Keep Me Never – Boys of Avix Read Online Meagan Brandy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors: Meagan Brandy Advertisement

Advertisement

Or that in two weeks’ time, when we pack up for our last winter break here at Avix University, the school we planned to attend together since we were fifteen years old, I won’t be coming back.

The thought slices something open in me, a cold knot locking up my throat. It’s coming, the break. The goodbye. The final fall.

I can’t⁠—

I shift my weight, grip the strap of my back tighter, and force out, “Can you…can you take this?” The words taste like defeat, but the bag’s too heavy. Not in pounds but in pressure and everything that it holds. It slips from my shoulder and hits the ground between us.

I can’t tell them that, on Coach’s orders, I have to go to the ER. That I have to finally figure out what the hell has been going on with me.

Mason’s brows pull together instantly, and Brady’s already blindly reaching for it, his worried gaze not breaking from my own.

“Yeah, man, we got it,” Brady says quietly.

“We got you,” Mason adds, softer than I expected.

Their understanding kills me because I know, if given the chance, they would hold me up, take all the weight, and share it between them if it were possible.

It isn’t.

I spin, unable to meet their stares anymore, and start walking. My feet barely lift, the numbness spreading, this time not from whatever the hell happened on the field those few weeks ago, but not fast enough. I want it to fucking swallow me.

“Where are you going, brother?” Mase calls after me.

When I don’t answer, he tries again: “Don’t forget, we’ve got the FaceTime call planned for later. Ari made us all promise, remember?”

My head tips, maybe a nod, maybe not. I can’t tell. My jaw is locked, my throat raw like someone’s dragging nails up the inside of it. I just have to get out of here, away from…everything.

“She wants you there, too,” he adds. And then quieter, slower, he says, “So does Paige.”

That one lands, lodging itself somewhere behind my ribs, but I keep walking. I keep walking because I can’t stop.

If I stop now, I’ll fall, so I keep going.

My lungs burn as if I’m running, but I can’t say for sure if I am. I could be moving at a snail’s pace, and I wouldn’t notice the difference.

I have to get away, to escape. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s no more escaping the reality. No more wishing and hiding, no more wasted hope.

I’ve reached the end of the road, and just like I expected, there’s no soft landing waiting for me.

I guess it’s true what they say, as much as I was hoping I got it wrong.

Karma does come around and my future is the price.

And it’s confirmed several hours later when the doctor comes back into the room looking grim.

It’s late—late enough that the stars are already out, mocking me from above, like the heights I’ll never reach no matter how much I try, no matter how hard I work. I’ll always be below, under, less than.

Darkness surrounds me in every sense of the word.

I don’t even remember walking here. One minute, I was stumbling away from the hospital, and the next, I’m back on campus, climbing the old metal steps at the practice field, finding myself halfway up the home-side bleachers.

I look down when my feet start to wobble, realizing I’m standing on a chair, and I hop to the next one, nearly fumbling forward and rolling onto my ass, but I catch myself before that can happen, glaring down at my hand, the tape half torn and my fingers red and swollen.

Probably should have used my other hand, but it’s occupied.

What’s it matter, anyway?

I don’t need them for anything. Not anymore.

Shrugging my shoulder, I take a drink.

The golden liquor burns as it goes down my throat, and I laugh, this sad, stupid sound that slips out when I remember how many hours I spent on this field the last four years.

Wasted.

Just like every other minute I have spent on this campus.

All for fucking nothing.

I take another drink.

Across the field, the scoreboard mocks me, dead and black, just like every path forward I thought I had. A shaky breath escapes, and I tip my head back, eyes burning.

It’s not fair, not after how hard I fought, not after everything I gave.

I know I made some mistakes over the years, but I own those. I’ve apologized. I’ve been a better friend. A better brother and uncle.

I learned how to love and I’ve let go of my selfishness.

I’ve grown. I have, I swear it.

So then why?

My shoulders start to shake, and I can’t stop it. I stand suddenly, wobbly on my feet as I make my way down the bleachers. I hop the railing near the bottom and stumble, catching myself before I hit the track.


Advertisement

Advertisement