “You better not let what you saw get out,” he warned icily. “I’m watching you.”

  Finding strength from somewhere unknown, I moved right before him, and this time, he stilled. “I told you I wouldn’t say anything, and I won’t. I know what it’s like to have a secret, to have something revealed that you want to keep well hidden. Believe me, I do. So I won’t say a thing to no one, but you are making people talk. You are the one messing up, glaring at me like you wanna murder me, garnering people’s attention when the dean already suspects I’ve seen something. You’re not successfully hiding your emotions.”

  He didn’t say anything in response, and I lowered my eyes from his inte
nse gaze, only to come face to face with a huge tattooed crucifix on his bare chest, a crying Mary, Mother of Christ at its base and Mary looking up at Jesus in agony, her face ripped apart by grief at seeing her son strung up on the cross… dying.

  They were everywhere—religious tattoos—covering almost every inch of his upper body, and he had full sleeves on each arm. Most were religious, some in a foreign language. It looked like Italian.

  Austin’s huge arms suddenly crossed over his chest and his nostrils flared with anger. “Just get the fuck out,” he ordered coldly.

  Without hesitation, I turned around to leave, only glancing back to bravely say, “You terrify me, Carillo. I’m afraid of you. Are you happy about that? I know who you are, the family you come from, where you come from. I’ve been reliably informed. So you can stop with the threats, the dirty looks. I get that you’re bad news. I get it. You’ve got me unable to sleep at night with fear. I know you’re dangerous and you would probably have no remorse in harming me, if I talk. I’m not dumb. So I beg, please, just leave me alone. I will never speak about what I saw. But I need you to leave me alone.”

  I didn’t stick around to see his reaction. I just ran all the way back to my sorority house and up to my room on the fourth floor.

  Just as I passed Cass’s open door, Ally’s voice shouted, “Lexi! Come here, darlin’!”

  Stopping dead, I dropped my bag and walked into the room, plastering on my usual fake smile. Cass and Ally were sitting on her bed.

  “Hey, guys!” I sang, seeming like the happiest girl in the world.

  “Argh!” Ally shrilled and jumped up to hug me. “You were amazing today, honey! I’m so proud of you!” As Ally pulled back, her mouth dropped open.

  I immediately became self-conscious. “What?” I asked.

  “You look beautiful, darlin’. I’ve never seen you without all your dark makeup before.”

  “Hell yeah, you do, girl. Fuckin’ hot!” Cass added from her bed where she was drinking a Mason jar filled with her home-brewed moonshine. She was a redneck through and through.

  Fidgeting with my damp hair, I mumbled a reluctant, “Thank you.”