Chapter 38 Oops. You Can't.

Chapter 38 Oops. You Can't.
The next few days blur together in a haze of community service, school, and the constant knot of anxiety in my stomach. I spend my afternoons picking up trash along the highway and sorting donations at the local shelter, all while counting down the hours until the tournament. Jake has been picking me up after every shift, which is sweet but also exhausting because he keeps pushing the same conversation.
Today is no different. He pulls up to the school parking lot after my latest service hours and kills the engine. I’m already yawning as I unbuckle my seatbelt, my shoulders aching from hours of manual labour.
“Ri, seriously,” Jake says, turning in his seat to face me. “You look wiped out. You have school all morning, community service all afternoon, and now practice? This is too much. I think you should sit this one out, at least give yourself a break before the tournament tomorrow. The pressure is going to break you.”
I shake my head and grab my bag from the floor. “Jake, the only reason I’m not suspended or expelled right now is because I’m useful to the team. If I bail on practice or the game, I lose my leverage and my mom finds out exactly what happened in that locker room. Besides, scouts are going to be there tomorrow. This is my shot to show them what I can do. I can’t afford to look weak.”
Jake sighs but thankfully doesn’t argue further. I lean over and kiss him quickly on the cheek. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you after practice.”
As I reach for the door handle, he catches my wrist quickly. “Hey… I’m on your side, you know that, right?”
I soften for a second. “I know.”
With that, I step out and jog toward the field, tying my hair up as I go. My legs feel heavy, but the moment I step onto the grass the familiar rhythm of practice takes over. We run drills, work on set pieces, and scrimmage for nearly two hours. Sweat drips down my back and my muscles burn, but it feels good to lose myself in the game for a while.
When Cole finally blows the whistle to end regular practice, we gather at midfield, breathing hard. He stands in the centre with his clipboard, looking every bit the calm, commanding coach.
“Tomorrow is the tournament opener,” he says, voice carrying across the group. “I think you’re all aware that there will be scouts in the stands. This is not just another game. This is your chance to show everyone what this team is made of.”
He pauses to let it all sink in, his eyes sweeping across the field.
“Because of how important tomorrow is,” he continues, “I’m making one change to the line-up.”
Sarah straightens beside me, a hopeful glint in her eyes.
Cole’s gaze moves over all of us before landing on me. “Riley Bennett is back as team captain.”
A ripple of surprise moves through the girls. Jenna and Mia clap me on the back. Sarah’s face twists with anger.
“This is bullshit!” she bursts out. “That psycho attacked me in the locker room and now she gets rewarded with the captaincy again? What kind of–”
Cole cuts her off with one sharp look and Sarah’s mouth snaps shut immediately. She crosses her arms and glares at the ground, but she doesn’t say another word.
“Unless you want to spend the next season filling our empty water bottles, Ms. Pickett, I suggest you keep your outbursts to yourself.” He says, his voice leaving no room for argument. Then he turns to the rest of us. “You’re dismissed. I expect you all to be well rested for the game tomorrow.”
We start filing off the field. As I pass Sarah, she leans in close enough that only I can hear.
“I’ve given you more than enough time to do what you’re supposed to do,” she whispers. “It’s about time you face the consequences of your choices.”
I keep walking without responding, but her words settle like ice in my stomach.
The next morning, Emma and I are getting ready for the game in my room. She is fully decked out in team colours, wearing my old jersey from last season and bright face paint on her cheeks. I pull on my fresh practice kit, lacing up my cleats while she chatters excitedly.
“I just know you’re going to kill it today, muppet,” she says, adjusting the stripes on her cheeks in the mirror. “And I’m going to be the loudest one in the stands. Mom said she’ll rush back from work during her lunch break to catch at least the second half.”
I force a smile. “Thanks, Em. That means a lot.”
We head downstairs together. Mom is in the kitchen packing a small cooler with snacks. She pulls me into a quick hug before we leave.
“I’m so proud of you, honey,” she says, kissing my forehead. “Win or lose, you’ve worked so hard for this. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I reply, hugging her back tightly.
As we walk out to Emma’s car, my mind keeps drifting. I didn’t get much sleep last night. After Sarah’s whispered threat yesterday, I kept checking my phone every few minutes, waiting for the video to drop. Every notification made my heart race.
And Cole hasn’t been much help either. He’s been avoiding me all week, barely looking at me during practice. If he was going to handle Sarah and Haley, he obviously hasn’t done it yet. The fact that Sarah is still walking around hale and hearty proves that. The anxiety kept me up most of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering how long I have before everything explodes.
Emma glances at me as she starts the car. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing lightness into my voice. “Just nervous about tomorrow.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Is it because of that guy you’ve been secretly seeing that you don’t want to tell me about?” I glance at her quickly and she shrugs. “Lena told me you’ve been secretive lately so I figured.”
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s… not that.”
That brief hesitation is enough. Emma opens her mouth like she wants to say more. “There’s something I probably should have told you earlier–”
Just then, I spot Sarah being dropped off by her boyfriend, some slick-looking guy in a suit who I heard works on Wall Street. I cut Emma off quickly. “We’ll talk at home, Em. I need to get to the field. Thanks for the ride.”
Emma nods, though she still looks concerned. “I’ll be rooting for you from the stands. Go show them what you’ve got.”
We head in opposite directions, her toward the bleachers and me toward the field. The team gathers for a brief pre-game briefing from Cole. His voice is steady as he runs through final instructions, formations, and what the scouts will be looking for. When he finishes, we start filing out onto the pitch.
Sarah falls into step beside me as we file in. “How was your night, Bennett? You look tired.”
“Bite me,” I reply without missing a beat.
She smiles sweetly. “Soon enough. Just came to give you one last chance to back out. Walk away now and maybe you make it out of this with your dignity intact.”
“You know what? You should go ahead and post that video,” I say, meeting her eyes.
A flicker of surprise crosses her face.
“But first maybe ask Josh, Marcus, Tyler and the rest of the guys you sent to do your bidding to tell you exactly what happens when they mess with me–” I tilt my head, “...actually, scratch that.”
I smile.
“They’re not exactly available for comment, are they?”
I flash her my sweetest smile and keep walking. For the briefest second, I catch a flash of real fear cross Sarah’s face before she masks it.
And the game begins.
Everything starts well. We control the midfield early, and I find my rhythm quickly. I win tackles, make crisp passes, and even set up the first goal with a perfectly timed through ball. The crowd cheers, and for a while the anxiety fades into the background. I’m doing what I love, and it feels right. For a second, I almost believe I made it through this.
At halftime we head to the bench for water and quick adjustments. Cole gives us a short pep talk, his eyes lingering on me for a second longer than the others. I look away, still angry and confused about everything.
The second half starts strong. We’re up by one and pushing for more. Then the halftime entertainment segment begins on the big jumbotron above the stands. A few sponsor ads play, followed by hype clips of our team from earlier in the season.
Suddenly the screen changes and my stomach drops as a familiar party scene fills the jumbotron.
No.
No no no...
The camera follows a group of guys carrying a drunken girl upstairs. Even though her face is not showing yet, my knees almost buckle beneath me in horror as I stare.
The crowd starts murmuring in confusion as the clip continues.
My legs stop moving. My heartbeat roars in my ears as the angle changes and I see it.
My hair.
My body.
Me.
My stomach drops. The floor feels like it’s moving beneath my feet as I realise the extent of the damage. My mom is here somewhere in the stands. Emma is here. Scouts are watching. The entire school and half the city are about to see the edited video that makes it look like I willingly went upstairs with all those guys.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I don’t even blink.
I just stand there frozen on the field as the nightmare plays out in high definition above me.