Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Holden pulled his hand back. “Oh, we’re not—”
“Ten bucks?” I interrupted.
Geraldine looked at Holden, then at me, a knowing grin spreading on her weathered face as she winked at me.
“Deal.”
Holden
“Whose house?!”
“Our house!”
“Whose house?!”
“Our house!”
Clay was a beast as he stalked around the locker room, grabbing players by their face masks as he chanted. The energy in the room rose each time he did, every reply shouted louder and louder. Leo bounced on his toes, murmuring to himself as he smacked his helmet and hyped himself up. Riley was silent, her eyes a little dazed where she stared off into space, and Zeke stood beside her, nodding like he was listening to music, like the beat was thumping through his veins.
I watched from where I sat on the bench in front of my locker, elbows on my knees and hands clasped in the middle. Blake Russo glanced at me, the nerves evident in his eyes when he did. I gave him a simple nod, a look that told him he could do this.
I shoved down the part of me that wished he’d fail, that longed for the day when I’d rip back the title of QB1.
We needed this win. We needed every win we could get to earn our place at the championship game.
As if he was reading my mind, Coach Lee caught my gaze from where he was huddled with Coach Hoover in the corner, the two of them muttering to each other behind the barrier of their clipboards. He paused the conversation, giving me a look that told me he wanted to see me step up, get the team pumped, get them ready.
Injured or not, I was still captain.
I had the responsibility even if I didn’t have the reward.
Blowing out a breath, I stood, making my way to the center of the room before I closed the lid of a cooler and climbed on top of it. I didn’t have to whistle or cheer or clap my hands to get anyone’s attention. One by one, my teammates turned toward me, quieting as they did.
“This is a big one,” I started, and I felt the truth of that bearing down on my chest like an anvil. “The Lions are tough. They’re going to test you, all of you. They have a team full of players just like you, who want the same thing as you want.”
I locked eyes with a few players, who swallowed, nodding.
“Which means you have to prove you want it more.”
“Whose house?!” Clay yelled from the back.
“Our house!” the team chanted back.
“Our house,” I echoed, slamming my fist into my chest. “Our field. Our fans. Our win.” I scanned the room, locking eyes with each player. “I don’t want you to think about the championship game, or a bowl game, or any other game other than the one right here, right now. Focus — that’s what will get this win. One play at a time. Be smart,” I told them, tapping the side of my temple. “Be patient. Be confident. They may push, but we push back harder.”
There was a roar of agreement, and then I nodded at Clay, hopping down to let him take over in leading the team in a chant. I threw one arm around Blake and the other around Riley as we all bounced as a team, the energy in the room swelling to the point of combusting.
My heart felt the same where it beat against the bones of my rib cage.
Something was off, even as I encouraged my teammates and followed them out onto the field like I had every game since I’d been injured, I didn’t feel the same. I was only half here, which was a feeling I wasn’t used to. On game days, my focus was always solely on football.
But today, Julep swam in the back of my mind.
As the team ran through the tunnel and out onto the field, I jogged behind.
And I caught her gaze as I passed.
Those dark eyes didn’t leave mine, and time seemed to hesitate, my breath long and slow, legs delayed as if I were running underwater. She held my stare even as I passed her, and I watched her as I did, turning back over my shoulder until I had no choice but to face forward again.
When I did, I nearly slammed into Coach Lee.
His hands shot out to stop me before I could, careful to avoid my shoulder, and then he paused there with me in his grip. He looked behind me at his daughter, then turned that glare down to me.
He didn’t have to say a word for me to know what he was thinking.
We won.
We won, and I tried to be happy.
We won, and I tried to remind myself it was a good thing.
But my pride was bruised and beaten, angry and tired of being ignored — and it wasn’t going to let me skate by any longer without it going noticed.