I knew something was off when I woke up that morning.
It was the week before Thanksgiving, and as if preparing for our game on Saturday wasn’t high stress enough with a playoff chance on the line, the entire team was wound tight from tests and papers due before the holiday, too.
Every day presented me with new challenges as captain — from setting up non-optional study halls for the players I knew needed it, to talking down my best guys from panic attacks, I’d seen it all.
Fortunately, I was in a good headspace to handle it.
My grades were high, and I’d planned ahead to get any assignments done early that I could so that I was able to be available during this demanding week for my team. On the field, I was excelling, our win streak stacking up and putting us closer and closer to the playoff spot we aimed to clinch. If we won our game this weekend, we’d be a shoo-in.
And off the field, outside of the classroom…
I had Julep.
But on the morning of November 17th, I woke with a pit in my stomach for a reason I couldn’t explain. The weather was shit, my head was pounding, and when I texted Julep good morning, she didn’t respond.
Normally, I wouldn’t have worried. I would have assumed she was busy. But I’d felt her growing distant lately, something brewing in her that I couldn’t put my finger on. The other night, she’d ripped at my clothes so frantically she’d nearly burst into tears. I’d stopped her, holding her, and for the first time, she slept in my bed without us fucking first.
She didn’t say a word.
And she was stiff in my arms the entire night.
So, when she didn’t answer my text two days later, I was immediately anxious. And I couldn’t shake it — not with my morning run in the freezing mist covering Boston, not at practice — where Julep was uncharacteristically absent, and not as I turned in my last assignment before the holiday. I still had no text from her, and I tried calling, only for her to send me to voicemail.
So, I texted again.
Me: Hey, didn’t see you at the stadium today… you okay?
I still hadn’t heard from her when I made it back to the house and found my roommates setting up for a party.
“What’s this?” I asked, tossing my bag against the bay window bench. Leo and Kyle were carrying a keg into the kitchen.
“What’s it look like?” Kyle shot back like the smartass he was.
I glared at him, readying all the reasons why a party was the last thing we needed two days before a big game. But before I got the chance, they set the keg down and Leo walked over to me.
“The team is stressed, Cap,” he said, no hint of his usual carefree smile. “Between the pressure of the game this weekend and all the tests… we all need a break.”
“Most of us already finished our last classes before the holiday today, anyway,” Kyle said. “And those who haven’t aren’t going to pick up a textbook until after the game Saturday. We all know that.”
He had a point.
I sighed, folding my arms as I considered.
“Low key,” I told them, pointing a finger right at Kyle when he smiled victoriously. “I mean it. The team, whatever girls they want to invite, but that’s it. Not an open house. I don’t want to see a single player doing anything other than drinking beer. And we start kicking people out at two at the latest. We have practice tomorrow.”
“It’ll be a light one,” Kyle argued. “It’s the day before an away game.”
“Take the party past two and I’ll show you a light practice,” I threatened.
Kyle rolled his eyes and waved me off but didn’t push me — and I knew even if he was annoyed by my decision, he’d respect it.
No one wanted a grueling practice the day before we played.
Every bone in my body ached as I climbed the stairs to my room. All I wanted was to eat, shower, and crawl into bed. I was exhausted — mentally and physically.
But now, I had a party to host.
I flopped down face-first onto my mattress, heaving a sigh and allowing myself a moment of self-pity before I rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. My phone was practically burning in my pocket, so I pulled it out, stomach dropping when I still didn’t see anything from Julep.
Me: If you’re sick, I can bring you soup.
I wondered if that was too much, so I threw in a joke, too.
Me: Or I could come give you a massage… from the inside.
I could imagine her rolling her eyes at the text as I peeled myself out of bed and jumped in the shower. I had to move before I could get too comfortable, otherwise I’d never get up.
There was still no response from her when I got out.
I tried one last time.
Me: I hope you’re okay. I miss you.
I stared at the text, debated, and then deleted it all and tried again.
Me: Party at ours tonight. Team is stressed… me included. If you feel up to it, you should come.
I hadn’t even put the phone down before I got a response.
Julep: I’ll be there.
I chose not to drink — not because the thought of an ice-cold beer or two didn’t sound appealing, but because I wanted to be in my best shape for practice tomorrow and the game this weekend.
I noticed I wasn’t the only one on the team making good decisions, because the keg was lasting longer than it usually did, most of the guys nursing their beers and drinking water in-between.
We liked to party, and we clearly needed to cut loose. But we were still athletes, and performance on the field outweighed everything else.
I was honestly pleasantly surprised that my roommates had followed my wishes. It was a party, sure, but it was small, low key, and only about half as loud as our usual.
It was almost eleven and Julep hadn’t shown yet.
I made the rounds, checking in with various pods of players scattered around the house before I found Zeke, Clay, and Leo in the kitchen.
“Hey, Cap,” Zeke greeted me, lifting his cup of water and tapping it against the side of mine.
“Boys,” I said in return, taking a sip before I sat my hip against the edge of the counter. We had a sweeping view of the house here, and we took in everything happening. “No girls tonight?”
“You know Riley,” Zeke said. “She’s serious when it comes to school. Her last test is on Monday, and she doesn’t want to have to study when we’re on the road.”
I nodded, my already high respect for her ticking up a notch. “And G?”
Clay smirked. “Reading dirty books and highlighting all the best parts for us to try after the win.”
I arched a brow. “You mean when we get back to campus, right? Since Coach has made it clear you two aren’t allowed to be in the same hotel room when we travel.”
“Of course,” Clay said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. His wink gave away that he was full of shit.
“You’re one to talk, Cap,” Leo said, pouring himself a shot of tequila. I grabbed it and poured it down the sink before he could take it, pointing at the keg. I meant what I said about nothing other than beer. Begrudgingly, he sighed and refilled his cup before adding, “We all heard about the girl in the pool.”
I’d become so good at covering for us now that my neck didn’t even heat as I blinked at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” he said, waggling his brows. “You just don’t want to tell us who she is.”
“I bet I could guess,” Zeke said.
I took a drink of water, bored. “If you could, you’d know more than me. I didn’t even catch a name.”
Leo let out a shocked laugh as Clay covered his mouth with one fist and said ohhh.
“Damn, Cap,” Leo said, smacking my chest. “Ruthless. Even I get the name first.”
“What’s the point?” I said, hoping I sounded just a nonchalant as I did every season when I happened to let a girl take me home for a bit of stress relief.
“Yeah, yeah,” Clay said, smirking. “We all know. No time for anything but football for Holden Moore.”
Leo started in on telling us a story about some girl on the cheerleading squad who’d been playing hard to get, and I let my eyes wander the party, looking for Julep.
I felt Zeke watching me.
I glanced his way, and he just arched a brow, stepping a little closer to me and away from the other two. “Who ya looking for?”
“Just looking.”
“Ah,” he said, lips turning down as he nodded. “So… you wouldn’t want to know that Julep is here?”
I knew I did a shit job of covering the way my whole body stilled at the mention of her name. “Is she?”
Zeke’s lips flattened. “You suck at pretending you’re not into her.”
“Apparently not,” I said, glancing at Clay and Leo who I was fairly confident didn’t have a clue.
“She’s drunk,” Zeke said after a moment.
That made my grip on my cup tighten a bit, the plastic crunching.
“And I saw some kid I’ve never seen before offering her a Xan.”
That did it.
My façade cracked, and I tossed my cup in the trashcan before grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him away from Clay and Leo.
“Where is she?”
“Game room,” he answered, nodding toward the back hall. I turned, but he caught my sleeve. “She doesn’t seem herself, man. Be careful.”
I shrugged him off, putting it out of my mind that he clearly saw right through our bullshit and knew more than he should. I could deal with that another time.
Right now, I had to find her.
Shoving through the building crowd, I tried not to let my thoughts spiral as I searched the house. She wasn’t in the game room like Zeke had said, so I tried the bathroom, and then the living room.
No sign of her.
I climbed the stairs to my room, but she wasn’t there either, and then I lost every fuck I had about staying calm and started beating open the other bedroom doors.
Leo’s was empty. Braden had a girl half naked in his and was pissed I’d interrupted. I barely got an apology out before I left and stormed toward Kyle’s. I kicked the door open.
And there she was.
Although, with just one look, I knew the real Julep wasn’t really there at all.
Her body was there, sure — sweat glistening on her chest, hair matted to her slick neck and forehead, dark eyes nearly black where they were glazed and half-open. But there was barely any light beyond those eyes, barely any recognition of me towering in that doorway and Kyle jumping off the bed.
“What the fuck, bro?” he yelled, getting up in my face. “A little privacy, please?”
Julep’s reaction was delayed, her body swaying a bit as she grabbed the strap of her tank top that had slipped down her arm and pushed it back up over her shoulder. Her hand slapped down to her lap afterward, head bobbing forward like she’d fall asleep at any second.
My jaw was so tight I swore I felt a tooth crack from the pressure, and I glared at Kyle, then at her, then back at him.
I knew my brother. I knew that, even though he pissed me off, he wouldn’t do anything with Julep — or any girl — in a state like this. But the fact that he had her in his room at all pissed me off. He should have taken her home and put her straight to bed. He should have found me, because he knew even when I tried to hide it that there was something between us.
The one thing he shouldn’t have done was take her up here to his room.
My hands tightened into fists, neck straining as I glared at him. “Get out.”
“It’s my room.”
“I don’t give shit.”
“I’m looking out for her just like you would.”
“SHE’S NOT YOURS TO LOOK OUT FOR!”
The possession that ripped through me in that moment surprised me even more than it did Kyle, who let his head snap back like he’d caught me red-handed in a crime he’d suspected me guilty of for years.
He scoffed, or laughed, maybe both as he shook his head. Then, a sneer found his stupid face. It was like he went from pissed off to amused in the span of two seconds.
“Hey, don’t be jealous, Cap,” he said, standing and crossing the room. He threw his arm around me.
Julep only blinked, all coherence gone, and I kept my eyes on her as Kyle leaned in close where only I could hear him.
“I told you I’d have her in my bed by the end of the season,” he said.
It was a joke. I knew it was a joke, just something he said to rile me up and push my buttons. The problem was that it worked.
And he pushed the wrong fucking button.
I blacked out.
There was no other explanation.
Rage hit me so hard it took my vision and hearing and all good sense with it.
Control didn’t exist in that moment, no reassuring, calm voice to tell me how to rationally handle the situation. All I knew was that Julep wasn’t okay, that she hadn’t been for some time now, and that she’d gotten too drunk, too messed up tonight. This wasn’t just someone not knowing their limit and getting fucked up. This was someone who knew their limit and sped past it, anyway.
It was a desperate cry for help — one that Kyle was taking advantage of.
I felt my body moving, my fist connecting, my knuckles aching in pain, but I saw nothing but red.
Distantly, I heard Julep scream.
When I came to, I had Kyle pinned on the ground. His nose was bloody, eyes already bruising, and my fist was suspended by my face and ready to land another blow.
But I restrained, willing my breathing to calm as I kept that hand frozen in place.
“Jesus, Holden! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kyle kicked me off him, scrambling to his feet and running to the mirror. He cursed when he saw himself. “I think you broke my fucking nose.”
“I’ll break more if you say anything like that about her ever again.”
He spit out blood, shaking his head as his eyes found mine. “If you think Coach won’t hear about this, then you don’t know me.”
“If you go running to Coach with problems you have with me, then you’ll prove I know exactly who you are.”
That quieted him, and he stormed toward me like he was ready to duke it out. I braced, but he stopped right in front of me, looking me up and down like I disgusted him.
“She’s not worth it,” he spat, shaking his head. “And neither are you, you washed up sonofabitch. We were better off with Russo.”
With that last dig, he brushed past me, knocking my chest hard with his shoulder. I rolled my eyes once he was gone, the anger I’d held turning into annoyance. I didn’t give a fuck what he said about me. That was just who he was. And by Saturday, he’d be acting like nothing happened at all.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was Julep.
“Oh, God, Holden,” she said, covering her mouth, her eyes shining. “I’m so sorry.”
Then, before she could cry, she vomited.
