Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“…done for today. Let me know how you do.”
“How I do what?”
Rory snorted. “Wow. I really did lose you. Text me after your quiz. If you can remember anything that stumps you, we’ll try to go over it again before your big test next week.”
I sighed heavily. “I doubt I’ll remember anything. Geez, I’ll be lucky to make it out of there alive. I have a game tomorrow. I can study over the weekend.”
He regarded me for a long moment before speaking. “Is your game local?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll come.”
“To my game?” I sat up tall and furrowed my brow, instantly alert and confused as hell.
Rory chuckled at my wide-eyed expression. “Yeah. You know, I’ve seen you play.”
“Really? When?”
“A few weeks ago. Sometime after we’d first started this tutoring gig,” he replied casually.
“You should have told me you were there.”
“Dude, the stadium was a madhouse. It’s already small, and they pack ’em in like sardines. I couldn’t have announced myself without climbing over a dozen people to get to you,” he huffed.
“Oh. I wish I’d known.” I kept my voice low. I wasn’t sure he actually heard me, which would have been fine. I sounded wistful, and that was all kinds of embarrassing. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I don’t know. I mean, it was a homework assignment for me in a way. I wanted to see you in action and get a feel for your style of play. You were on fire that night,” he said with a smile. I was immensely pleased with his admission until he added, “Evan told me you were cool under pressure. Easily one of the best quarterbacks he knows.”
“You talked about me with Evan?”
“Yeah. We weren’t exactly gossiping, but he knows I’m tutoring you.” Rory frowned. “Is that a problem?”
Fuck, yes. I wiped my suddenly damp palms on my jeans and shook my head. “No. Not at all.”
“Well, anyway, I decided it was time to see for myself. I bought a ticket at the gate and ended up sitting next to your fan club. A bunch of girls screaming your name at the top of their lungs. It was brutal. By some freak miracle, I managed to tune them out and concentrate on the game. You specifically.”
“Me specifically?”
“Yes, you’re the guy who controls the action on a football team with a winning record. Our mutual friend claims you’ve got ice water in your veins when a posse of giant defenders comes at you, but I get the guy who flinches at the sight of a math problem.”
“Ha. There are a lot of people like me.”
“Maybe, but you’re the only one that matters to me.”
I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but that sentiment, paired with his piercing gaze, did something to me.
I shifted on my seat and pursed my lips thoughtfully. “What did you find out?”
“You’re a fucking great quarterback who sucks at math,” he deadpanned.
I threw my head back and laughed. “I’m pretty sure I told you that a few weeks ago.”
“No, you downplayed what you excel at and made it seem like you’re desperate to graduate and get the hell out. Which is kinda interesting. Most people at the top of their game are all about dragging out their glory moment. Not you. Why?”
“I’m a realist. This game is fun and I love it, but I know my limits. My arm is good, and my aim is generally on target. But you have to be exceptional to make it to the pros and unfortunately, a great third-division quarterback doesn’t always make it to the big league.”
“What do you want to do after you graduate?”
“Move. Get a job. Find a place to just…”
“Just what?” Rory prodded.
“Be free,” I said softly.
Rory nodded slowly and observed me for a moment. “I know what you mean. But from what I could tell, you seem free on the field. You’re in a zone when you’re out there calling the shots. You’re relaxed. Shoulders down, eye on the prize, ready for battle. Leader of the offense. You don’t notice the crowd, the opposition, the lights, the fans. You’re completely focused. It seems natural.”
“It is natural. I love football. I hate this stuff.” I thumped my hand on the textbook and glowered.
“That’s okay. Not everyone likes it. And not everyone is a leader. We all have different strengths. The point is, you seem like the kind of guy who has no limits. You can do anything you want and be anything you choose to be. You’re lucky. Once you figure out how to channel that energy, you’re going to be unstoppable.”
I stared at him in surprise. I hadn’t expected that sort of speech on my behalf. Sure, I’d had coaches and teachers tell me I showed promise. But it felt different coming from Rory. It felt as though he saw a part of me that I’d forgotten. Something intrinsic that had nothing to do with my sport or my sexuality.