Chapter 124 Brookwood Versus St Harvey

Chapter 124 Brookwood Versus St Harvey
He kissed me like I was the one thing capable of keeping him sane, and I kissed him back like he was my lifeline.

The urgency in his kisses made me press my body further against him as he lifted me up and soon, my butt crashed gently on the porcelain sink.

A gasp escaped the back of my throat when his tongue searched my mouth for dominance.

God.

I couldn’t have enough and for a moment, we forgot the second half was less than six minutes away.

When I pulled away, his hands slid reluctantly to my arms.

Mine rested against his chest.

We stood so close that our foreheads were almost touching.

I looked up at him.

His eyes looked tired and red like he hadn't slept much either.

There was something fragile in them that I'd never seen before.

My chest ached. "Dylan..."

I breathed his name so quietly it almost disappeared between us.

The corners of his lips twitched into the faintest smile.

"I've missed you." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

The confession settled heavily between us.

I smiled through the tears threatening to fall. "I've missed you too."

"So much, "I added.

He closed his eyes for a brief second almost as though hearing those words physically relieved him.

"I kept telling myself not to come looking for you." He laughed bitterly. "I failed."

His thumb absentmindedly brushed against my sleeve. "I walked past your old room."

He looked down at the floor. "Twice."

"I even forgot you'd moved."

His laugh came again.

"Sometimes, I'd stand outside the mansion wondering why your bedroom light never came on."

I felt my throat tighten. "Dylan..."

"I still expected you to be there." He shook his head at himself. "Pretty stupid."

"No," I whispered. "It wasn't."

He finally looked back at me. "I've been a complete mess."

His confession came so quietly I almost missed it. "I know," I said softly.

Brian had told me.

He looked away again. "I didn't think everything could get worse after we broke up." His jaw tightened. "But then..."

He swallowed hard. "Then I found out Miranda..."

He couldn't even finish the sentence immediately.

I watched his face carefully.

"...is my stepsister."

His words seemed to weigh a hundred pounds.

"I still can't wrap my head around it."

He gave another humorless laugh, then clenched his jaw.

"I already knew my father was a terrible husband." His voice became rough. "But, I never imagined..."

He shook his head. "I don't even know what to think anymore."

"I don't know whether I'm angry."

"Disappointed."

"Confused."

"Or all three."

His shoulders slumped. "I've spent the last two days wondering if anything in my family was ever real."

Silence settled between us.

I slowly reached for his uninjured hand.

He looked down as our fingers intertwined.

"I'm here now," I said quietly.

He looked back into my eyes.

"I'm here, you don't have to carry everything alone," I whispered.

For the first time since I'd entered the bathroom, some of the tension disappeared from his face.

His thumb gently squeezed my hand. "You always know what to say."

I smiled weakly. "I really don't."

"I just..." I shrugged. "...don't want you hurting by yourself."

He stared at me for a long moment.

"I missed hearing you say things like that." He admitted.

My eyes stung again. "So did I."

Then his eyes darted toward the bathroom door almost as though he'd suddenly remembered where we were.

"Oh..." He muttered under his breath.

"Damn."

I blinked. "What?"

He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair again. "The game."

His voice carried fresh irritation now. "The Brookwoods are losing."

He shut his eyes briefly. "Fuck!"

He cursed under his breath as I watched him pace half a step away before stopping himself.

"I completely lost my head." He muttered more to himself than to me. "I've been playing like absolute garbage."

His frustration was obvious. "I couldn't concentrate."

"I kept seeing..." He looked back at me. "...you."

A tiny, guilty smile escaped me. "I know."

He sighed deeply. "I let everyone down."

"Our coach."

"The team."

"Myself." He looked toward the broken mirror behind him. "I've never played this badly."

I jumped down from the sink and stepped closer again. "You still have another half."

He looked at me.

"The game's only halfway done, you still have time," I muttered.

He frowned slightly. "We're down by two."

"I know." I nodded. "I saw the scoreboard."

He sighed again.

I smiled gently. "But I also know you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"I do." I nodded confidently. "I know exactly how stubborn you are."

A tiny chuckle escaped him.

"Oh?"

"You hate losing."

"I do."

"You hate Kevin too."

"I really do."

I smiled wider. "And I believe..."

I squeezed his hand. "...you're going to put Kevin right back in his place."

For the first time, a small spark returned to his eyes and it was enough to remind me of the Dylan I'd fallen in love with.

He gave a slow nod. "Yeah."

I smiled at him. "That's the Dylan I know."

He let out a quiet laugh. "I don't know if that's a compliment."

"It is." I stepped a little closer. "It definitely is."

Then I took a slow breath. "You've got this."

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

I continued before I could overthink it. "You've spent years proving you're one of the best players in this school."

"You've carried your team before."

"You've carried yourself through worse than a soccer game."

I pointed toward the door leading back to the field. "So go."

He listened quietly. "Go remind St. Harvey exactly who they're playing."

He dragged one hand through his hair, trying to fix the mess he'd made of it earlier.

Then brushed invisible dust from the front of his jersey almost like he was putting himself back together piece by piece.

He looked at me again. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"When this game ends..." He hesitated. "...don't disappear on me."

I blinked at him.

"I mean it." His voice grew quieter as he held my gaze. "I need to see you after the game."

I nodded slowly. "I promise."

His shoulders visibly relaxed. "You'll wait?"

"I'll wait."

"You won't leave?"

I smiled. "I won't leave."

He searched my face one last time making sure I meant it.

He nodded. "Okay."

I gently nudged his shoulder. "Now stop wasting time."

He grinned. "Bossy."

"You've only got..." I glanced toward the door dramatically. "...a few minutes before everyone starts wondering where their captain disappeared to."

"You're right." He took one deep breath.

"Ready?" I asked.

He looked directly into my eyes. "Ready."

Almost instinctively, we both hurried toward the door and soon, we were out towards the field.

Cheers.

Announcements.

Whistles.

Students talking over one another.

The atmosphere swallowed us whole again.

Without thinking, we practically ran out together.

Halfway down the hallway, Dylan slowed as he looked at me briefly.

Our eyes met one last time and he gave me a tiny nod.

I answered with one of my own, then he sprinted toward his teammates.

I hurried toward the stands.

The moment Dylan emerged from the tunnel, the stadium erupted.

"There he is!"

"Dylan!"

"Captain!"

Students jumped to their feet.

Brookwood's supporters cheered louder than they had all afternoon.

Even the commentators sounded surprised.

"It looks like Brookwood's captain is finally back on the pitch."

"He certainly looks much more focused."

"I wonder what happened during halftime."

I smiled to myself.

You have no idea.

The referee blew the whistle and the second half began.

Immediately, everything was different.

Dylan moved differently; his passes were sharper, his decisions were quicker, and his confidence slowly returned with every touch of the ball.

Students cheered on.

"I told you!"

"He's finally awake!"

"That little halftime break did him good."

"I knew he'd bounce back."

"He looks like himself again."

I couldn't stop smiling.

Every successful pass felt like another piece of him returning.

I could tell Kevin noticed too because his movements became more aggressive.

He started marking Dylan much more closely but Dylan was trying to remind him who he was.

Five minutes passed.

Then suddenly, Dylan accelerated and slipped past one defender. The goalkeeper rushed forward.

The stadium collectively held its breath.

Shoot!

The ball curved beautifully into the corner of the net.

GOAL!

The entire stadium exploded.

The sound was almost deafening.

Students leaped onto their feet.

Flags waved wildly.

People screamed until their voices cracked.

I found myself cheering before I even realized it. "Yes!"

A smile stretched across my face so naturally that it almost surprised me.

There he is, that's my Dylan.

The scoreboard changed.

2–1.

Brookwood wasn't done, neither was Dylan.

Kevin shouted orders to his teammates.

Brookwood answered with even more pressure.

Minutes later… another attack.

Chaos inside the penalty area.

The ball bounced loose.

One Brookwood player slid it across.

Dylan arrived perfectly with one clean strike.

GOAL!

The stadium exploded even louder.

"TWO-TWO!"

The commentator nearly shouted into the microphone.

"It's level!"

"It is absolutely level!"

Students hugged one another.

Some even cried.

The atmosphere had become unbelievable and I clapped so hard my palms stung.

My chest felt lighter than it had in weeks.

Dylan pointed briefly toward the crowd while jogging back toward midfield.

For one impossible second, it almost felt like he was looking for me.

The match restarted, only a few minutes remained and everything became frantic.

Neither team wanted penalties.

Kevin refused to back down.

He dribbled aggressively and pressed relentlessly. He clearly wanted the winning goal just as badly.

Dylan matched him every step, he was obviously controlling the game.

The final minute.

The whole stadium stood up.

The countdown echoed somewhere behind me.

"Come on!"

"Brookwood!"

"Dylan!"

One final attack, the ball found Dylan near midfield.

Kevin immediately closed him down.

The two of them stared each other down for barely a heartbeat.

Then Dylan moved with one touch.

Kevin shifted the wrong way.

Dylan slipped past him.

Another defender came.

He slipped past him too.

The goalkeeper rushed forward.

Time seemed to freeze.

Silence fell.

Shoot!

His leg swung the ball and it flew straight and fast and smashed into the back of the net.

GOAL!

The final whistle sounded almost immediately afterward.

Brookwood had won.

3–2

The stadium completely erupted.

Students screamed until their voices disappeared.

Players rushed toward Dylan as his teammates tackled him into a massive celebratory hug.

The coach threw both fists into the air.

Even the teachers were cheering.

I felt tears prick my eyes because I'd just watched him find himself again.

I laughed through the tears.

"You did it..." I whispered. "I knew you would."

Without thinking, I stepped away from the stands because I wanted to reach him.

I wanted to hug him, tell him how proud I was and to keep the promise I'd made inside the washroom.

But just as I began moving, something caught my attention.

It was Miranda and Kevin, they looked like they were arguing.

Before I could get a closer look, Miranda slapped him hard across his face and Kevin's head jerked sideways.

I gasped.