Chapter Four

I hear the roar of the crowd, and I’m in instant panic mode. There are too many people in the stands. No space to breathe. What the hell was I thinking, telling Zahra I’d be here?

I sit in the driver’s seat for more than twenty minutes while in the parking lot of the football stadium, changing my mind at least a half-dozen times over whether to stay or leave.

I sigh deeply. It doesn’t matter what rages inside me. I can’t escape the way my body vibrates every time I have a passing thought about her. She has my attention on a level that excites and scares the hell out of me at the same time. I need to find out why she affects me like this and why I can’t shake it off.

I cast my eyes skyward, whispering a prayer for strength before opening the door and getting out of the car. Each step feels like my feet are encased in cement, but I finally make it to the front entrance. I can’t even answer a simple question from the lady I purchase the ticket from, nearly freaking out over the sensory overload.

This would have been easier to deal with if Squad had my back, but they’re in the A, probably acting a fool as usual. Get your life, bro. You can do this.

My senses heighten at the sounds of the marching band and the cheerleaders. I move through the people standing around in the breezeway leading up to the concrete seating. The crowd is already on their feet as one of the Oakwood receivers catches a long pass and races to the end zone for a touchdown.

“Taylor Ricks for the touchdown!” the announcer booms. “The Grove is now up 28–7!”

The roar of the crowd has my senses overwhelmed. I clap my hands over my ears to muffle the noise, but that doesn’t work at all. I stand in place for a few minutes, closing my eyes to calm my heartbeat, which has ramped up like I’ve been running for miles.

I breathe in through my nose, then breathe out through my mouth. There’s a group of kids to my left who are jumping around and vibing with the band, and that’s throwing me off all over again. I squeeze my hands tighter over my ears to try to silence things for a few fucking seconds so I can calm down.

I feel my heart rate slowing down and breathe a sigh of relief. Now I can get back to the why of it all tonight—if I can get my feet to move.

I have no idea where to begin looking for Zahra, so I head toward an open section near the bottom of the stands, doing my best to duck around the “Cougar Pride” banner that’s in my way, close to where the cheerleaders are set up on the track encircling the football field.

I keep searching, losing hope that I can find her as I hop down each section of seats to get to the open section I found. I almost give up until I see her sitting near where I’m headed. Zahra’s sitting with the cheerleaders, but I get the feeling that she’s not a cheerleader. The “Team Manager” emblazoned in dark-gray lettering across the back of her crimson zip-up hoodie is a dead giveaway, now that I’ve paid enough attention to notice. Or maybe she’s borrowing someone else’s hoodie, who knows? Okay, I may be overthinking things a bit. I need to settle my nerves before I bring on a panic attack, and I haven’t had one of those in a couple of years.

I stop for a few seconds, completely focused on her, unable to move. She’s so pretty, no wonder I have so much trouble talking to her. I mean, look at her.

The torture I’m putting myself through for someone who hasn’t yet proven whether their connection was a figment of my imagination or not…I’m better than this nonsense. The more I try to free myself from the negative thoughts in my head, the more a pronounced rage makes itself clear and present from somewhere deep within my core.

I don’t know how to explain what’s going on with me, but whatever this is rumbling deep, it’s confusing, and I’m low-key irritated. It’s like something—or someone—is trying to rise from the back of my mind and influence what I’m thinking and how to react. It’s weird, and I don’t like the temporary loss of control.

I’m angry with myself for even putting myself in this position. I was good with the whole loner routine, but then I had to go and get caught up in a pretty girl who has me twisted. I don’t wanna be here, but I wanna be here. This constant back and forth is wearing me out, and I wanna yell just to ease the pressure building inside me.

I look to my right, noticing a few of the kids from school staring at me. I pay too much attention to their hand motions and body language, making it plain that my being in their space is not wanted. I ignore as much of it as I can, choosing to focus on suppressing my fight-or-flight instincts. Lashing out, even if I’m in self-defense mode, would be worse…way worse.

My senses are on tilt now, and it’s only a matter of time before I need to figure out how to get out of here. What throws me off even more is this constant vibrating and rumbling from deep inside my body. It’s growing more and more this time, as though it is preparing for something, like an eruption.

I freak out for a moment; my skin feels hot, and I swear there’s a deep crimson glow surrounding my body, brightest on my hands and arms. Even when I close my eyes to will it away, the moment I open them, it looks like it’s only intensified its brilliance.

I have to get my emotions under control, but all my senses become more sensitive by the minute. I’m close to panicking. I try to force the vibrations to stop, convince myself that no one around me means any harm. I take deeper breaths, relying on what my nana taught me to calm down and focus. The last thing I need is to let my anxiety turn to anger.

The conversations around me grow louder, but I don’t see anyone moving closer to me to be able to hear things so clearly. The negative comments are coming more frequently, aggravating me to the point where things almost overwhelm me. I want to get away from it, to silence the noise for a few moments, long enough to settle down.

I close my eyes, deciding that finding Zahra would be my main focus. When I search the last area that I remember finding her, I don’t see her there anymore. Irritation over not being able to keep up with her has me amped up, and I scold myself over not simply moving closer to her so she can see I was there. Now, I have no clue where she could have gone, and I’m stuck dealing with these jackasses who haven’t moved and whose voices I can hear as though they are sitting next to me.

“Hi, Yasir, I’m glad you didn’t abandon me after all. I almost gave up on you.”

I jump out of my skin, annoyed over how I didn’t feel her walking over and sitting down next to me. All the other distractions must have caused me to lose focus, and I make a mental note to do something about it. The jeggings she’s wearing and a graphic T-shirt peeking from inside her hoodie that depicts RiRi Williams catches my attention first. She has her braids swept up in a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a peach lip gloss that brings out her bronzed skin tone, but the stadium lights play tricks on me. I’m convinced it’s an intoxicating mix between bronze and amber, almost matching my eye color. She’s been kissed by Ra, the Egyptian sun god, and I’m willing to go blind staring at the glow surrounding her.

I blink a few times, praying I’m not dreaming, checking around us to notice that the crowd in the immediate area around us has suddenly disappeared. It must be halftime. “Um, hi, Zahra.”

“Are you okay? You looked like you needed rescuing.” She moves closer to me, and my heart is beating faster than it takes the Flash to go from zero to Mach 1. Keep it together, bro. “I should’ve come and found you. This stadium can be a bit much for people who haven’t been here before.”

I turn to meet her concerned gaze, and I swear everything melts away in seconds. I want to get lost inside her eyes, and I have a harder time forming words than usual. “Yeah, I don’t do well in large crowds, but I try to manage. Having you here helps. Thank you for finding me. It means a lot.”

We keep shifting around each other like we’re trying to figure out if we want to be close to each other or if we want to act like we don’t. I catch her blushing as our eyes meet for a few seconds, and I sweep a stray braid out of her face, grateful for the excuse to touch her. I don’t even care that the crowd is as large as it is anymore. As long as she’s sitting next to me, none of that even matters.

“I don’t know if I’m actually helping or not, but I’m really glad you didn’t ghost me,” Zahra replies, putting her hand on top of my arm. I feel an instant spark the moment she touches me. “I’d really like to finish our convo from earlier, if that’s okay?”

All of this is happening too fast. There’s no way she can be this into me in such a short amount of time. As much as I don’t want my insecurities to rise to the surface, I can’t help myself. I stare at her, ignoring her surprised expression. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, ask me anything.”

“Have you figured out whether your feelings toward me are positive or negative yet?” I avoid her gaze, choosing to focus on the field and the game. I’m a bit scared that I ask the question, but I fear the answer even more. “I realize actions speak louder, but I guess I want to know… I need to know…”

She leans in and wraps her arm through mine, and my whole body ignites against my will. I turn toward her, and she blushes. “Yes, I’ve figured it out, but I still want to get to know you better to make sure you are who I think you are.”

“And when will we have time to get to know each other better so you can let me in on the answer to my question?”

Her eyes never leave mine. I can’t take my eyes off her, either. I just don’t want her to leave. “Soon, I promise. I don’t want to keep you waiting too long, but I said what I said. I need to see you, and I plan to do just that.”

Zahra leans in closer. Her smile takes down any walls I’d built up to keep her from getting in deeper. I don’t press my luck, though; I’ve been down this road one other time, and that ended badly. I don’t want to mess this one up; something feels different, and I need to find out what it might be.

…

The minute I sink into Storm’s leather seats and push the ignition button to hear the engine roar to life, I release a long, relieved sigh. I made it through the game without any other issues. That alone is a victory I have no problems claiming.

I need to recharge badly because whatever energy I expended has me tired and then some. I have no problems going home, pulling the covers over my head, and crashing out until early morning when it’s time to head out with Unk.

I take a moment to reminisce over what turned out to be a wonderful night. The highlight came when I escorted Zahra and her best friend, Kendyl, to Zahra’s car. Kendyl is on the cheerleading squad, and while Zahra isn’t squad, she does function as a team equipment manager—thank goodness I was right—which gives her access to the field, which makes her cheer-adjacent in my book.

Kendyl’s a little taller than Zahra, and she struck me as Afro-Latina from the hint of a sing-song cadence in her voice, and her saddle-brown skin shined under the lighting in the parking lot. Her hair was pulled back into a naturally wavy ponytail, and her striking hazel eyes and pouty lips attracted attention from the boys all the way to the car. Still, she kept a close eye on me the entire time, something I expected a best friend to do, so it didn’t bother me all that much. Sooner or later, I’m gonna have to handle the third-degree questioning from her. I’ll just have to be ready.

I tried to hide how impressed I was that Zahra drove an Audi RS. It was silver and gleamed against the moonlight, and Raiden—Zahra’s nickname for this pretty piece of machinery—was part of her master plan to eventually design electric motors and jet engines. I made a mental note to have a longer convo about what she knows about engines in general and a few other things that have my imagination in overdrive.

Still, there’s something about a STEM girl. If you know, you know.

I watched as she gushed about naming her prized machine after the lightning god from the Mortal Kombat games and movies. She even races, which made me wonder if she really had skills like that. I’m not gonna lie, though: I honestly thought it belonged to one of the groups of boys who were bragging about their cars when I first got to the stadium. That’s what I get for assuming too much, huh?

While I want to settle down a little bit, the truth is I’m amped up. I’m not feeling hip-hop tonight, so I connect my phone and scroll through my playlist. I smile when Burna Boy pops up; this is what I need for real! The bass in the speakers syncs with my heartbeat, influencing the aggression in my driving as I cruise down the road. I make it a few miles into my drive when I notice a group of boys off to my right. I check in that direction, focusing on the one in the middle of the group. As I get closer, I see Ian nearly getting his face bashed in by one of the other boys while another holds him down to keep him from protecting himself. They’re all wearing Baytown colors, and it doesn’t take long to figure out that Ian is in a world of trouble.

My instinct takes over as I slam the brakes, then hop out of my Jeep to confront the group. Things might be complicated between us, but he doesn’t deserve to go out bad like this.

“Let him go, right now, and you can walk away without a noticeable limp.”

All eyes are on me as they snap their glances in my direction, and the one throwing the punches steps away from Ian and heads toward me. “Who the hell is this? Do you know this man, Ian?” he barks, balling his fists. “Maybe you need to help him catch these bows for costing us the game, huh? You Oakwood, too, my guy?”

“I don’t know him, Jordin,” Ian replies. He glares at me, tilting his head toward my car. I know what he wants me to do, but that’s not an option. “Just some rando who has a savior complex. He needs to learn not to stick his nose in business that doesn’t pay him.”

“It’s obvi that I don’t learn lessons, but I’m not about to stand by and watch while you beat someone down without making it a fair fight.” The other two boys close a circle around me, each with a problem that they feel needs to be handled. I keep my cool, still talking big, whether we are outnumbered or not. “Step away now, and no one will get hurt. Last warning. You won’t like how this is gonna end, trust.”

My nerves are on edge all over again, and I’m scared that I’ve broken off more than I can handle. One on three, with Ian held down and unable to help—the odds are definitely not in my favor.

“Are you kidding me?” Jordin scoffs, looking at the boy standing next to him before he turns his attention on me. “You’re out of your depth on this one. Just take the L and go home.”

I grit my teeth as I try to keep a line of sight on the other three boys who are circling me. He might have a point, but I’m not about to let him know that. “Can’t do that, bro. If I have to catch a fade, then bring it. Let Ian go so it can be a fair fight. I thought you South Georgia boys were supposed to be nice with your hands.”

Jordin looks at the other boys, then shakes his head as he stares at me. “Reggie, Mark, drop this fool, please. Larry, keep Ian steady. This won’t take long at all. This one needs his mouth shut.”

“Why don’t you come and shut it, huh? Big talk when you got back up, yo.” Yeah, fear is controlling my mouth, and it’s wrapping itself in a swagger that I don’t have the greatest confidence in right now. To put it in Unk’s terms, I’m writing checks that I’m not sure my fists can cash. “Or maybe you ain’t got it in you to do it?”

Mark and Reggie rush me from behind, trying to grab at me and pull me down. I turn to confront them, ducking one wild swing from Mark at my head and dropping him to the ground with a swift left hook to his jaw. I’m already in motion, staying on my toes to keep my movements as random as possible. I stay in the view of my headlights, keeping the fight from shifting into the darkness.

Reggie steps in, getting a punch into my ribs, causing me to yell out in pain. He gets me good, and the power behind that punch worries me. I sidestep a couple more swings from him, landing a left hook to his rib cage that causes him to wince, holding his side for a moment before he comes at me again. He manages to get another punch across my jaw as I try to get in to crack a few bones, drawing blood with the strike and causing me to fall back against the front of my car.

“You got some pop, I’ll give you that. I’m gonna need to put you down quick,” Reggie yells as he continues to swing at me, going for the knockout punch. “Hold still. You’re making this hard on yourself.”

I keep weaving and ducking; the adrenaline has me on edge and unable to focus. I feel like I’m gonna pass out if I don’t end this quick.

The way I feel right now is strange, and I can’t make sense of it. I feel faster, stronger, and like I can’t run out of energy, no matter how much I burn. Everything is moving in slow motion, like I’m a part of an anime battle sequence and I can see every move as it happens and move to avoid getting hit while landing bone-crunching hits to my adversary. I’ve never moved like this, and it has me confused and a bit scared of what’s happening to me, but not to where I can’t make short work of Reggie.

He feels another punch to his jaw, and the way he screams in pain almost takes me out of my zone. I can’t make out what he’s trying to say, and from the way he’s flinching as he tries to move his mouth, it’s easy to figure out that I broke it. He yells out as he rushes at me in anger, ready to do whatever it takes to end me.

I finally find the opening I need, landing three or four hits to his ribs and chest, hitting him hard enough to make him drop his right hand to protect his body. From there, it’s easy: a right-handed uppercut to his chin and a couple more to finish him off as Reggie falls unconscious to the pavement.

Two down, two to go.

I’m still a bit disoriented from whatever I’m feeling, almost like I’m coming down from the most intense adrenaline rush ever. I stare at my hands and arms, and I swear they look like they’re…glowing? I blink a few times to figure out if I’m hallucinating, and the crimson glow is still there, almost causing me to panic. Am I on fire? What’s happening to me?

I try to focus on the immediate threat, and that’s the other two boys that are still upright and probably coming for me. I close my eyes to try to focus for a few seconds. I need to not get damaged too badly or, worse, unalived. That’s not part of my plans, either, dammit.

Before I can turn around to deal with Jordin, I feel a blow to my lower back, dropping me to the pavement. I stare into Jordin’s eyes before noticing the metal bat in his hand, and in that moment, I know I’m in real trouble. I have no way of protecting myself if he decides to start swinging, and I’m trying my best to scramble to my feet. I can’t get my footing, and fear quickly turns to panic now.

“That’s it, that’s the look I was waiting for. Sooner or later, you were gonna get got.” Jordin spits on the ground as he crouches over me. “You got heart, my guy, but that’s over with now. Time to put you to sleep.”

“Nah, bro, it’s time to sing you a lullaby,” Ian interjects as he throws a punch to the side of Jordin’s face, watching him drop to the concrete like a sack of potatoes. “Night-night, bitch.”

He comes face-to-face with me in the next instant, both of us checking the unconscious bodies around us. I study Ian’s irritated expression. “What’s got you looking like I stole your favorite chain?”

“I told you to stay out of it,” Ian shouts. “I had it under control. What do you want, a ‘thank you’ or something?”

“Oh yeah, you had it all under control, my boy,” I point out, stepping deeper into his personal space. Fear is still driving the adrenaline rushing through me, and I don’t care that I’m on the verge of talking reckless. I just covered him, and he wants to sound ungrateful? “And nah, you don’t need to say thank you, but you’re welcome, anyway.”

As the sirens blare in the distance, Ian pushes me toward my car. I don’t know how they knew to come. Someone must have seen us fighting and called 911. I keep resisting, confused over what he’s doing. “What the hell is going on? You need a witness to deal with this mess.”

“You don’t know how Oakwood Grove works. Just get out of here and let me deal with this,” Ian roars before opening my door and pushing me inside. “I won’t repeat myself. Get the hell out of here. Right now! Go!”