Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: My Worst Night, His Best Side

The bass from the bar speakers felt like a physical punch hitting Zoya right in the chest.

The air was hot, sticky, and completely suffocating. It smelled strongly of cheap beer, sweat, and artificial cherry syrup. Colored neon lights flashed across the crowded room, making her head spin in slow, sickening circles.

Zoya hated clubs. She hated loud music. She hated standing in a room where she could not hear herself think.

"Come on, Zoya!" Mark yelled right into her ear. He was a guy from her advanced tort law seminar. He held a tiny plastic cup filled with bright blue liquid. "You scored the highest grade in the entire class. You have to celebrate!"

"I am celebrating," Zoya said flatly. She stared at the sticky wooden table. "I am sitting here. That is enough."

"Not even close!" a girl named Sarah cheered from across the table. She shoved the blue shot glass directly into Zoya’s hand. "Drink it! Drink it!"

The entire table of law students started chanting. They clapped their hands against the wood.

Zoya looked at the blue liquid. She felt a massive headache forming behind her eyes. She was exhausted. She had spent the last three weeks sleeping exactly four hours a night to study for midterms. Her brain was completely fried. Her usual iron-clad defenses were entirely worn down.

She just wanted them to shut up.

Zoya lifted the plastic cup. She tilted her head back and swallowed the bright blue shot in one gulp.

It burned like pure fire straight down her throat.

The table erupted into loud, obnoxious cheering. Mark clapped her hard on the back. Zoya coughed into her fist, her eyes watering instantly. The sweet, chemical taste made her stomach churn violently.

That was the fourth shot they had forced her to take in the last hour.

Zoya set the empty cup down. The table suddenly tilted to the left. The neon lights blurred together into a messy, colorful streak.

She stood up. Her legs felt completely disconnected from her body.

"Where are you going?" Mark slurred, grabbing her sleeve.

"Bathroom," Zoya lied. She pulled her arm away carefully. "Do not follow me."

She turned around and pushed her way through the crowded dance floor. People bumped into her shoulders, but she did not stop to glare at them. She just focused on the glowing red exit sign above the back door.

She hit the heavy metal bar of the door and shoved it open.

The freezing night wind hit her hot face instantly. It felt absolutely amazing.

Zoya stumbled out into the dark alleyway behind the bar. The heavy door clicked shut, instantly muffling the loud, thumping bass music. The sudden quiet was a massive relief. The air back here smelled like damp brick and old rain.

She walked a few steps away from the door. Her boots scraped loudly against the rough concrete. She leaned her back against the cold brick wall of the building and closed her eyes.

She took a long, shaky breath. The world was still spinning in slow circles. She hated losing control. She hated feeling dizzy.

A quiet, soft giggle echoed down the alleyway.

Zoya opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was still a little blurry.

She looked down the dark, narrow stretch of the alley. Near a flickering yellow streetlamp, two dark shadows were pressed tightly together against the opposite brick wall.

It was a guy and a girl.

The guy was tall, wearing a thick varsity jacket. The girl had her back pressed against the bricks. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the guy’s neck. They were completely wrapped up in each other. They were kissing heavily, totally ignoring the rest of the world.

Zoya stared at them. She normally would have just rolled her eyes and walked back inside. She had absolutely no interest in watching strangers make out in an alley.

But the flickering yellow streetlamp caught the side of the guy’s face.

Zoya blinked. She squinted through the dark.

She recognized that broad jawline. She recognized the messy brown hair. She recognized the Westbridge football jacket.

It was Jackson.

Zoya stood frozen against her wall. Her alcohol soaked brain completely short circuited.

Jackson was supposed to be the loud, annoying midfielder who bothered her in the library. He was the guy who threw french fries at his teammates. Seeing him pinned against a wall, completely focused and quiet, felt entirely bizarre.

Her mouth moved before her brain could stop it.

"What the..." Zoya said out loud.

Her voice echoed sharply in the quiet, empty alleyway.

The two shadows instantly froze.

Jackson pulled back from the girl. He turned his head quickly, looking down the dark alley to see who had spoken.

The girl let out a very loud, annoyed sigh. She smoothed down her hair. "Seriously? Who is out here?"

Jackson stared into the shadows. He squinted his eyes. He spotted the small figure leaning against the brick wall.

"Zoya?" Jackson asked. His loud, confident voice was completely filled with shock.

Zoya tried to stand up straight. It was a massive mistake. Her knees immediately buckled. She swayed heavily to the right, catching herself on a dirty metal dumpster just in time to avoid hitting the concrete.

"Do not mind me," Zoya slurred slightly. She waved a clumsy hand in the air. "Continue eating her face. I am just observing the local wildlife."

Jackson completely let go of his date. He took a few steps forward into the dim light.

His eyes went wide. He looked at Zoya’s messy hair. He looked at the way she was gripping the dumpster like it was a life raft. He instantly realized what was happening.

The cocky, arrogant football player completely vanished.

"You are wasted," Jackson stated quietly.

"I am perfectly fine," Zoya snapped. She glared at him, but her eyes could not quite focus on his face. "I am a scholar. I have superior mental fortitude."

The girl walked up behind Jackson. She crossed her arms and glared at Zoya.

"Jackson, who is this?" the girl demanded. Her tone was sharp and incredibly rude. "Are we going to your dorm or not?"

Jackson did not look at the girl. He kept his eyes completely locked on Zoya. He watched her sway again. She looked incredibly pale.

"We are not going anywhere, Megan," Jackson said flatly.

"What?" Megan gasped.

"I have to take her home," Jackson explained. He finally turned his head to look at his date. "She is a friend of my captain. I cannot leave her alone in an alley when she can barely stand up."

Megan scoffed loudly. She looked at Zoya with pure disgust. "You are ditching me for some drunk girl you barely know?"

"Yes," Jackson said simply. There was absolutely no hesitation in his voice. "Call a cab, Megan. Have a good night."

Megan let out a furious, offended noise. She turned around on her heels and marched out of the alleyway, her shoes clicking aggressively against the pavement.

Jackson completely ignored her dramatic exit. He walked straight over to Zoya.

He stopped right in front of her. He looked down at her small, shivering frame.

"You ruined my date," Jackson pointed out gently.

"Your date had a terrible personality," Zoya mumbled. She rested her hot forehead against the cold metal of the dumpster. "You should be thanking me."

Jackson let out a quiet, surprised laugh. The sound rumbled deep in his broad chest.

"Let go of the trash can, Zoya," Jackson told her. "It is entirely covered in bacteria."

"It is keeping me upright," Zoya argued stubbornly.

"I will keep you upright," Jackson promised.

He reached out. His large, warm hands gently wrapped around her shoulders. He carefully pulled her away from the dirty metal bin.

Zoya stumbled forward instantly. Her legs completely refused to work.

Jackson caught her easily. He slipped one strong arm securely around her waist. He pulled her against his side, letting her lean her entire weight against his thick varsity jacket.

He smelled like clean laundry, cold night air, and very expensive cologne.

"You are very warm," Zoya complained quietly. She rested her spinning head against his chest. It was a total accident, but she was too dizzy to stop herself.

"You are freezing," Jackson replied. "And you smell like artificial blue raspberries. What were you drinking?"

"Poison," Zoya muttered. "My coursemates are absolute idiots."

"Clearly," Jackson agreed. He started walking slowly toward the main street. He supported her completely, making sure she did not trip over the uneven concrete.

"I do not need help," Zoya stated. Her voice was muffled against his jacket.

"I know you don’t," Jackson said soothingly. "But you are getting it anyway. Just humor me."

They reached the main road. The bright streetlights made Zoya squeeze her eyes shut tightly. Jackson held up his free hand and flagged down a passing yellow taxi.

He opened the back door and carefully guided Zoya into the seat. She slumped heavily against the vinyl interior. Jackson climbed in right next to her and closed the door.

He leaned forward and gave the driver an address.

Zoya opened one eye. She frowned at him.

"Why do you know where I live?" Zoya asked suspiciously.

"Because Captain never shuts up about Audrey’s apartment," Jackson answered honestly. He leaned back against the seat. "He talks about that place like it is a holy sanctuary."

Zoya smiled a tiny, tired smile. "He is very annoying."

"He is the worst," Jackson agreed.

The taxi ride was completely quiet. The neon city lights flashed through the windows, casting moving shadows across Jackson’s face. Zoya watched him through her half closed eyes.

He was not acting loud. He was not making stupid jokes. He was just sitting quietly, keeping a close eye on her to make sure she was not going to be sick.

It was a very confusing side of him.

The taxi finally pulled up to the curb outside her apartment building. Jackson paid the driver and climbed out. He held his hand out to help Zoya.

Zoya ignored his hand. She tried to step out of the car by herself. Her boot caught the edge of the doorframe. She tripped forward.

Jackson caught her immediately. Both of his hands grabbed her waist, stopping her from hitting the pavement.

"Easy," Jackson murmured. His voice was incredibly low in the quiet street.

Zoya looked up. His face was very close to hers. His dark eyes were fixed completely on her.

Her heart did a sudden, very strange jump in her chest. The heat from his hands burned right through the fabric of her neat blazer.

"I tripped on a rock," Zoya lied instantly.

"There are no rocks on this sidewalk," Jackson noted with a small smile.

"It was an invisible rock."

"Right. My mistake."

He did not let go of her waist. He kept his arm securely wrapped around her as he walked her up the front steps of the building.

"Do not tell Audrey," Zoya whispered as they reached her front door. "She will worry. I hate when people worry."

Jackson looked down at her pale, tired face. The teasing look completely left his eyes. He looked surprisingly serious.

"I will not tell anyone," Jackson promised quietly. "Your secret is completely safe with me, encyclopedia."