Sweet Fall

  I wasn’t beautiful. They were just trying to be nice. That’s all the more-beautiful-than-thou Ally knew how to be—nice. But I couldn’t bear to receive insincere comments. Couldn’t bear to be lied to.

  “So what’s up?” I asked, moving to sit on the edge of Cass’s bed and moving the conversation on from the subject of my looks. I waved my hand in dismissal of Cass’s offer to take a sip of her moonshine.

  “Rome’s throwing a party at his frat, and we’re going,” Ally said. My stomach churned. That would mean Austin would be there. He lived in the same frat house as Rome. Which meant I wouldn’t be welcome.

  “I think I’ll pass, guys. I’m beat,” I tried to say, but Cass interrupted by shooting off the bed, stumbling as her feet hit the wooden floor.

  Perfect. She was already halfway to trashed, which would mean a night of looking after her.

  “Don’t even think it! You’re coming! Molly’s already bailed, choosing to stay here and study. Nothing Ally and me say is changing her stubborn English mind. So you’re not dropping out on us.”

  Ally folded her arms across her chest, smirking at Cass, who reached out to hold her desk in support.

  Rolling my eyes at her drunken state, I said, “Fine. I have to get ready.” I stood and headed out the door.

  “That’s right, Sexy Lexi, Goth the fuck up! Tonight’s gonna be epic!” Cass shouted to my retreating ass.

  Picking up my gym bag, I made my way to my room to get ready. Epic my ass, I thought. More like a damn catastrophe waiting to happen.

  Chapter Nine

  Austin

  You terrify me, Carillo. I’m afraid of you. Are you happy about that?

  That chick’s comment was running through my head as I lay on my bed, and I felt sick. She feared me and I didn’t even know her damn name. And I hated it, this whole shittin’ mess. My mamma had taught me never to do wrong by a woman, and here I was getting all up in that cheerleader’s face, stalking her movements, and grabbing at her arm. And all for the sake of the crew! My life was so fucked up.

  My mamma would rightly be ashamed. But I had to protect my family. The last thing my mamma needed was for one or more of us to get put inside. Who would look after her then?

  Right after the game, I’d got a call off Axel. Mamma was bad. Real bad. He’d had her at the free clinic, and they prescribed more meds. She was having one of her bad spells. And we didn’t have the cash to cover the cost of the meds yet, so Axel had to bring her back in pain.

  I’d waited until all the players had left the locker room, then tore the place apart. And then in she walked, the fuckin’ Goth cheerleader. Except she hadn’t looked too much like a Goth. I liked the Goth look; she was dark like me. But without makeup, she looked so different… She looked beautiful, and my heart almost exploded in my chest.

  But of late, she was seeing too much of me and my family. And I’d had to scare her away. It was my duty as a Carillo.

  A knock sounded on my door and in walked Rome. He nodded at me warily and took a seat on my sofa. The freshman were all downstairs in our frat house, getting set up for the party, so we as seniors could chill until folks started arriving.

  Rome took the remote for my TV and turned it on; SportsCenter was his choice. With disinterest, I watched the presenters recap the NFL games from last Sunday.

  “You gonna talk about what that call was over after the game?” Rome eventually said without taking his eyes from the screen.

  I flashed a glance in his direction. He was wearing his usual sleeveless Tide shirt and jeans as he leaned on his hand. He must’ve felt me looking at him and he looked my way.

  “Well?” he pushed, and I sat up on the edge of my bed, elbows leaning on my knees as I ran my hands over my head in frustration.

  I couldn’t speak about my mamma. It was too damn painful.

  “Carillo. C’mon, man. Something’s going on and it’s eating at you. Is it your mamma?”

  Sighing, I looked over at my best friend and the concerned frown on his face. “Yeah. She’s getting worse.”

  Rome’s face fell. He loved my mamma to death. She’d been a mother to him when his own didn’t wanna know him. She’d cared for him, listened to his problems, and watched every football game we both played.

  “What needs to be done?” he asked bluntly.

  I shrugged. “Don’t know, some wonder pill she needs.”

  “So get it. What’s the problem?” he said plainly.

  My gut clenched and I glared at him.

  Rome leaned forward and said, “Austin, if this is a question of money, you know I’ll—”

  “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t even finish that damn sentence. I’m not taking anything from you. I know you mean well and all, but that won’t be happening.”

  Rome stood and began pacing the room. “Fuck, Carillo! Don’t be so damn stubborn! You know I’ve got the cash to spare. My grandparents left me millions… millions, eighty-three! And shit, but after all your mamma did for me as a kid, I’ll gladly give it. I ain’t got nothing else to spend it on. If my daddy has his way, I’ll be running Prince Oil before long, and I’ll be a goddamn billionaire!”

  Walking across to Rome, I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him from pacing. As he looked up at me, I could see the anguish on his face about my mamma. About his daddy putting pressure on him to reject the NFL draft and take over the family business. My best friend was hurting too.

  We were both fucked.

  “One: you ain’t gonna run Prince Oil. You’re gonna get drafted and go pro. You know you’ll be a first round pick in the draft. Keep on to that plan. And two: as much as I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, for Mamma, with your money, it’s not gonna happen. Axel won’t accept it. Him, Levi, and me will sort shit. We’ll get it done.”

  Rome scoffed and shook his head. “How will you get it done? The Heighters? Is that the answer to your money problems? Coke? Is that how you’ll get done?”

  Ice ran through my veins. “Ain’t your concern, Bullet.”

  Rome planted his hand on my shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong. It is my damn business. I don’t wanna see my best friend, my brother, locked up for dealing cocaine. Your life’ll be ruined. And I’m telling you now, Carillo, you go down this road, I won’t support it. I can’t see you being dragged back into that life. Not when you got the NFL in your sights.”

  Knocking away his hand, I moved back to the bed and slumped down.

  “Carillo? What the fuck?” Rome said angrily.

  “I ain’t dealing, so calm the fuck down.”

  “But Axel is?” he said knowingly.

  I nodded and Rome moved to sit beside me, both of us staring forward into the distance. We said nothing for several seconds.

  “And now Levi,” I said reluctantly.

  Instantly, Rome froze.

  “Levi? Fourteen-year-old fuckin’ Levi? Christ, Austin! No! You said he was just on the fringe of the Heighters. Not dealing for them!” he shouted, this time even more pissed off. Rome liked my kid brother. Wanted more for him.

  “Yeah, man. My little bro. Levi’s old enough now to contribute. Axe will get him out when it’s all over. We Carillos are getting shit done the only way we know how.”

  “Illegally,” Rome muttered.

  I shot him a shitty look. “Don’t matter how, Rome, just as long as Mamma goes pain free. We both know it won’t be forever. A couple ’a hundred grand now, and then I’ll work on getting us all hell out.”

  Rome turned to me. “Austin, I’m begging you now. Let me pay for her treatment. No loan or payback. Let me just gift it to you… for her sake.”

  I slapped him on the back, my throat clogging with gratitude. “Not happening, man. But I’ll never forget what you offered. It’s more than anyone’s ever done for me.”

  It may have sounded stubborn, but I wasn’t taking any money from my best friend. Not a dime. Mamma wouldn’t want it. She’s a proud woman… and I’m her equally prou
d son.

  Rome and I both sat in quiet contemplation for a while before he stood up and walked to the door, the atmosphere between us now calm.

  “Downstairs in ten, you and me need a drink,” Rome said, and I relaxed knowing we were passed our differences.

  “Sure, man.”

  Rome opened the door. Just as he was about to leave, I asked, “That English chick you’ve been spending time with—”

  “Molly?” Rome answered. “What about her?”

  “That little Goth chick she hangs ’round with, the cheerleader…”

  Rome’s eyes narrowed as he tried to picture who I was talking about, and a minute later, an expression of recognition flashed across his face. “Yeah?”

  I glanced down, not meeting his eyes. “You know her name?”

  Rome was quiet for a moment, and when I looked up, he was thinking.

  Shrugging, he answered, “Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, something like that. Maybe Lexi? Yeah, I think it’s Lexi.” His brows furrowed. “You gonna tell me why you wanna know?”

  I stared at him blankly. Rome laughed and tapped twice on the door. “Didn’t think so. I’m out.”

  Once again, I was left in my room, alone. The first thing I pictured was her face—Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, maybe Lexi? Whatever—and immediately I felt like shit.

  You terrify me, Carillo. I’m afraid of you…

  One hour later and the frat house was teeming with people. I stood nursing my beer in the corner of the room with Rome. Rome was like a damn junkie, twitching, rocking from one foot to the other as he leaned back on the wall beside me, watching the door. He’d already rejected every groupie who had come his way. Rome was a player through and through, and I found his sudden disinterest in the opposite sex fuckin’ hilarious.

  That English chick, Molly, was really getting to the guy.

  Rome was talking to me about nothing important when suddenly I saw Ally, Rome’s cousin, enter the house, followed by JD’s woman, Cass, who looked drunk as all hell.

  I didn’t notice her at first, but trailing at the back was her. Lana, Lucy, Lizzi, maybe Lexi—whatever the fuck she was called—dressed all in black: a black long-sleeved shirt-thing that showed her tiny waist, so tiny I could probably fit one hand around it, a black short skirt, black pantyhose, black heels, her hair curled to the side like Dita Von Teese, with huge black-rimmed eyes and dark-red lipstick.

  Fuck. Much to my annoyance, she looked good.

  She was smiling at Cass running her mouth when, suddenly, she glanced up, all pale-green eyes looking my way. We locked gazes for a few seconds before I remembered her words from earlier. I need you to leave me alone. Gripping my beer in hand, I turned and forced my way through the mass of drunken Tide players and groupies until I burst outta the back doors into the humid night air.

  “Austin!” I heard my named called from beside me. Reece sat at the fire pit with the other freshman players. I flicked my chin and made my way over to the surfer-looking second-string QB—all blond hair and laidback attitude—dropping my now-empty Corona into the trashcan.

  As soon as I stood before him, Reece handed me a new bottle and the rookie linesman beside him, Collins, moved out of the way to let me sit.

  “You good, man?” Reece asked, grinning wide. The kid was okay really. I just couldn’t speak to him like I could Rome and JD. Took someone real special for me to let them in, to tell them about my life.

  Slapping my hand on his shoulder, I nodded my head, telling him I was good. Reece turned to talk with Caleb Baker, a young wide receiver, about Tanya, the vice-captain cheerleader strutting across the lawn. I left them to it—I didn’t wanna talk about some fake blonde whose only troubles were what color lipstick she would choose to wear to class on Monday.

  Leaning back against the bench, I looked up at a sky full of stars, and I inhaled. Why is it that when you’re faced with the billion tiny lights of the galaxy, you feel a comforting sense of unimportance, like your problems are nothing? That there’s more to life, to the world, than what you think, like humans are all part of some big plan, a grand design God set out for us to play out. But as soon as you look away from that blanket of diamonds, all your problems slam home once more, and any shit you’re going through crushes you. All issues you have stab you in your chest, and everything’s illuminated.

  “Where’s he going?” I heard Reece say as I stared down at the floating lime in my Mexican beer. An elbow nudged my side. Looking up, I saw Reece pointing to Rome sprinting across the street in the direction of a sorority house. Reece was still looking at me in question, so I shrugged my shoulders.

  Glancing across the patio, I saw Ally, Cass, and JD hanging out by the grill. But that cheerleader was nowhere in sight.

  When the conversation around me shifted to this year’s holiday plans, I knew it was time to move on. I couldn’t sit here, the trailer trash thorn among the roses, while the guys discussed their white picket-fenced houses and cookie-cutter families, sharing gifts and Christmas fuckin’ cheer.

  “I’m out,” I told Reece as I stood up and walked through the manicured garden into the frat summerhouse. Only Rome and me had a key to this place. Pretty fucked up of us, I know, but as the most senior members of both the Tide and the frat, our word was law. Rome rarely came back here anymore, so it was mostly mine. Christ knows I had to get away sometimes.

  Reaching for the key in my pocket, I fished it out and opened the wooden door, deciding not to turn on the lights. If I did, drunken coeds came trying to use it for a fuck pad. Didn’t wanna cope with that tonight.

  The summerhouse was small but one helluva stunning place: all wooden walls and floors, thick red drapes at the windows, two brown leather couches, an open fire, a small kitchenette, a TV, and the crowning glory, a huge fuck off skylight in the ceiling, flooding only the center of the house with light. Just another example of how footballers get treated in this town.

  What twenty-one-year-old frat boy needs a fuckin’ summerhouse? But I spent a lot of time here. I couldn’t bear parties like this, watching guys playing beer pong and cracking on chicks, when Mamma could be in her trailer, lying in pain, or my brothers could be getting shot in a drive-by. I had to keep my head down and just get to the draft. That was my role in this mess. To get drafted and save us all.

  No pressure.

  Football was my way out.

  It was my answer.

  It’s the answer to all the Carillos’ prayers.

  Slouching on the sofa, I pulled out my phone. Axel had texted me.

  Axel: Made enough cash for those pills for Mamma tonight. Levi’s doing good on the streets, picking up good trade. Mamma’s doing better than a couple of hours ago. Managed to get her off to sleep. We’re getting it done the Carillo way, Aust. Let’s keep it going.

  But just as I put my phone back in my pocket, feeling numb, all hell broke loose outside. Seeing flashes of light shadowing on the light wooden walls of the summerhouse, I jumped up and pulled the curtains shut, leaving just enough room through the heavy velvet material to see what was happening. I was pretty far back here at the house and shaded by some trees. Whatever was going down, I should be safe from view.

  Then I saw uniforms.

  Campus police along with real cops, holding dogs on leashes, stormed the party. Some students were running; some were too drunk to realize what was happening. And then I saw the dean step out onto the patio, his eyes roving the crowd as he strutted in his expensively tailored gray suit.

  Fuck, that cunt hated me.

  The cops lined up the partying students one by one, and the working dogs began their search. Shit, the K-9! My stomach fell when I realized what they were doing—looking for drugs.

  Several students were running across the street, trying to outrun the raid, and the cops were chasing them down. I was just thankful I’d chosen to come hide out in here, but then I heard a rattling at the summerhouse door.

  Slamming the curtains shut, I glanced to the doorknob… and I saw it was
unlocked.

  Shit!

  Before I’d even had a chance to get across the room to block whoever was trying to get through, the door flew open and someone slipped inside. I froze, stock still, as the door pushed closed and whoever it was pressed their back against the wood and sighed in relief as they locked the door. Where I stood was pitch black; they didn’t even know I was here.

  I could barely see the outline of a small figure. It was a chick. I could also smell her perfume, so unless one of the Tide players had decided to go Coco Chanel on our asses, it was definitely a female.

  Inching closer along the blackened edges of the room, I tried my best to be silent. Whoever it was couldn’t scream and reveal where we were, I had to make sure of it. The last thing I needed was the dean questioning me about the drugs. The fucker already thought I was responsible for the cocaine on campus. Whenever there’d been trouble here in UA over the past three years, he’d always put the blame on me. Only this time, he was right.

  The chick was panting heavily, unmoving against the shut door. Blinking my eyes, trying to focus, I reached out and accidently touched her arm. The chick began to shriek, so gripping her shoulder, I turned her around, slamming my hand over her mouth to muffle her scream.

  Legs began kicking and her hands smacked at my arms. Placing my mouth at her ear, I whispered, “Hush, bitch! I ain’t gonna hurt you. Just stop fuckin’ screaming!”

  Her legs quit flailing and her hand grabbed my wrist, trying to wrench it from her mouth. I needed to make sure she wasn’t gonna scream no more. I couldn’t let her go until I was sure she wouldn’t cause a damn scene.

  “I’ll move my hand from your mouth when I’m sure you’re not gonna draw their attention. Okay?” I said in a hushed tone, trying my best to sound non-threatening. But I wasn’t stupid. Some guy muffling a chick in a dark summerhouse wasn’t exactly gonna scream safe. Warm hard breaths flowed from her nostrils as she tried to calm, and her nails that were stabbing into my skin slackened some.