ABOVE AND BEYOND

Adam’s POV

I stormed out of that damn room, pissed as hell.

What the actual fuck was that? How was I supposed to live with fucking Emerson if he kept starting stupid shit? And how was I supposed to learn anything if I was being taught by that moron? I didn’t believe he was that smart. He must be cheating on his exams, that had to be it.

There had to be other tutors in this school. Hell— there had to be freshmen smarter than him. Surely my last resort couldn't be Emerson fucking Beckett. It couldn’t, the stars weren’t falling from the sky just yet.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, scowling as I stalked out of the lobby, deciding right then and there to blow off whatever crap Langdon required of me tonight. I wasn't going to sit around that room, I might just Beckett's head through the wall.

An evening run. Yes, that's what I needed. Blow off some steam, clear my head. Pound the track so hard it'd shut down all the noise in my head. I started walking.

Of course, my feet — traitors that they were— took me straight to the football field. I sighed at I stared out into the empty stands.

But where else could I have gone? The field was my life. Always had been, and I wanted it to stay that way.

I took off sprinting on the track. A few moments later, I caught Luke and Connor,

both of them slowing down as they caught sight of me.

"Yo, Pierce!" Luke greeted, waving. Connor grinned lazily, jogging up beside him.

"What's up?" I said, my voice still rough from the fight.

"First game's in like two months, dude. Coach is up everybody's butt, so we were just taking a short run," Luke smiled, a little lopsided. "You need to be ready too, bro. Nobody wants you benched."

"Yeah," Connor chuckled, his speech a little loose — perhaps stoned, as per usual. "Dude, you can't sit this one out. It's State, man. State!"

"I'm not going to sit it out," I replied, a little testily. I fucking knew it was State. It seemed like everyone and everything had decided to fucking remind me until my ears bled. "I'll be ready."

"Good," Luke said, clapping me on the back, oblivious to my bad mood. "So, there's a party for first-years a few miles down the road tonight. You in? New faces, new bodies... If you wanna stick your dick in some new pussy, man, now's the time."

Connor laughed, shaking his head. "Luke, bro — filter, dude. The guy's already got enough on his plate."

I pretended to laugh, shaking my head. I couldn't tell think of what else I'd rather not do, surrounded by loud music and drunk people. God forbid, I see Mandy. "Pass. I'm good. But you have fun guys."

I ran past them, ignoring Luke's half-drunk laugh, as they both continued on their way.

The second I started running on the track again, my father's words echoed in my mind like a broken record, mixing in with coach's, like a haunting symphony. The warbled warnings repeated in my head, painfully scratching at my brain. I gritted my teeth, cursing under my breath. Even my own damn mind wouldn't leave me alone.

I would get no help softening Calvin Pierce. I know he didn't believe it, but my step mother hated me. My older step-brother, Silvester, was only ever around for holidays.

I couldn't blame my father, he was pushing me to be the best version of myself. It's just. . . he was pushing me too hard, and toward insanity. I couldn't blink without thinking about what I was on the brink of loosing.

I'd always excelled, at what my dad wanted me to do, yes, but they were thing that were good for me. Besides I also wanted to do them. I would have chosen them myself, it was just that my Dad had chosen them first. Because he cared for me, and more importantly, he wanted me to succeed.

I ran until my legs started to hurt but I didn't push myself too hard because I'd be running this same track in again in a few hours, come morning.

Panting, I lowered myself down to catch my breath. I couldn't let all my hard work go to waste over a few test, I wouldn't. I needed to find another tutor. Anyone but Beckett.

He was so infuriating, so unnecessarily cocky. He was one to talk about my life when his was a dumpster fire. He had nothing, except his stupid fucking face.

I already had to live with the guy and there was nothing I could do about that. All things considered that dorm was the best place for me right now. I wouldn't report what happened tonight— I couldn't risk being found guilty by a disciplinary committee and forced to move out, instead of Beckett — and I knew he wouldn’t either. But I couldn't go back just yet.

I knew where Coach kept the spare key to the locker room so I let myself in. Getting two wide, dry towel, I dragged two benches together. I laid one on my makeshift bed, shut off the bright light so no one would see and come investigate. I didn't even need it, I spent as much time in here as I did eating. I made my way back and tossed the other towel over myself.

Alone, in the darkness, exhausted, the fear I'd been pushing back burst forth and I squeezed my eyes against the onslaught of sudden, warm tears. Fuck. I would not cry. It wasn't hopeless, not yet.

A small voice at the back of my head still refused to be silenced. What if I couldn't do it?

It was a painful thought. Because what if I really couldn't? What if I simply wasn't smart enough to pass? I'd tried last year, and now I was supposed to try twice as hard? I didn't know if I had it in me.

And what would I do if what I loved

was taken away from me, because of my own shortcomings?