Page 25 of Game On
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hudson
My room, usually a sanctuary, feels more like a prison cell as I pore over my personal statement. Each new sentence is a shovel digging up parts of my past I’ve buried deep over the years. Truths about my family, my upbringing, that I’d rather not think about.
Sourdough is lounging at the foot of my bed, seemingly unaffected by my turmoil. I suppose he’s used to my unique brand of drama. And having him here with me, that’s at least a small comfort.
I read over the sentence about the night my father left, the echo of the door slamming shut still loud in my memory. I pause, fingers hovering over the keys, and I can almost smell the smoke from the fire that claimed our family home. The screen blurs, a tightness in my chest reminding me that some wounds are stitched together but never fully heal.
A knock shatters the silence before Levi barges into my room. “Hey, buddy ol’ pal, what are you doing?” he asks, histone too cheerful for my current mood. Sourdough lifts his head, eyeing him warily.
“Working,” I grunt.
He saunters in, unfazed by my curt response. “On what?”
“What do you think?”
The moment he walked in, my walls snapped back into place. I was on the verge of feeling something, letting my guard down long enough to process the past—but Levi’s interruption has pulled me right back into the role I play for everyone else.
The guy who’s got his shit together. Who doesn’t let anyone see what’s really going on inside.
“Applications again?” He leans against the wall, casually flipping a pen between his fingers. “Which circle of academic hell are we contemplating today?
“The one that gets me accepted.” I sigh, glancing over at him. “Most of the apps are due early December. I need extra time for funding and assistantships.”
Sourdough jumps off the bed and pads over to Levi, demanding his attention. “So, they’re due in …three and a halfmonths?”
“Good math, bud.” I rub my temples, a headache building. “You don’t get it. I’m working on ten different versions of a personal statement tailored to each fucking school. That takes time.”
“How boring.”
He’s right, of course, and it’s a fact that pisses me off even more. But that’s Levi for you—straightforward, unfazed byeverything that doesn’t directly involve a football or a clear path downfield. His ability to lighten the mood, no matter how dark the room, is one of the reasons we clicked almost instantly.
Our freshman year, we were thrown together by a shared dream and a relentless drive to make something of ourselves. Levi, with his laser-focused ambition of going pro as a receiver, has always had this unshakable belief in the future he wants.
And me? I’m the quarterback who’s always had one eye on the field and the other on the life that stretches beyond it. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove I’m more than just my dad’s legacy. More than the pressure that comes with it. Football’s always been the easy part. It’s the other stuff—the expectations, the constant need to prove my worth—that makes me shut people out.
But that’s what works in my dynamic with Levi. We thrive on this balance. He pushes me to stay present, rooted in the moment, while I draw his attention to the world outside the end zone.
“Right,” I scoff. “And Oxford’s app is actually due mid-November, so—”
“Oxford, eh?” he interjects with a smirk. “This obsession with Ella has really got to stop, man.”
“Okay, get out,” I snap, the last of my patience fraying. Sourdough meows in agreement.
“Aw, come on,” he says with a sly grin. “I know you two already had ‘the talk,’ but it’s time for you to move on.”
I told him about Ella confronting me, and the man can’tseem to let it go. He likes to rib me, to stir the pot just to see what boils over. But deep down, we both know that my involvement with Ella, if it can even be called that, was nothing more than a blip on the radar. Despite the fact he’s determined to turn the situation into a running joke.
My chin tips toward the door. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Well, did you know they’re back from camp already?” he asks, blatantly ignoring me.
“Why would I care?”
He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Because I’m gonna go hang out with Sam and Gabs, and …whoever else she might bring along. I thought you’d be interested.”
“Since when are you and Gabi so tight?”
