Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Ripped - 6. Chapter 6
"So, where were you?" Jose finally asked.
Declan shrugged. "Just walking a bit."
"What did Chris mean by you were 'taking care of some trash'?" Alex pressed.
"He's just being a smartass," Declan said vaguely.
"Fine, whatever." Alex shoved his hands in his pockets, obviously not interested enough to press for a more thorough answer.
They walked back to the campus, talking mostly about the last week's practices. Of course, Alex and Jose avoided mentioning the weight room fiasco.
"Chris was on fire this week," Jose commented. "I think we have a good shot at the playoffs this year."
"Especially if Dec here tackles our opponents like he was doing to our offense today," Alex laughed.
"Oh, screw you," Declan grumbled. "You offensive guys need to learn to take some hard hits."
Alex rubbed at his side. "Yeah, right. Thanks so much for the 'unnecessary roughness'."
"We'd do fine if Lachlan was quarterback too," Declan threw out. Lachlan was good, but Chris had been their quarterback for the last two years, leading them to the playoffs each time.
Jose gave Declan an odd look, like he couldn't believe what he'd just suggested. "Why would Coach put in Lachlan when Chris gets it done?"
"Maybe Chris won't always be there," Declan answered ambiguously. "He could get hurt... or something."
Both his teammates eyed him oddly, obviously wondering just what the hell he was alluding to. Declan wasn't sure what he wanted to happen. He knew Bailey had every right to turn Chris and Eric in, but would he? It didn't sound like he was going to, in which case, the team would continue under Chris Vasser's leadership.
But did they really need someone like Chris leading them? If they knew what Chris was truly capable of, would the team still stand behind the guy, just to win a few games?
Declan couldn't decide what he wanted Bailey to do, and he worried what might happen to both the team and Bailey himself if Chris were kicked off the team, maybe even expelled.
By the time they got to the student union, most of the team was already hanging out, crowding around the snacks and sandwiches that had been picked up. Declan noticed quite a few non-football guys hanging out as well. He caught sight of Ian, with his casted arm in a sling, talking with Pat and Nick.
Chris appeared on the steps, descending from the second level. Eric, of course, was following in his wake. A few of the other guys came down with him, and Declan wondered just what they'd been doing up there.
Chris headed over to start the movie, dimming the lights. He wore a crooked smile the whole time, which made Declan a little curious as to what exactly he'd been up to.
As everyone settled into a seat around the big screen, Declan looked over when someone nudged him. Eddie, one of their running backs who'd been upstairs with Chris, leaned in as the opening sequence started up.
"Bet you're happy."
Declan frowned at him. "Why?"
"Knowing that McIntyre kid cheated to keep up with you yesterday," Eddie said as he stared at the screen.
Declan jerked around. "What? Who told you that?"
Eddie grinned. "Bailey said it himself, to Chris. Don't think he realized Eric was recording it though..."
Declan closed his eyes as he tried to process what Chris had done. Obviously, he'd shown the video to a few of the guys, probably what he'd really been doing upstairs. Now all Chris had to do was wait for the gossip to spread, to cast a blight on Bailey and his reputation.
He could only imagine what would happen when Justin heard about it. The guy would probably explode.
"I don't know about that. I can't see how he could have—" Declan said evasively.
"Well, he must have, right? To beat you. It explains a lot." Eddie popped a chip in his mouth.
Declan bit the inside of his lip. A part of him knew he should deny it, to admit that Bailey had beat him fair and square, but the little devil on his shoulder kept whispering in his ear to just keep quiet, let everyone think what they want.
If he didn't say the rumor was true, then he wasn't lying. Right?
****
By the time Monday came, Declan was even more confused than ever. He couldn't figure out what it was about Bailey McIntyre that was driving him crazy. He should just let Chris's rumor play out, restore his reputation, and ignore the little niggling voice in the back of his head telling him to do otherwise.
And, for some reason, he couldn't get Bailey out of his mind. Not just the haunted, defeated stare as he'd looked up at Declan from the ground Friday night, but the moment their eyes met that morning on the track and his fierce determination as he'd walked away from Declan's aid.
Thoughts of Bailey consumed him, and not like they had before, when he'd wanted to deck the guy. He'd seen a whole new side of Bailey Friday night and it intrigued him. He hadn't expected the slight teen to silently suffer Chris's abuse—and then walk away like he didn't care.
Declan had thought Bailey would look to him like a hero, coming to save the day, but he hadn't. He'd rebuffed Declan—not that Declan had given him any reason to trust him anyway—and shrugged off the bullying like it was nothing new.
And it apparently it wasn't. Bailey had told him as much. And didn't that just fire up Declan's protective streak like there was no tomorrow. Imagining guys even bigger than Chris tormenting Bailey had him clenching his fists. And then he'd imagine Bailey decked out in football gear, chasing down a receiver...
Cornerback? Really?
His own guilt swamped him—at having wanting to first destroy Bailey, and now practically crushing on him. He couldn't get his brain to decide what he wanted anymore.
And it left him frustrated, horny, and angry on a Monday morning when he should be focusing on classes.
The rumor Chris had started had been whispered through most of the student body by this morning. Justin, Cameron, and the rest of the gymnastics team, of course, out-right rebuffed the claim, and there were plenty who agreed with them. However, there were just as many willing to accept the rumor as at least a partial truth.
Because, yeah, how could little Bailey McIntyre beat defensive lineman Declan Foster if he didn't cheat somehow?
Declan continued to be evasive, saying he had no idea what Bailey had been doing as he'd been focused on his own pushups. Even when Logan, Evan and Micah demanded to know what was going on, he pretended to not know what they were talking about.
That's right, just ignore it all, and it'll go away. Good thinking, Dec, he thought to himself.
"Come on, Dec," Evan cajoled, "why is half the school saying Bailey cheated in that stupid pushup contest?"
"I don't know. Chris is the one who said Bailey told him that." And you know he was forced to, just say so...
"And why the fuck would Bailey admit that to Chris of all people?" Logan demanded, his crossed arms portraying exactly what he thought of the rumor.
"God, I don't know!" Declan continued to deny anything—because sticking up for Bailey meant betraying his own team, and he couldn't bring himself to do that, even with the damn voice in his head telling him he should.
"I think Chris is just making shit up," Micah decided as he flopped back on Evan's bed.
Evan nodded. "Yeah, it sounds like something Chris would do."
Declan had buried his nose in his textbook, studiously ignoring them. Evade. Evade their questions.
While Declan noticed that a lot of his teammates didn't overtly validate the rumor, they didn't outright deny it either. Ben, especially, refused to say anything, and Declan knew he was just trying to keep peace with Chris to keep the team cohesive. Declan suspected several of his teammates didn't believe Chris's claim, even though a few guys said they'd seen the video. Declan noticed that Chris had only shown the video to a select handful who were most likely to believe it, some of the freshmen, a couple upperclassmen who tended to idolize Chris and his football abilities, but didn't really know that much about the guy otherwise.
Declan was careful to keep to himself as much as he could on Monday. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he was confronted with Justin's hostility or even Bailey's passive pessimism. Fortunately, he didn't have Trig today, so he wouldn't have to face Bailey in class.
Lunch, of course, was another matter. He'd barely sat down with Nick, Jaime, Lachlan, and Alex before he noticed Justin, Cameron and Owen stalking his way.
"Oh, hell, look out," Jaime muttered under his breath.
"What the hell is this stupid rumor about Bailey cheating?" Justin demanded.
"I never said that," Declan admitted freely. "So don't look at me."
Justin poked a finger in his chest. "You know he didn't, but you're not man enough to admit it. You'd let everyone believe that stupid shit just to save your precious reputation."
Declan shot out of his seat, his face flushing red at the insult—no matter how true it might be. "I don't know what the hell happened. I didn't watch him while I was doing pushups, so what the hell do I know?"
Justin glared at him, just shaking his head. "Whatever. We know the truth."
"I heard Bailey told Chris himself," someone said from one of the other tables. A chorus of 'yeah's echoed around them. "'Course I don't really know Bailey, so maybe..."
"He wouldn't do that," Owen defended.
Declan flinched inwardly, knowing that Bailey had done exactly that just to get Chris to leave him alone. And part of the problem was that a lot of people didn't really know Bailey well enough to decide if he'd cheat or not.
"Hey, Chris!" someone else yelled, drawing their attention to the quarterback coming out of the food line. "Did McIntyre really tell you he somehow cheated?"
Chris ducked his chin slightly, appearing aggrieved at having to acknowledge the question. Justin, of course, was glaring at him. "Yes, he did—"
"Liar!" Cameron spat out.
Chris gaped, feigning shock at the outburst. "I'm only telling you what he said. He felt guilty or something... He's a good kid, and I think it was bothering him..."
Declan had to admire Chris's smooth talking. He intentionally wasn't ridiculing Bailey or even Justin and his team because he knew that would throw suspicion on his claims.
"Just ask him, if you don't believe me," Chris added casually, shocking Justin, Cameron and Owen with his confidence.
"You know we will," Justin challenged.
"Good. Let me know what he says," Chris said with a grin as he flopped in a chair next to Declan, popping a French fry in his mouth.
Justin narrowed his eyes, obviously sensing something was wrong for Chris to be so self-assured that Bailey would admit to a wrong-doing that he hadn't done.
"What's going on?" Mr. Bassinger suddenly interrupted, the physics teacher's hands were on his hips, obviously expecting some sort of problem.
Chris held his hands up to the teacher on cafeteria monitor duty. "Nothing, sir."
Mr. Bassinger eyed Justin's aggressive stance along with Owen and Cameron flanking him, as well as Declan standing there facing off with them.
"Well, Mr. Greene, what's going on?"
Justin's nostrils flared as he fought to keep his cool. "Nothing, sir. Just asking Declan a few questions is all."
Bassinger's gaze shot back to Declan, who remained still and silent. "And did you get your answers? Or would you all like to join me in the Dean's office to talk it out some more?"
Declan noticed Justin's fists clench before he shook his head. "No, sir, we're good. Thank you."
Justin turned and stalked away amid a flurry of whispers as Mr. Bassinger's eyes continued to flick back and forth between the retreating trio and Declan's table.
Declan slowly sat back down, nodding at the monitor who still had his hands on his hips obviously trying to decide if he should press the matter. As the cafeteria settled back into its normal chatter, Mr. Bassinger slowly drifted away.
Declan's shoulders slumped as he tried to avoid the curious gazes half the student body was shooting their way.
"Too bad Bailey wasn't here," Jaime muttered, "He could have just settled everything at once."
"Hmm, I wonder where he is?" Lachlan pondered.
"Probably hiding out," Chris put in.
Nick lifted a brow at the team captain. "Did he really tell you he somehow cheated?"
Chris rolled his eyes, obviously having had to answer that question many times. "Yes, I swear." He dug around in his pocket for a moment. "Here. Look." He pulled up the video. "I was practicing my awesome hacky sack skills..." he started, and the others rolled their eyes at him, knowing he was hardly more than a novice, "... and Eric was videoing for me, so I could figure out what I'm doing wrong, when Bailey came by. I guess he was on his way home..."
Chris let Lachlan, Alex, Jaime, and Nick see the video. Declan pretended to pay attention, but all he could think about was Chris pinning Bailey against the dumpster and offering the chance for Declan to take his shot. Those dark thoughts lingered for a moment before he abruptly sat up. Chris still had the video on his phone. Which meant if someone told the Dean about it, they could see the evidence on Chris's phone...
After the video finished, Nick scrunched his nose up. "I don't know... Bailey looks... scared or something..."
"Of course he does, he was admitting he's a cheater," Chris scoffed. "Why wouldn't he look nervous?"
"I don't know, maybe because he came across you and Eric on the way home. You two probably scared the shit out of the little guy," Jaime laughed.
Declan noticed Chris tensed at Jaime's teasing. Jaime and Nick didn't realize just how spot-on they'd been. Declan could tell Chris was regretting showing the video to them.
"You know, it's not a big deal," Chris said. "I didn't want to embarrass McIntyre by telling anyone, but..." He shrugged. "...Eric and I were just so surprised he'd told us, and we might have shown a few guys the video last night, and they told others about it. We didn't mean it to be a big deal. See, look, I'll even delete it. Gone. Done."
Declan's brows shot up at the fact that Chris was erasing his 'evidence'. Although, with the way Nick and Jaime had questioned it, maybe Chris figured getting rid of it was better than keeping it at this point. Then no one could look at it too hard later and possibly realize just how fake it really was—especially if Bailey came forth and admitted to being bullied into saying it.
Declan had a moment of regretting that he'd deleted the one Eric had sent him, just in case Bailey needed evidence later.
Nick nodded at Chris's gesture. "Good. I don't think it'd be nice for you to show that around, you know."
Chris nodded, his brows furrowed. "You're right. I shouldn't have let anyone see it. I didn't think it would spread like it did."
Liar, Declan thought. That is exactly what you wanted to happen.
Of course, that little voice just couldn't keep its mouth shut either.
You're not any better, Declan, letting your team captain continue to bully McIntyre with your silence.
****
Declan felt antsy throughout the rest of the afternoon. It felt like something horrible was looming on the horizon. Of course, it could just be his own brick-load of guilt weighing him down.
Heading out to the practice field, Declan was sure the Coach was going to call Chris and Eric out on what had happened over the weekend. But he never did.
Unfortunately, Chris's stunt with Bailey created a little divisiveness amongst the team that Declan was sure Chris hadn't anticipated. Chris's supporters were cackling and making rude jokes about Bailey, yet many of the team still whispered doubt—they'd been there, how could Bailey have cheated?
Still, most kept their doubts to themselves, like Ben, not willing to cause fractures in the team's cohesion. Chris, wisely, kept his own mouth shut, apparently knowing his recklessness with the video might eventually backfire on him. Of course, Chris and Eric had deleted the copies of the videos they'd done from their phones, so there wasn't any 'evidence' left. Declan guessed that they figured if Bailey did say anything, it would be their word against his.
Which is what Bailey had basically said as well—implying that he knew which way that would work out. Declan wondered again just what had happened in Bailey's past to make him think no one would listen.
Questions about Bailey, and the way the guy had haunted Declan's thoughts for the entire weekend, had Declan rinsing quickly after practice and hurrying out of the locker room before any of his teammates. He made his way to the Auxiliary gyms, easily finding the entrance to Aux 2 where the gymnastics team practiced. He sighed in relief when he realized they were still in there, glad he hadn't missed trying to catch up with Bailey.
He peeked through the small windows on the door, trying to pick out the various team members. Each one was on a different piece of equipment, the coach walking through yelling things Declan didn't understand. His eyes darted around, seeking out Bailey's black hair and tiny form.
He'd skimmed over the rings twice, scanning over the other bodies flipping and spinning around the various apparatus, before he realized Bailey was the one on the rings.
Declan watched the figure flip several times before landing—and falling—on the mat under the rings. The coach was standing there with crossed arms, and Declan felt a spear of sympathy. He knew what that frown from a coach meant, and he was sure Bailey was in for a 'talkin' to', as Nick would put it.
It wasn't until Justin was practically at the door, ready to shove it open that Declan realized Coach Richards had dismissed the rest of the team. He'd been so focused on Bailey, he hadn't noticed the others clearing off the equipment, shoving something in little bags, slipping on flip-flops and heading for the door.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Justin confronted Declan as soon as he'd come through the doors.
The other four guys glared at him as well, and Declan figured their ire was well-founded considering their earlier confrontation at lunch. Declan certainly wasn't winning any friends among this group of guys anyway.
"I-I just needed..." Declan's gaze flitted back to the small window where the coach was blocking his view of Bailey.
"Needed what? Haven't you all done enough?"
"I haven't done anything!" Declan cried out defensively.
And that's pretty much the whole problem, isn't it, Dec? You've just sat back and kept your mouth shut, when you should be spilling your guts to your own Coach or even the Dean. You're letting your teammates bully a classmate. Heritage has made you better than that. Damn noble voice.
"Get out of here," Cameron tossed back.
"Look," Declan started calmly, "I just want to talk to Bailey for a minute."
"He doesn't need another football player harassing him," Justin said. "So leave him alone."
"What?" Declan nearly yelped in surprise. Bailey had told them? Then why the hell weren't they beating down Coach Reed's door demanding justice?
"While Bailey might refuse to tell us anything, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Chris must have done something," Justin continued. "And I can't force Bailey to turn in the bastard. But I'll be damned if we're going to stand by and let you do it too."
Declan was already shaking his head, the heat of shame creeping up his neck. "I swear I'm not going to do that. I may have said some stupid things, but you know I'm not like that, right?"
Justin pursed his lips, thinking, as he exchanged glances with Luke, Mateo, Cameron, and Owen. Apparently, they came to some silent conclusion because Justin finally nodded.
"Fine. But you can bet we'll be checking in on him to make sure none of you idiots do anything else."
Declan nodded. "I swear, I just want to find out what's going on too."
Justin appeared to be pondering Declan's sincerity. He finally glanced at his teammates, waving his hand down the hall. "You guys go ahead. I'll be there in a minute."
A spike of anxiety shot through Declan that Justin might be looking to start something with him—just without witnesses. Cameron's smirk as he walked off with the others didn't help.
Declan immediately went on the defensive when Justin turned back toward him. "I swear, I'm just looking to apologize, make sure he's okay, that's all."
But Justin barely glanced at him. Instead, his eyes swept past him to the gym doors, focusing through the small windows. Declan chanced a look, noticing Bailey and the coach heading toward the rings.
Justin harrumphed before smiling slightly. "Let me know if you find out what he's thinking or feeling. Bailey's always kept to himself. I doubt you're going to get anywhere."
Declan didn't know what to say to that. Justin almost sounded wistful as they both turned to stare through the window. He remembered hearing Justin inviting Bailey to stay over in the dorms once, and Declan wondered again why Bailey wasn't housed in the dorms like the rest of the students.
"Why doesn't he stay on campus?" Declan blurted out as they both watched Coach Richards help Bailey up to the rings.
"He was going to, but then—" Justin cut himself off, pressing his lips together. "Well, it's not my place to say why, but he feels his mom needs him right now."
The memory of how Bailey's mom had snapped at him Friday night had Declan frowning, and Declan remembered thinking that his dad must travel a lot. "Is it because his dad is gone?"
Justin jerked, wide eyes staring back at him in surprise. Justin barely nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"Just guessed." Declan shrugged as he turned back to the window. "What is he...." his voice trailed off as he stared. Justin was grinning broadly next to him.
It took Declan several seconds to comprehend just what he was seeing.
"Holy fucking shit..." Declan gasped as he took in the figure practically suspended between the rings in a horizontal T position—with just his arms holding him up.
"The Maltese," Justin said almost reverently. "Isn't it awesome?"
Awesome? It was fucking amazing. How the hell did he do that? Could all of the gym guys do that?
"You all can do that?" Declan whispered in wonder.
Justin chuckled. "No, only Bailey. He's got several skills the rest of us don't. Luke is close to getting it. The Maltese is one of the hardest ring skills to master; takes a lot of strength and endurance. Plus, I think it helps that Bailey weighs next to nothing and is smaller. The whole leverage thing and all."
Declan didn't even know what to think as Bailey skillfully levered himself to a handstand and then another T—just upside down. Declan nearly banged his head on the window trying to imprint every move Bailey made. When Bailey dropped into another T position that Declan recognized as an iron cross before flipping and twisting to land perfectly, Declan finally sucked in a breath he didn't know he'd been withholding.
When Justin laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, Declan jumped. He'd been so lost in watching the masterful movements Bailey had been executing that he'd forgotten Justin was still there.
"Don't forget what I said, Declan. Be nice, or I will hear about it, and you won't like the consequences."
Declan just nodded through the idle threat as he listened to Justin's retreating footsteps. He turned back to the window in time to see Coach Richards speaking briefly to Bailey before nodding and turning to the door. Declan quickly backed up, so as to not get hit as the coach exited. A brief glance through the window, and he realized Bailey wasn't leaving yet. He had wandered over to the huge blue floor outlined in white lines.
Coach Richards stopped abruptly at seeing Declan hovering outside the gym doors. "Did you need to see me, Mr. Foster?"
"Oh, uh, no, sir," Declan stammered out, realizing that Richards might have thought he needed to talk about history class. "I was just waiting to talk to Bailey."
"I see," Mr. Richards said, cocking his head to the side, his eyes narrowing, assessing. Declan tried not to cringe under the scrutiny, even though he was sure he hadn't done anything wrong. "Is there anything I need to be concerned about?"
Declan's gaze flicked up, startled that the coach would ask that. Did he know something? Or was he just wondering about the weight room debacle? He couldn't know anything else, could he? Obviously, Bailey hadn't said anything, so it couldn't be about Friday night...
"Uh, no, sir. I don't think so. I just wanted to apologize personally for what happened in the weight room last week, that's all."
"Huh." Mr. Richards folded his arms across his chest, still considering. "I thought Chris and Justin were pretty much at fault there, goading each other on from what we determined."
"Yes, sir. But I... I just felt bad that he and I got pitted against each other like that." Declan hoped that was a good enough explanation.
Richards sighed, dropping his arms. "He's just stretching and cooling down a bit, but you can go on in."
"Thank you, sir." Declan watched his history teacher head down the hallway before turning and quietly pulling the door open.
He stopped just inside, hidden slightly in the shadows of the alcove created by the entrance. Bailey had dropped the things he'd had on his hands, some type of leathery contraption, on the floor nearby. His body was splotched in white chalk as he pressed from a seated straddled position into a handstand.
For the first time, Declan really saw Bailey. Not the guy that Bailey tried to hide away under baggy shirts and pants. But the guy that Declan knew now, without a doubt, could easily beat him in a pushup contest.
The corded muscles of Bailey shoulders strained under the effort to lift him to vertical with only his arms and absurdly crazy balance to get him there. Bailey's thin body wasn't just skinny as Declan had previously thought, it was sinewy and wiry with insane muscles that Declan was sure couldn't be possible on someone Bailey's size.
"Holy shit..." he whispered out, still unable to reconcile the slim, powerful body he was watching with the tiny guy in the baggy sweats who'd been sitting on the floor of the weight room, or the guy Chris had pinned to the ground.
Bailey suddenly dropped from his handstand, rolling out and scrambling to his feet. Declan's face flushed guiltily at having interrupted, but he stepped forward now that Bailey had noticed him.
Declan cringed as Bailey pinned him with those stormy gray eyes—darker now in animosity. Bailey was definitely ready for a fight. And the way he'd straightened his shoulders and put his hands on his hips screamed defensiveness.
"What do you want, Declan?"
Well, now, that was the real question, now wasn't it?
- 67
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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