Love, Ally by Hannah Gray

five

Cole

Finishing my last rep, I push the bar up. My muscles are screaming with pain. But truthfully, I don’t mind. The pain distracts me from my thoughts constantly going back to Ally.

Walking over to my water bottle, I squirt some into my mouth.

The image of Ally’s face flashes across my mind as she saw me and whoever the fuck that girl was I took into the restroom. I guarantee she thinks I fucked her. She’s wrong. I didn’t.

That was the point—for her to see us. I wanted her to hurt because she’d hurt me. But when I saw her face, shit, it made me sick to my stomach. I’d never intentionally hurt that girl in my life. Well, until then.

She tried to hide it, play it off with some snide remark, per usual. But I know that girl better than the back of my hand. She was hurt. And if I’m being honest with myself, no matter how pissed I am at her, I still have a lot of love for Ally. She’s my fucking family. I’m man enough to admit when I fucked up.

And fuck up I did.

“You never did tell me what the fuck was up with you and that sexy, dark-haired beauty from the movies,” Knox says next to me, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel and then throwing it over his shoulder.

“Dude, you call her sexy again, and I’ll rearrange your teeth,” I threaten him without thinking twice.

“Oh, simmer the fuck down, would ya? Geesh, someone’s panties are in a bunch.” He chugs down his Gatorade. “Anyway, I want to know, what the fuck is up with you two?”

Shrugging, I say, “Nothing to tell, man.”

“Oh, fuck off. A blind person could see that you two had history.” He shakes his head. “Come on. Tell Knoxy boy. Don’t leave a brotha hanging.”

I sigh. “We grew up together—that’s all.”

“As in Florida?” he asks, completely oblivious.

“No.” I shake my head. “Ohio.”

I’ve never told him that I grew up in Ohio, bouncing between shitty foster homes.

His eyebrows pinch together. “Ohio? I thought you were from Florida.”

I blow out a breath. Fuck, I did not want to get into this with him. “I moved to Florida a year ago with my adoptive family. I had grown up in Ohio with my dad but moved to a different part of the state when I was twelve to live with a foster family,” I explain, having to all but force the words out.

Luckily, Knox and I came earlier than the rest of the team to work out, so it’s just us here. I hate opening up to anybody about this shit, but Knox and Weston are quickly becoming like brothers to me. So, eventually, I’m sure I’ll have to tell Weston too. Though I have to admit, I’m sort of glad he’s not here right now. I don’t think I could handle spilling my guts to both him and Knox at the same time.

His eyes grow wide. “Fuck, man. I had no idea. Sorry.”

“How could you? I keep that shit to myself.” I play it off with a grin and smack him on the side. “It’s no big deal. Don’t go turning into a pussy on me. I can’t be changing a litter box and buying you cat food,” I joke.

From what I’ve heard, Knox grew up in a traditional mom-and-dad household. He’s the oldest of four kids. I’m sure they probably traveled to Disney World and shit as kids. Likely ate pancakes for breakfast. I bet the Easter Bunny and Santa always found his house. Shit, he probably even had a lunch box with a matching thermos. So, I’m sure my situation sounds traumatic to him. And trust me, it was. But it’s also all I’ve ever known.

Weston doesn’t talk about his family much, leading me to believe that, like me, he has some skeletons dancing in his closet. Then again, I think everybody does.

“So, you knew each other from Ohio?”

“Yeah. We met when we were twelve.” I don’t tell him she was a foster kid as well. That isn’t my story to tell; it’s Ally’s. “Anyway,” I say, needing to change the subject, “did you make it right with the blonde chick?”

I guess she didn’t take to him cheering me on to get laid last night. That was a knucklehead move on his part. You don’t take a chick to the movies and do something like that. Chicks are too sensitive for that.

“Nope. She thinks I’m a slimeball.” He grimaces. “Not that I can blame her. What the fuck was I thinking, yelling that dumb shit out?”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I eye him over curiously. “Why do you care so much? You met her once.”

“She’s hot—that’s why. And she seems cool,” he answers quickly, but I can tell it’s more than what he’s letting on.

Knox seems like the type of dude who could sleep with any girl he wanted, but in the end, he just wants a girl to cuddle with and take home to his mom. He wants someone sweet and nice. The safe choice.

Not me. I want someone who can stand beside me. Not behind or in front of me. She needs to be bold and strong. That’s why I know Ally is it for me. She is the strongest damn person that I know.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but if you pissed Blondie off, then you likely pissed Ally off too. And that girl doesn’t play,” I tell him honestly.

If you’re in Ally’s circle, she’ll do anything and everything in her power to keep you safe. And if she trusts that blonde chick, she’ll be loyal to her. Which I’m guessing she does, or she wouldn’t have gone to the movies with her. She would have told her no.

Good news for Sloane, bad news for Knox. Ally is fierce. And sometimes, she scares the piss out of me. Though I’ll admit, I enjoy provoking her. At the movies, I knew she was likely losing her shit, watching me flirt with those annoying-as-fuck girls. I expected her to jump up and tell them to get the fuck away from her man. Only she didn’t. That’s when Operation Restroom came into play.

Looking back now, I see that it was all immature as shit to do. But there was the devil on my shoulder, telling me to punish her for her sins. And leaving me was a big fucking sin.

“Great. Now, I have to make it right with not only Sloane, but Ally too?” He groans.

“Afraid so, brother. Afraid so.”

“Oh well. Let’s go to Lenny’s. I’m fucking starving.”

“Sounds good, big dawg. Let’s roll.”

Lenny’s is a restaurant right off campus. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall, but they make a mean burger. Over the summer, we ate there basically every day. But now, with double practices and classes, we’ve had no time. It beats the hell out of cafeteria food.

It’s killing me that I don’t have Ally’s new number. She changed it way back when she left Charlotte’s Falls. I tried to get information out of my foster parents, Dave and Marion, but they were mute. They are both shady fuckers anyway. Hell, I’ve even entertained the idea that they ran her out of town. Only problem is, I can’t think of a motive.

I wasn’t mad that she went and found herself a family. Because if they were decent to her, then great. I mean, it still sucked for me and went against our pact, but if it gave her the life she wanted, even better. All I ever wanted was a good life for that girl. And even though I wanted to be the one to give it to her, I would have been happy if someone else did it first.

What’s unforgivable for me is the way she went about it. In the couple weeks that I was gone at football camp—which I had been lucky enough to get chosen to not only attend, but to also go for free—she left. She changed her cell phone number and never reached out. Gone like a fucking ghost. Quit her job, disappeared from the foster home, never so much as glancing back. Not even for the person she’d said was her soul mate. To me, that’s bullshit.

But now, she’s back. That girl who fixed me after everyone else in my life broke me down, well, she left too. Leaving me once again shattered, incomplete, empty, and even more fucked upthan before. Oh, and spiteful.

So fucking spiteful.

Now that she’s within arm’s reach, so close that I could hold my hand out and touch her smooth, creamy skin, I can’t trust her anymore. Not after she took off so callously.

That’s the fuel behind the part of me that wants to hurt her the way she hurt me. Only more.

The only problem is, the other part of me—the bigger part—wants to pull her in and never let her go. I want to make her realize how much she missed me while she was away. I want to make her cry out my name like she used to and make her laugh until the tears are rolling down her cheeks again. I’ve missed that so much. I’ve missed her so much.

Now the question is, which part of me is going to win? That’s the fucked up part. I already know the answer. She’s my kryptonite, my drug of choice, and the only one who can bring me straight down to my knees. I can’t push her away, no matter how badly I want to.