Page 128 of The Jack*ss in Class

“What can I say?” I managed, finding my voice, even if it sounded hollow in my head. “Their defense is?—”

“Horseshit compared to ours,” Chris cut in, but he was grinning as he pulled me into a crushing hug. “Congratulations, little brother. You better bring it on game day, kid. Don’t you pull any punches with me. If you don’t at least try to take me down, I’ll kick your ass.”

Jules launched herself at me, nearly sending us both toppling. “We’re going to LA,” she shrieked, as if she were the one who’d been drafted. “Do you know how many celebrities I’ll meet?”

“Flynn, Gryff, how about putting on the hats and jerseys?” The Sports Network reporter appeared at my elbow, holding out the Bandits gear that had been handed to her. “We’d love to get the official shot of you two in your new colors.”

My hands moved automatically, taking the jersey, black and silver, and sliding it over my head. Smile for the camera. Answer the questions. Yes, it’s a dream come true. Yes, Gryff and I always hoped to play together. No, I hadn’t expected the Bandits to trade up. Yes, we’re excited for LA.

But underneath it all, a cold knot was tightening in my chest.

I felt Tempest’s gaze on me, saw the slight furrow of concern between her brows. Across the room, Gryff laughed at something Dec said, but his eyes kept darting to me, that twin awareness telling him something was off.

The cameras kept rolling. I kept smiling. There was a hollowness to it all that I couldn’t explain, couldn’t understand. This was everything I’d worked for. Everything we’d dreamed about. Why did it feel like I was drowning?

It was nearly an hour before the main broadcast wrapped. The cameras still rolled, capturing B-roll of the family celebration, but the intensity had dimmed. Life continued around me while I stood in the middle of it all, strangely detached.

“You need some air, son?”

Dad appeared beside me, his expression carefully neutral. But his eyes—they saw right through me.

“I’m good,” I said automatically. The same answer I’d been giving for hours.

“Sure you are.” His hand settled on my shoulder, grounding in its weight. “Come help me grab some drinks from the garage fridge.”

It wasn’t a request. I followed him through the kitchen and into the garage, away from the cameras, away from the celebration. The door closed behind us with a soft click.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Dad asked, leaning against the workbench, making no move toward the fridge.

“Nothing’s going on.” The deflection was instinctive. “I just got drafted. I’m moving to LA. Woo hoo.”

“Flynn.” Just my name, but the way he said it stripped away all pretenses. “You don’t have to move to LA, or even play football at all if you really don’t want to. I don’t think that’s what this is about though, is it?”

I ran a hand through my hair, dislodging the Bandits cap. “I don’t know. I should be thrilled, right? First round. LA. Playing with Gryff. It’s everything we wanted.”

“But?”

“I know it’s stupid,” I continued when the silence grew too heavy. “Guys get drafted all over the country. That’s the job. That’s the dream. I just didn’t expect to feel so...”

“Scared?”

The word hit like a tackle, knocking the wind out of me. But he was right. I was scared. Terrified, actually.

“Dad, I—” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard.

“You can’t help thinking that leaving will break something,” Dad finished for me. “That you won’t be here if something happens. That you’ll miss parts of their lives you can’t get back.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

Dad moved to the mini fridge, pulled out two waters, and handed me one. A strange mirror of countless post-practice moments throughout my childhood.

“You were six when your mother died,” he said, his voice steady despite the weight of the words. “Old enough to remember, too young to understand.”

I stared at the water bottle, unseeing. I hadn’t said anything about her. The night those policemen knocked on our doors and we found out she was never coming home. That was the last time I remembered really being scared.

This wasn’t about Mom.

But she had left us and it did break something. She wasn’t here when things happened. She did miss a part of our lives, and we would never get that back.

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