Chapter 10 - THE GUILT

Adrian POV

I shouldn't be here.

From my spot behind the library column, I watch Jules carry a cardboard box down her dorm steps. Maya follows with another box, and even from fifty yards away, I can see how thin Jules has gotten in just four days.

"Cross, you coming to practice?" Tyler's voice behind me makes me jump.

I step away from the column quickly. "Yeah. Just heading there now."

Tyler follows my gaze across the quad. "Still watching her, huh?"

"No," I lied.

"Right." He claps my shoulder. "Coach sees you anywhere near her, you're done. You know that."

I know. I've known since the team meeting when Coach made it crystal clear—stay away from Jules or lose everything.

Tyler heads toward the athletic complex, but my feet won't move. I watch Jules trip on the bottom step, the box tilting dangerously before Maya steadies her. Even her coordination is off.

This is my fault.

The thought pounds through my head. Every consequence she's facing, every cruel comment, every moment of isolation—it all traces back to me saying yes when I should have said no.

My phone buzzes with a text from Coach: Practice in 20. Don't be late.

I pocket it and watch Jules climb into Maya's passenger seat. Her shoulders are hunched forward like she's trying to make herself smaller. Invisible.

She used to walk across campus like she owned it. Head high, that confident stride that first caught my attention freshman year.

Now she moves like a ghost.

You did this to her.

The voice in my head sounds like my father's, that same disappointed tone he used before he left. Everything you touch turns to shit, Adrian. You're poisonous.

I turn away before Jules can spot me lurking like some creep. My feet carry me toward the athletic building on autopilot.

The equipment room is empty when I pass it. I shouldn't look inside, but I do anyway.

The memory hits me without warning.

Three weeks ago.

Jules pinned against the storage shelves, my hands tangled in her hair. Her laugh, vibrating against my mouth as she teased me about missing practice.

"Worth it," I'd whispered, kissing down her neck.

"Your coach will kill you."

"My coach is your dad. That's way worse."

She'd pulled back to look at me, eyes bright with trust. "Adrian?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

The words felt like coming home.

"Cross!"

Coach Stevens' voice snaps me back to the present. The assistant coach is watching me from his office doorway.

"You're late."

"Sorry, Coach. Just"

"Save it." He jerks his head toward the locker room. "Get changed. And Cross? Stop torturing yourself. What's done is done."

But that's the problem. It's not done. Jules is still suffering while I get to keep my scholarship, my team, my future.

All I had to do was abandon her completely.

******

Practice is brutal.

Ethan won't look at me during warm-ups. When Coach pairs us for drills, the tension is so thick I can barely breathe.

"Cross, you're overthinking it," Coach barks as my third pass goes wide. "Get your head in the game."

But my head is across campus, wondering if Jules has eaten anything today. If she's crying in Maya's dorm. If she hates me yet.

She should. I hate myself enough for both of us.

"Water break," Coach calls.

I grab my bottle and slump onto the bench. My knuckles throb where I punched my dorm wall last night, skin split and bruised.

"That looks bad," Tyler says, nodding at my hand.

"It's fine."

"You know what's not fine? You moping around like somebody died." He sits beside me. "Jules made her choice. You made yours. Time to move on."

"It's not that simple."

"Sure it is." Tyler takes a long drink. "She knew what would happen. She did it anyway. That's on her."

The casual dismissal makes my jaw clench. "She didn't do it alone."

"But she started it, right?" Tyler leans closer. "Coach said she came after you first. Is that true?"

The question feels like a trap. "It was mutual."

"That's not what Coach thinks. He thinks she seduced you to get back at her family or something." Tyler shrugs. "Either way, she's the coach's daughter. She had way more to lose and did it anyway. That's pretty selfish if you ask me."

I want to defend her. I want to explain that Jules never thought about consequences because she genuinely believed we could make it work.

But defending her now would just make everything worse.

"I should get back to drills," I say instead.

Tyler grabs my arm before I can stand. "Look, man. I'm just saying—don't destroy yourself over a girl who's probably already moved on."

The suggestion that Jules has moved on feels like another punch to the gut.

Because I know Jules. She's loyal to a fault, trusts too easily, loves too deeply. She's probably sitting in Maya's dorm right now, trying to figure out how to fix something that can't be fixed.

While I'm here, choosing football over her heart.

"Cross!" Coach's voice booms across the field. "You planning to join us?"

I jog back to the drill line, but my mind stays stuck on Jules. On the way she looked at me outside the training facility, desperate and broken.

"Adrian, please. Just five minutes."

"There's nothing to talk about."

The memory makes me sick. I'd looked her in the eyes and lied, telling her what we had was a mistake.

To protect my scholarship. To save my future.

To prove I'm exactly what my father always said—someone who destroys everything he touches.

******

After practice, I skip the showers and head straight back to my dorm. My roommate is out, giving me the privacy to fall apart.

I sink onto my bed and pull out my phone. Jules' contact stares back at me, her profile picture from homecoming. She's laughing, eyes crinkled, completely unguarded.

Three missed calls. Two voicemails.

I should delete them. Should block her number like Coach wants.

Instead, I press play on the first voicemail.

"Adrian, it's me." Her voice is small, uncertain. "I know you said we shouldn't talk, but I just... I need to know you're okay. Call me back. Please."

The second one is from yesterday.

"I saw you at practice today. You looked right through me." A shaky breath. "I don't understand what I did wrong. If you could just explain... Adrian, I love you. That has to mean something."

It does mean something.

It means I'm destroying her slowly instead of all at once.

My fist connects with the wall before I realize I'm moving. Once, twice, three times until pain radiates up my arm and blood smears the white paint.

"I'm toxic," I say to the empty room. "Everything I touch burns."

My phone buzzes. For one second, I think it might be Jules.

It's Coach Stevens: Need to talk. My office. Tomorrow 8am.