Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
From anyone.
Fortunately, the door swings open before I can even answer the question, and the most fashionable twelve-year-old in the city sails in.
“Hey, bug,” Elodie says, her mama voice on. Her parents died a year ago, making Elodie a single mom of sorts to her much younger sister.
“Hey, Els,” her sister says as her bracelets jingle on her arms. She wears a crocheted top, baggy jeans, cuffed twice, and white Converse sneakers that she’s drawn some sort of elaborate sketch on.
“Hi Rachel. Hi Juliet,” she says to my sister and me, then tilts her head to the side, meeting my gaze. “Can we play Halo at your parents’ house?”
I laugh. “Of course. Sawyer will be there too. He’s back in town for the weekend. He loves Halo.”
“I’ll beat him,” Amanda says, then heads straight for her room.
“Her confidence is such an issue,” Juliet says dryly.
“Yeah, you need to work on that,” I say, then I touch Elodie’s arm. “But she’s doing okay, otherwise?”
Elodie nods. “Most of the time,” she says.
Most of the time seems like a good target these days given what she’s been through.
When we arrive at my parents’, my brother’s already there, swinging open the door. After he lets in Elodie and Amanda, he stops at Juliet and me. Like he’s a sentry, weighing our admission.
“Well, if it isn’t my troublemaking sisters,” he says.
“Right, right. As if we’re the bad ones,” Juliet says.
His dark eyes narrow at us. “Speaking of trouble, any new guys in your life who I need to beat up?”
“No one,” I say with a roll of my eyes at his usual big-brother-type question.
Juliet scoffs at him. “As if I’d tell you anyway.”
I head inside and say hi to my parents, grateful to spend time with family. Days like these are why I moved back to San Francisco.
To help Mom and Dad in the kitchen as they make lunch. To catch up on their lives. To give my brother a hard time about anything and everything. To enjoy Sawyer and Amanda playing video games.
It’s only slightly odd at the dinner table when my mom asks how Carter is.
“Great,” I chirp, then take a bite of the salad to shut myself up. So I don’t say I can’t wait to go to his game tomorrow. I can’t wait for our un-date on Monday. And I really, truly can’t wait for him to come over after the un-date.
With an inquisitive look, my brother clears his throat. “Nice scarf. Did you get cut with a plastic red Solo cup?”
22
WIN SOME, LOSE SOME
Carter
“Number eighty-eight…at wide receiver. Carter Hendrix!” The familiar voice of the Renegades announcer warbles as I trot onto the field from the tunnel, giving a wave to the hometown crowd.
The cheers are beautifully deafening. Like a dose of natural medicine right before a game. As I run past my teammates, I smack palms with them, amped up from the crowd, and from the sheer excitement of playing a game for a living in front of the best fans ever.
When I reach the end of the line, the final player’s name is announced—the guy we all depend on to lead our team.
“Your starting quarterback at number nine…Beck Cafferty.”
The steely-eyed missile man was traded to our team a couple years ago right after my first Big Game win, and we are the luckiest dogs in the world, since Cafferty took us to the Big Game in his first year.
Too bad we haven’t gone back since. I hate to be greedy—actually, scratch that, I love being greedy in this game—but I’d sure as hell like to be the last team standing come February.
Three rings would work for me, thank you very much.
Our record is solid this season so far, though not stellar. Anything can happen, but I want to march through the rest of the season like we own it. To show our fans and the whole football world why we won two in a row a couple years ago.
After the coin toss, I jog to the sidelines with Hamlin, glancing at the fifty-yard line as I go.
Okay, it’s more than a glance.
It’s maybe a long, hungry stare as I hunt for Rachel. There she is with some of the crew—Monroe’s here, along with Rachel’s sister, and that’s Rachel’s brother next to him. They’re all buds, and Rachel mentioned Sawyer was back in town. My parents are here too. They usually are for home games. But my gaze stays on the woman I’ll see tomorrow night. She looks good in the stands, showing up for me.
Damn good.
Hamlin smacks my arm, snapping me out of it. “Aww, got some fans today, Hendrix? Miracles do happen,” he deadpans.
“That’s true. Every now and then you nab a first down,” I say, then we get to work.
Down by two. Less than a minute and a half left in the game. Third and long. I’m in the huddle as Cafferty calls the play. With a quick nod, I get in position, and I’m in motion at the snap.