Page 87 of The Midseason Fakeout

I shrug. “It’s not really with Warner, I guess. They want her to go to this other school, and before you say she should be able to go to where she wants, in theory, that makes sense, but she has this thing about letting her parents down.” Plus, her parents holding the purse strings. That can’t be easy. “It’s different from our parents. We got scholarships, and we’re football players, but not everyone is like us. Her situation is different.”

“I get that,” West says. “Did you see that video about the player who committed to Florida and his mom walked out of the press conference because she wanted him to go to Bama?”

“Copeland? Yeah. It’s fucked up.”

“Parents should be supportive.” His own history marks his face, and out of all things, I know West gets it more than others.

I run my hands down my face. “I don’t know how I can have everything. And what will happen to football if she decides to take off?”

“Football is a crutch for guys like us. We use it as an excuse for everything. It’s serious, especially when you’re talking about our long-term goals. It’s fucking scary. But around all that, life is still happening. We could get hurt tomorrow—”

“Jesus, don’t fucking say that.”

“It’s true. That’s what I’m saying. We have this mentality of all of our eggs in one basket. The fucking pressure,” West grinds out.

I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels it. When I first started for Warner, I had all this anxiety to be as good as Reid. Being the quarterback, it’s like putting the whole team on your back and carrying them. “Are you trying to talk me into Bailey? Or out of Bailey? I can’t tell.”

“I’m saying you should treat football and your relationship separately. As much as it’s amazing that Kenna is there for me with football, if football went away tomorrow, I’d still have Kenna, and that’s…” He takes a deep breath. “That means a lot to me. With her, it might feel like shit would be bearable. She’d tell me to get over myself, and I would. Eventually. I mean, I’d be a crybaby at first, but eventually I could function.”

“I don’t know why it feels like I can’t have both. Like somehow, if things are going well with Bailey, football will suffer—like with the stupid stunt tonight.”

“It’s because it’s raw.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil.”

“What I mean is, everything worked out. No one got hurt. You didn’t get arrested. Coach won’t find out. Bailey’s parents aren’t aware. Literally, nothing happened. You’re scared of a what-if. It’s your job to now make sure that what-if never happens.”

Shit. That was profound. I sit up straight. “You’re like a relationship guru, man.”

“I am pretty good at it. I mean, I did bag the prettiest girl on campus.”

I smirk. I’m going to let him have this one because he just helped me. A lot.

“Tell Bailey about your fears. It’s better that way. Don’t make the mistake I did and pull away. Especially if you think she’s the one.”

I blow out a breath, exhaling all my nerves. Aside from my parents, I’ve never truly talked with anyone who wasn’t a therapist about my adoption-related struggles.

When I started football, it seemed unnecessary.

But they’re there still. Obviously.

“Want to drop me at Bailey’s?”

West grunts in response, turning the truck around.

I might as well lay it all out for her.

24

BAILEY

I stare downat the texts that just came through from my mother. My stomach plunges. She wants to talk. She wants to come to Warner tomorrow.

This is bullshit.

I march out of my room and up the stairs. Darrin is playing a video game with headphones on, and when he sees me standing at the entrance to his room, he slips them off.

I hold the phone out to him and march forward. “Did you get texts from Mom?”

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