Ripped - 4. Chapter 4

Fuck Justin. And fuck Bailey McIntyre. Declan slammed his way into his room, causing his roommate to nearly fall out of his bed.

"Christ, Dec! What the hell?!" Evan shouted, before flopping back in the bed.

"You needed to get up anyway," Declan growled as he searched his drawers for clean boxer briefs and a set of clothes for the day. He set them on the dresser before stomping to the joint bathroom their room shared with next door. Fortunately, neither Logan or Micah were in there yet.

"Screw you," Evan called behind him, and he heard the soft thump of one of Evan's many pillows hit the door.

That at least had Declan chuckling as he shucked his running shorts and shirt before testing the waters. Once it was warm enough, he pulled the shower curtain. This was usually one of his chances to jack off, but even as he soaped up, he couldn't find a mental image to focus on. Ryan Reynolds, Channing Tatum... often easy go-to choices, but for some reason each time he brought forth their images, they morphed into a younger man...

... with black hair flopping over his silvery eyes...

"Come on, Dec! Leave us some hot water!" Micah pounded on the door from their side of the suite, causing Declan to jump.

Cursing that he'd let himself get lost in images of someone he thought he hated. He whipped the soap over the rest of his body, frustrated and confused that his mind had drifted to thinking of Bailey like that. Rinsing quickly before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he did a quick knock on his suitemate's door.

"Done. All yours."

Micah stepped in, already wrapped in his towel. "Just because you have all those big ass muscles doesn't mean you have to take twice as long to wash them," he quipped.

"Funny, man. Funny," Declan grumbled as he stepped up to the sink to brush his teeth, before shaving.

Micah jumped in the shower. "Oh, wash out the sink after shaving this time."

"I always do!" Declan snapped back at being chastised.

"Not the last time."

"Could have been yours, you know."

"I don't fucking shave yet, dickwad!" Micah yelled back.

Logan opened the suite door, lumbering to the toilet and closing the door, but not locking it. "Knock it off, guys. It's too early for this shit."

"That's what I said!" Evan called from their room.

"Could have been Logan," Declan suggested to Micah.

"Yeah, maybe..." Micah conceded.

After Logan flushed, he shoved Declan to the side to wash his hands. The tall lean, mocha skinned basketball player just ignored both of them. He filled up his water cup, and Declan frowned at him.

When Logan turned and tossed the water over the shower rod, causing Micah to scream like a little girl, he just grinned and went back to his room. Of course, Declan burst into laughter.

"Declan!" Micah screamed. "You son-of-a—"

"Hey! It wasn't me!"

Evan had stepped in, heading to the toilet. "Yeah, it was. I saw him."

Declan's jaw dropped. "What? You traitor!"

Evan just smirked before closing the stall door. "Don't fucking make so much noise in the morning."

Declan couldn't help but smile. The morning antics had washed away his bad mood. Maybe he was taking things too seriously. It's not like anybody cared about what happened yesterday, except Chris.

He still had his friends, his buddies. Although he had been a bit of an asshole to Justin this morning on the track when he implied gymnastics was just dancing around. Really, he knew it had to be more than that, but he'd never paid any attention to men's gymnastics—and was only vaguely aware of girl's gymnastics. Weren't they usually like cheerleaders or something?

"Hurry up, I'm heading down to breakfast," he called back through the bathroom.

"Give us five, and we'll go with you."

Apparently, Evan and Logan were planning on showering later.

He slipped on his boxer briefs under his towel before taking it off and hanging it up. Throwing on some Axe deodorant, he slipped on a blue polo shirt and a pair of khaki pants. Fortunately, the school didn't have one specific uniform everyone had to wear to classes, but they were required to wear a collared shirt (most chose a short-sleeved polo) and either slacks or knee-length shorts in khaki, navy or black. Basically, after about two in the afternoon when classes were over, everyone changed into whatever they wanted, unless they had practice. And the weekends they were free to wear what they wanted as well.

He sat on his bed and packed his backpack while he waited. Evan slipped on khakis and a white shirt, sliding a belt in the loops.

"So what's with the ridiculously early morning routine today?" Evan griped as he slipped on his shoes.

"Just couldn't sleep well. Got in a run, now we can get breakfast early and study for Richards's history test before classes start."

"Fine, fine." Evan slung his backpack over his shoulder and led the way out the door. Logan and Micah were just coming out of their room. Most of the rest of the hall was rather quiet as classes didn't start for another hour and a half. It was only a few minutes after seven am.

****

They wandered in to the dining hall, quickly making their breakfast selections. Evan had already found a table so Declan made his way over. As he put his tray down, his eyes flitted up to see Justin glaring at him from a few tables over. A couple of the lacrosse guys, Pat and Jason, were sitting with him as was that Bailey kid.

When Pat frowned at him too, Declan knew he'd gone too far in what he'd said to Justin earlier this morning because it was obvious Justin had already relayed what had happened. Bailey had ducked his head and was studiously ignoring him, but then Jason twisted in his seat and also scowled at him.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" Logan asked around a mouthful of eggs.

Declan sighed heavily as he bent his head to ignore the icy glares from the other table. "Nothing. I just said some stuff I shouldn't have."

"Like what?" Micah asked.

"Fuck." Declan raked his hand over his head in irritation. "I might have said something like Justin and his crew should have let us have the weight room yesterday because, well, you know, we needed it more. You know, to prepare for the game—"

Logan halted with his fork halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean? You don't have a game for two weeks."

"You didn't," Evan sucked in a breath. "Why the hell would you say something like that? Your coach would have you doing extra pushups or something."

Declan sneered at his roommate. "I think I've already done enough of those."

"Oh, what? Because Bailey managed to match you one-for-one, you're all bent out of shape now?" Logan quipped.

"Fuck, you heard too?" Declan groaned, his anger rising once again.

"Dec, it was all over the dorm last night while you were hiding out in our room—"

"I'm gonna kick Bailey's ass—" Declan started, without thinking.

"Hey!" Evan snapped, frowning deeply at Declan. "No, you're not. This isn't on him. Or you, for that matter. This was Chris's fault, and he's the one having to deal with the fallout."

"Yeah, like no one's going to be giving me shit about being beaten in a damn pushup contest by a flyboy," Declan grunted.

"So the fuck what? Everyone knows the coach interrupted you guys. Nobody won—"

"He should never have been able to last that long! He's a damn gymnast. I play fucking football. I crush guys twice his size every day."

"Never took you to be like Chris." Logan shook his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means... you think just because you play football that you're better than the rest of us," Logan explained.

"No, man... It's not like that—" Declan tried to backpedal but one look at his roommate and other suitemate had him deflating. "That's not it at all. It's just... he made a fool of me... of the team."

"No, you made a fool of yourself when you said that shit to Justin. So what if Bailey can do as many pushups as you? That's pretty awesome, actually."

"It's not fucking 'awesome'," Declan growled. "I should have wiped the mat with him."

"And why is that?" Micah cocked his brow.

"Because he's just a gymnast!"

"Okay, that's it," Logan declared, standing and picking up his tray. "Let me know when you get your head out of your ass."

Declan's jaw dropped as he watched his friend stalk away.

Micah rose too, his brows furrowed. "I don't know what's going on with you right now, but this isn't like you. Yeah, I know you're a bit egotistical... we all have moments like that... but whatever your hang-up is about Bailey or Justin... you need to get over it."

Evan stood up next to Micah.

"You too?" Declan asked increduously.

"Dec, you know I'm your friend, and I always will be, but... yeah, right now, I'm not very proud of you either."

Declan stared in shock as three of his best friends deserted him. Fuck, didn't they understand that he was expected to beat Bailey, and when he didn't win overwhelmingly, it made the entire football team look like wimps? How the hell was he supposed to 'get over' that?

Declan seethed, glancing up to see Justin laughing with Pat and Jason. He caught the back of Bailey slipping out the door.

"Hey, Declan, how are those arms today? Feeling a little weak?" someone teased as they walked by, not waiting for a response.

Perfect, just fucking perfect.

****

At least he knew he'd have something to celebrate in Trigonometry. They should be getting their tests back today, and he'd always gotten one of the top scores on any test or quiz. Him and Xiang. Sometimes Connor or Ronan rounded out the top three. Declan may hate English, but math had always been his strongest subject.

He strolled into class before the teacher arrived.

"Hey, man, Chris made your whole team look bad when he called those gym guys out like that. And then Chris picked the guy he thought was the weakest only to have him match you..." Connor was saying as he followed Declan in.

Declan forced out a smile. Yeah, the weakest. And look what the fuck he did—crushed me in a strength contest. Thanks so much for pointing that out, asshat.

"... but then you're like the only one on that team who could have done so many," Conner finished, and at least Declan felt a slight measure of satisfaction.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he sat down just as Mr. Prosser stalked in. As usual, he held their tests in his hands, and Declan sat up a little straighter.

Damn but he needed a little bit of an ego boost right now.

"Good news, everyone did well on the test."

Declan chuckled as the guys around him released sighs of relief.

"Your top scores are... Xiang..."

Declan wasn't surprised there. Everyone knew Xiang Huy would be one of the top scores; he was a freakin' genius.

"Of course, as always," a few of the guys joked, and Xiang just grinned.

"Connor..."

"Yeah, man! Good job!" someone said, Declan even leaned over to give his friend a congratulatory nudge before looking up at Mr. Prosser.

"And Bailey."

What the actual fuck?

Declan spun in his seat, shocked to see Bailey sitting in the last row, nearly hidden behind one of the lacrosse players. As he watched Mr. Prosser hand Bailey his test, he vaguely registered the kid next to Bailey applauding him.

He felt someone elbowing him.

"So? Not one of the top dogs this time?" Marcus chuckled. "What happened? Those muscles sapping your brain matter now?"

"Shut up." Declan clenched the edge of his desk, his knuckles white. He heard Mr. Prosser step up the aisle behind him. A paper was dropped on his desk—93% an A-.

He stared at it for several long moments. It was still a good grade. In any other class, he'd be jumping for joy to get an A- and even now he was satisfied with it. It was just the loss of his 'status' that was bothering the hell out of him. And to Bailey McIntyre of all people.

****

Football practice was brutal today. Mostly because Declan was even more determined to show just how indomitable he could be. He'd show his team that it was all a fluke. Declan was invincible, invulnerable.

After one particularly rough tackle, Nick groaned from where Declan had laid him out flat. "Fuckin' A, Dec, let up a bit. You're going to bruise the hell out of the entire offensive line."

Declan held a hand down to his teammate to help him up. "Learn to take a hit, then."

Nick bristled. "I can take a hit. This is something else."

"Foster!" Coach Reed called out across the field, gesturing for him to come over.

"See? Even the coach sees it," Nick said.

"You don't know what he wants." Declan ignored his friend as he trotted over to the head coach. The assistant coaches, Mr. Iverson and Mr. Gerwais, were busy on the field, while Coach Reed was observing everything.

"Yes, Coach?" he asked innocently.

Reed reached out and grabbed the bars of his helmet and dragged him close. "What the hell are you doing out there?"

"Sir?"

"It's like you have some grudge match going with everyone on the offense. I think the only person you haven't actually ripped apart yet is Chris. And that's only because you're forbidden to touch the quarterback in practice."

The coach let go of his helmet with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to... put my all into practice," Declan reasoned. It sounded good anyway.

"Well, save it for game night next week. We don't need every one of the offense limping and bruised. Bye weeks are to give teams a chance to recover a bit."

"Yes, sir." Maybe he had been a little brutal, even if it had been a game. Some of his hits might even have bordered on unnecessary roughness in a game. But damn, it had felt good to let go of some of his frustrations.

He was feeling a lot better by the time practice was over, and he had showered. He was tired and exhausted physically and mentally. It felt good.

"Hey!" Eric shouted out to get everyone's attention. "It's Friday—"

"No kidding!" some clown shouted back, earning a few chuckles.

Eric just continued, engaging would just rile everyone up into a cajoling, joking mess, and he'd never finish what he was going to say. "And we didn't have a game this week...SOOOO," he emphasized over the interruption, "we've booked the student lounge for tonight. A few of us are going over to the Square to pick out a movie, maybe grab some snacks. Movie starts about nine, if ya'll aren't too busy dickin' around to hang for a while."

Several of the guys called out their intentions to show up, mostly because there wasn't much else to do on campus. A couple of the guys were being picked up for a visit home over the weekend.

Nick's heavy hand landed on Declan's shoulder. "So, you walkin' over with us?"

"Huh?"

"That was intelligent."

Declan narrowed his eyes at Nick's insult. "What are you talking about?"

"Duh. Are you walking over to the Square with us to pick up a movie and stuff?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure, why not?" Declan finished packing his dirty clothes in his gym bag and closed up his locker.

"Great. Chris wants to head over now."

Declan wasn't sure he wanted to hang out with Chris right now. Not after how he berated Declan in front of the team yesterday. "Who else is going?"

"Oh, um, Eric, Jaime, Alex, Jose, I think. Maybe Ben."

Declan nodded. He could deal with Chris if those guys were going. He'd try to use them as a buffer. He headed out of the locker room behind Nick, waiting in the hall for the others.

Chris came out next. Declan was glad to see he was in good spirits, especially after being called into the coach's office yesterday and all the harassing that happened last night and probably today. He did have a good practice as far as Declan could tell, so that might have helped his mood quite a bit.

"Those heading to the Square!" Chris called out to get the attention of the guys milling about. "We'll run to our rooms and drop off our bags," Chris laid out a plan, "then we'll meet in front of Ruffner in about fifteen minutes."

After receiving grunts of assent, they all headed off to the dorm building. Ruffner consisted of three floors of dorm rooms, every two rooms made up a 'suite' that was connected by the bathroom. A study room and a laundry room rounded out each floor. The school hadn't added any large recreation areas to the dorm building as they wanted to keep the dorms quiet and peaceful as a place to study and rest.

The student union housed recreation options. The main floor was pretty wide open, with lots of chairs and tables for congregating. There was a huge screen with a projection TV at one end of the room that was often used for movies, watching professional sports games, and sometimes just regular TV if no one argued too much about what was on. There was also a sound system that often had music playing. Upstairs, the money raised in fundraisers had paid for a few pool tables, as well as areas set up as gaming stations or more quiet TV areas. There was a built in shelf with stacks of every kind of game imaginable as well.

Declan hurried to his room on the third floor. Evan was sprawled on his stomach on the carpet, typing away at his laptop. Declan shook his head. He could never type like that, it didn't look comfortable at all.

"Hey," he greeted cautiously.

Evan looked up briefly. "Hey."

"Look, I'm sorry about this morning, okay. I've been saying shit, and ... I don't know what's wrong with me, okay? I just got a little crazy after what happened, then Bailey was on the track this morning..." He paced, grabbing at his hair with both hands in frustration. "...and he's like—like trying to race me or something, showing me up at that too..."

Evan huffed. "Declan—"

"And then, today he's beating me out of my spot in Trig."

"Your what?" Evan quirked an eyebrow. "How do you have a spot in a math class? What, did he throw you out of your seat? Wrestle you to ground for it?"

"Okay, smartass, haha." Declan dropped his hands to his hips as he stared down at his laughing roommate. "No, Mr. Prosser has this thing where he lists the top three grades for each test. It's supposed to be motivating to try to get to the top spot, but also lets others know who they can ask for help—which is why I help tutor sometimes. So I've always been one of the top three. Today, Bailey was, not me."

"And that pissed you off more?"

"At first, I mean really, it's like suddenly this Bailey kid, who I've never even seen before, is smacking me down."

"You know Bailey's been here since the start of the school year, nearly two months, right?" Evan asked.

"No. Well, yes, I guess, but no, I didn't really know. I'm sure I've seen him around, just never really paid much attention—"

"Jesus, Dec, you and your entire team need to get your heads out of your asses. Maybe, oh, I don't know, say hi to someone other than your teammates or roommate. You know Ian broke his arm, right?"

"Ian?" Declan's brows furrowed as he tried to place the guy. "Track?"

Evan huffed. "No. Lacrosse."

"Oh!" Declan suddenly placed the red-head. "He did? Seriously? That sucks."

"Yeah, it does. But I've just been noticing how you seem to stay in your own little football world all the time, Dec. I mean, you hang out with me, and Logan and Micah, but that's just because we share a room and bathroom. Do you really even know anyone else outside of your team after two years here?"

"Of course, I do. I know almost everyone's names at this school and their sport. I just got confused for a moment about Ian, that's all," he quickly justified.

"I'm talking about more than just a name and sport. What kind of pet does Quinton have?"

Quinton had a pet? "Um, isn't it a dog?"

"Not even close. He has sugar gliders. His parents brought them to visit once, remember?"

Declan scrunched up his eyes. "Gliders? Those little squirrel like things? Those were Quinton's?"

"Yes! You fucking held one, Dec!"

"I know, but I—" he dropped off. Damn, he really needed to pay more attention to his classmates, his friends.

"My point is you, your whole team for that matter, are rather ... well, into yourselves or something."

"I'm not—!" he instinctively protested, but then really... wasn't that what the last two days had been about.

"You need to rip off your damn blinders and take a look at others for a change. Maybe then you wouldn't be so bent out of shape about McIntyre upsetting your perfect world."

Evan turned back to his laptop, apparently having said his piece, leaving Declan to let the words sink in. Declan stared at the back of Evan's head for several long moments. Had he really let himself become so caught up in himself and the team lately that he was becoming someone his best friend and roommate didn't like very much? He didn't used to be like that, had he? No, Evan would have said something much sooner, maybe they wouldn't even have become such good friends. So what had changed?

The team. Chris becoming captain of the team. Somehow Chris had slowly managed to instill in them a sense of self-importance. It worked as far as games were concerned, making them believe they were the best, unstoppable. Their near-perfect record only helped to boost that ideology. But somehow, it had become twisted, as Chris touted football as the only sport of any worth. Yeah, Declan had pretty much always believed football to be the toughest sport out there, but he hadn't let it consume him like it was now.

Declan finally nodded both to Evan and to himself. "Yeah, yeah, you're right..."

"I often am," Evan grinned.

"Jerk," Declan muttered without any heat.

"So what are you up to tonight?"

"Oh, I'm heading over to the Square with the guys. We're picking out a movie to watch at the Union." Declan backed up to the door. "You could come, movie's going to be at about nine."

"Hmmm, maybe," Evan hedged, though he was still smiling. He knew Declan was just asking this time because of what he'd said about the football players being so exclusive.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go meet the guys. I'll see you later."

"Bye!" Evan called as Declan closed the door behind him. As he headed down the hall toward the elevators, he made sure to greet, by name, everyone he saw, surprising a few of them that he was even speaking to them.

Damn, had he been that much of an asshole in the past that some of the guys didn't even think they could talk to him?