Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
I look away. “Seven.”
He swears, and we all go silent for a minute. Football, or music. We’ve walked the tightrope between them all summer and all of this semester, but now, we’re at a crossroads. Now, we need to pick. I look up, and when I see the looks in their eyes, I know we’ve all come to the same realization.
“Fuck it,” Griff mutters, shaking his head. “Fuck football. I say we go rock that stage.”
Carson smiles grimly as he nods. “Hell yeah. I’m in.”
They both look at me, and slowly, I nod, my jaw tight.
“Let’s do it. Let’s go—”
The door to the locker room swings open with a bang, and suddenly, Coach Stokes strides in.
“Gents,” he growls, eyeing us all. We hold his gaze, the three of us buzzing with the possibly life-altering course we’ve just decided on.
“Alright, I’m gonna get right too it,” Coach mutters quietly, folding his arms over his chest. “Here’s how this is going to work. Look, I get it. I know you guys have other stuff—”
“Coach—”
“I’m not an idiot, Reeves,” he mutters at Griff. “I know you guys have this band thing. And I’m glad you found yourselves a little group hobby. But the rest of the guys on this team have football, and they’ve worked too damn hard for three of my starting players to fuck them over,” he growls.
The three of us glance at each other.
“You’re not playing at the band thing tonight, guys.”
My jaw clenches, my eyes narrowing at him. “Coach—”
“You aren’t.”
His words slice through the silence of the locker room.
“You’re playing fucking football tonight, and you’re going to win.” He sighs. “And if you skip out on me, believe me, I’ll have you suspended, and the shit will hit the fan. Even with your parents’ money, and even with Winchester Academy on a college app, a suspension right before college boards sit down to look at your records is not a good thing.”
Carson scowls. “Coach, you can’t—”
“I sure fucking can!” he snaps, eyeing us angrily before he sighs and brings his hands up to rub his temples.
“I’m not the bad guy here, fellas. But I am going to be the law on this. There’s too many other people depending on—”
“Someone is depending on us,” I hiss.
“Zara Bateman?” he tosses back, silencing us like a slap to the face. “Yeah, I know, Anders.”
His look hardens.
“You can let her down, or you can let thirty other guys down who’ve had your back on and off the field for years. You can let your families down, and honestly, your college prospects, or, you play some football tonight, win it, and move on with your lives as intended. But I promise you, you do not want to mess with me on this. I understand you made plans for this music thing tonight, but football is your first commitment. Those other guys out there on that field are you first commitment, and I will not let you fuck them over.”
He takes a breath, nodding at each of us.
“Figure it out, re-plan what you need to re-plan, and I will see you on that field tonight.”
Coach takes a breath and holds his hand out.
“Phones.”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“Phones, fucking now, Mr. Teller. No bullshit.”
I grind my teeth, glancing at my two buddies.
“Now or never, gentlemen,” Coach growls. “Gimme the phones, and get your asses on that bus, or there will be severe consequences.”
We all eye each other for another few seconds, before Carson shakes his head.
“Fuck, man,” he growls, looking at me. “Look, we’ll get in touch with her from the bus.”
“This is fucked,” Griff muttered, grinding his teeth.
“Guys, I get that it’s shit situation. But you’re either letting this one girl down, or your whole team. And I won’t let you do the second. I can’t. I don’t want to be that guy, but I promise you, shit will get real and college prospects will get real bad if you walk on this team. Do the right thing, gentlemen.”
“Look, there’s a second night of qualifiers tomorrow,” I grunt. “It won’t be a headliner slot, but we can still blow it up then.”
Griff, Carson, and I look at each other, and we each take a deep breath. I know it’s shitty. They know it’s shitty. But we also know we’re out of choices.
“Here,” I spit, slapping my phone into Coach’s hand. Griff and Carson do the same, and we stand back, hands clenched and fury swirling behind our eyes.
“Use this, guys,” Coach says quietly. “I’m sorry. I really am. But use this, and let’s go take this team to a championship.” He sighs, raking his nails over his chin.
“She’ll understand, fellas. I promise. Now, let’s go. Be on that bus in five.”
He turns and walks away, leaving the three of us in silence.
15
Zara
My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and there’s a little shake to my hands as I squeeze them into fists repeatedly. Out there, beyond the stage, and the curtain, I can hear the roar of the crowd. One of the other headliner acts has just finished, and they’re really fucking good. Like, crazy good, and their lead singer is so talented it actually hurts.