Damaged Goods: An Angsty Football Romance (All Saints High Series)

The day after Bailey goes off to rehab, I return to school.

I haven’t been in over two weeks. Spent my entire time loitering outside her hospital room. Then after she was discharged, I was too much of a wreck to pretend to give half a crap about my grades.

I’m not the only one. Pretty much everyone I know who has been accepted to a college or already sent their application has checked out mentally.

But I need to be here today. At school. I have unfinished business to take care of.

When Bailey was in a coma, and Mel and I were sitting outside her room, enjoying lukewarm hospital coffee and anxiety-inducing conversation, I remembered the moment before Jaime called us up when he found Bailey unresponsive.

Mel had just said that Thalia had visited Bailey a few hours before she overdosed and pointed out that she and Jaime had conducted a thorough drug search of the house hours before.

I put two and two together. Thalia was Bailey’s only point of contact other than me for a good chunk of time. And I sure as fuck didn’t give her drugs.

Which leaves me with one candidate…

The person who actually threatened to give her drugs. Where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire.

And Thalia right now is stinking of fumes.

I find her leaning against her locker, hugging her textbooks to her chest while Austin looms close, flirting with her. When she sees me heading in her direction, a teasing smile touches her lips.

She thinks it’s an incoming jealous scene. This girl is about as observant as a pair of dirty underwear.

Pushing Austin out of the way casually, making him stumble and fall down on his ass and drawing a few chuckles, I get all up in my ex-girl-something’s face. “Have a little walk with me.”

Thalia pouts, giving me her good profile. “I don’t know, Cole. You’re not making it awfully attractive to me right now with that tone of yours.”

I flash a seductive smile, lowering my face to brush my lips over her ear. “If you don’t take a walk with me right now, I’m going to report you to the police for soliciting and buying hard drugs, and then whatever options you still have to go to college will go down in flames, along with your reputation. How ’bout that, sweetheart?”

She jerks her head back and stares at me in horror. “Lead the way.”

Thalia turns around, shoves her textbooks into her locker, and slams it shut.

I’m already on the other side of the hallway. She follows me hurriedly. I’m doing everything I can to remain calm, but it’s hard when this idiot almost killed the person I love more than anything else in this life. I slip into the lab, and she does the same. I lock the door behind us, plastering a hand over her head.

Her eyes widen in fear. Honestly? She should be scared right now.

“Whatever Bailey told you,” Thalia starts, erecting her finger between us, “I wouldn’t believe her. After all, she’s a junk—”

I press a finger over her mouth, and the idiot immediately melts into my touch. “Let’s get one thing out of the way—the next time you refer to Bailey as a junkie or any other questionable epithet, I’ll send one of your nudes to the entire grade’s WhatsApp group. I wouldn’t put anything past me. Don’t let the dimples and good grades fool you—we both know I’m an asshole when I want to be.”

She swallows and licks her lips. I move my hand from her mouth. She nods, letting me know she got the message.

“Now, let’s establish a few things.” My hand curls around her neck. “I know you sold and/or led Bailey to drugs. I know you gave her drugs the day she overdosed too. And I know you did it because, despite my explaining to you in simple fucking English that you never were more than a warm hole, you thought you had a chance at us being something more. Correct me if I got anything wrong so far.”

Tears fill her eyes, but she says nothing. I hate the words that come out of my mouth, but I hate her more for what she did.

Plus, maybe if she hadn’t reintroduced Bailey to drugs, Dove wouldn’t have to go to rehab and could be right here with me.

This is an unhealthy thought. It is good for Bailey to be in rehab. But my feelings for my best friend may forever skim the line between love and obsession.

I don’t need someone like Thalia maliciously sabotaging Bailey.

“Whatever, let’s go with that.” Thalia’s voice is hoarse, like she’s been internally screaming for months now. Maybe she has.

I have no doubt I haven’t heard her cries. I was too attuned to one girl and one girl only.

“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. So what? You’re gonna fuck up my life in retaliation?” she bites out. “Get your rocks off by ruining a poor girl’s life?”

“Your financial situation has nothing to do with it. The fact you almost killed my best friend does.” I bang my open palm just above her head and she jumps with a yelp.

The sound echoes around the room. I need to control my temper before I lose it.

“Bailey could have said no.” Thalia tries to push me away from her, desperate for an escape. “She didn’t. She cared about drugs more than she did about you. You can point fingers at everyone and everything, but the truth of the matter is, Bailey wanted to be corrupted and I’m the only one who dared show you that.”

“You’re a waste of fucking space,” I spit out, ripping myself off of her body. She disgusts me.

“Yeah, well,” she huffs, dropping to one knee to rummage in her backpack for something. “What are you gonna do about it? Just tell me what my punishment is because I know you have something in store for me.”

“How do you know?” I ask, surprised. Thalia doesn’t strike me as a genius, to put it mildly.

She rolls her eyes, finding an elastic for her hair and wrapping it in a high bun. “If you wanted to hand me over to the police, you would have done so without this showdown. You’ve never had much interest in talking to me. It was more my pussy you were into.”

“You’re going to give me your drug dealer’s deets so I can nail this motherfucker’s coffin and put their ass in jail for a long time,” I start.

Thalia nods. That’s an easy sacrifice. “What else?”

“You’re going to write Bailey a genuine, heartfelt, sorrowful letter of apology for what you did to her.” I continue, “And you’re going to then give it to me to hand over to her when she is out of rehab.”

“She went to rehab?” Her eyes light up. “Actually, I’m glad to hear that. I was…I don’t know, worried after hearing she ended up in the hospital,” Thalia mumbles, shifting her gaze down.

Astonishingly, I believe her. I don’t think Thalia is a horrible person. I think she is misguided, with a side of fucked-up, but she lost herself too.

“And then you will remove yourself from our lives completely,” I finish. “That means I don’t want you to be anywhere in Bailey’s vicinity, ever, for eternity.”

“We live in the same area,” Thalia protests.

“Go out to Carlsbad,” I drawl out. “You gave her drugs that put her in a fucking coma, you moron. It’s jail or staying the hell away. Todos Santos is off-limits to you in eighty-nine days, when Bailey gets out.”

If she gets out. Maybe she decides to stay for longer. Maybe she relapses as soon as she leaves. Maybe she won’t even complete the program.

And what if she decides not to come back here? Needs to start fresh somewhere new?

I need to stop thinking about it before my head explodes.

Thalia takes a deep breath. “And you won’t tell anyone what happened if I do all those things?”

I shake my head slowly. “Oh, and one more thing.”

She stares at me expectedly as I stretch my palm open before her. “Bailey’s dove pendant. Now.”

She screws up her nose, looking around us.

With a huff, she shoves her hand into her pocket and hands it to me. I can’t believe she is brazenly carrying it around like it was given to her, not stolen. For a keepsake.

I put it in my pocket and immediately feel the relief of having something of Bailey’s with me.

This is not the goodbye I had in mind from this girl, who was my first time.

Then again, a lot of shit went sideways in the past few months.

“You know,” Thalia chokes out, “I knew you hated football. And I knew you were lukewarm toward me. But I always thought you’d cave.” She sniffs. “That you would accept what life offered you. It was a pretty sweet deal.”

I perch against the teacher’s desk, crossing my ankles. “It was,” I agree. “But I’ve never had a sweet tooth.”

Three days pass, then four.

I visit Jaime and Mel every day and ask about Bailey. They don’t know much. They get updates through her counselor.

Bailey doesn’t have phone privileges yet. Her counselor says she is making progress.

That she is an excellent rule-follower, and that she enjoys helping others. If this isn’t the most Bailey thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.

In the absence of Bailey, and so close to graduation, I don’t actually have much to do.

I visit our doves. I find a recipe book Mom left behind and decide to memorize it by heart. Learn how to make all of her signature dishes. Stop depending on Bailey.

So I make Mom’s rigatoni, chicken noodle soup, and cinnamon-silan waffles.

Dad complains I’m bad for his six-pack and threatens to kick me out of the house.

Knight and Luna conveniently drop Cayden off every afternoon so I can feed him dinner.

One person I’m not seeing much of is Dixie.

I want to ask Dad where they stand, but I also don’t want to come off as pushy.

Wasn’t that my whole unspoken beef with him in the first place? To each their own.

It’s a random Friday night when Grim finally manages to drag me out.

Only because there’s a fair in town and I’m trash for blue cotton candy. Grim and I patched things up quickly after he became captain, but not before I did some groveling.

Before I go out, I tell Dad I won’t be home before midnight. Grim and I like to knock back a few beers after we go out, and I usually Uber it home.

But this time, I come home at ten thirty. Grim’s fault. Guy’s got a talent for hooking up with people and ditching me halfway through the night.

I push the door to the house open and hear voices coming from upstairs.

Dad’s bedroom.

Holy fucking shit. I’m so stunned and excited I straight up don’t even contemplate not eavesdropping. Nope. I tiptoe like a cartoon robber to the stairway and strain my ears.

“…sure you want to do this?” Dad asks. I’m just happy I tuned in before he and Dixie started doing the nasty. I’m definitely bailing before it’s showtime.

“Yeah,” Dixie voice sounds certain yet a little wobbly. “I’m sure. Are you?”

Ew. They sound like fifteen-year-old virgins. Which is kind of adorable, knowing that Dad slept with, like, four digits of women before he and Mom got together.

“I want this,” Dad admits, clearing his throat. “Actually…I need this. Lev’s going off to the military and I’m going to need something to do with myself. And that something can’t be butting into my grown-ass children’s shit, you know?”

“You have a great way with words,” Dixie compliments. Dad chuckles. So do I.

C’mon, Dad. Make a move.

But instead of listening to rustling of clothes and the sound of wet kisses and being scarred for life, I hear Dixie saying, “All right. Great. We’ll do this. As friends.”

“Best friends,” he corrects. “Yeah.”

“So I’ll put down an offer right now. No point in waiting until Monday. The house is showing again on Sunday and I’m afraid someone will offer cash and snatch it.”

Uhm, what?

They’re talking about Dixie buying the house down the goddamn street? What a letdown. I thought they were gonna pork.

“What’s the problem? You’ll be paying cash,” Dad says.

She laughs. “Whose cash?”

“Mine.”

“Dean, I—”

“No, you listen to me. For this to work, you need to live close by.”

For what to work? What’s happening?

“I have the means. You have the will,” Dad coaxes.

“I—I really don’t feel comfortable with that,” she stammers.

“That’s great for practice, since you’ll be feeling all kinds of uncomfortable when you have my baby inside you. Lev came out almost eight pounds. It was a hot mess. We Coles are really huge babies.”

Ho. Ly. Shhh. His dirty talk is so rusty. Poor Dixie.

“Are you okay with…the process?” She clears her throat.

“You kidding me? Jerking off has become my specialty since Rosie died.”

Yeah. Okay. Dude’s a lost cause.

I hear the clack of Dixie’s heels as she walks around the second floor, and before I can make myself scarce, she appears at the top of the stairway.

Our eyes meet. I’m caught red-handed. But somehow, I’m more excited than embarrassed about everything I just heard. I give her a thumbs-up.

Dixie smiles, winking at me.

I wink back.

Thank you, she mouths. I nod.

I trust her with my dad’s heart.

And that’s huge.