Page 94 of Redemption
It’s the third time this week, and I’ve had to cover for him with Coach every time.
Now, he’s escaped from our dorm and is on the quad. If anyone sees him like this, he can kiss football goodbye.
I thought he was getting better, but it turns out he’s only gotten better at hiding it.
Pulling my phone out, I send a quick message to the only person who can help.
Hayes:Meet me at the quad.
MJ:I have class.
Hayes:It’s for your brother.
I don’t bother waiting for a response.
She’ll show because it’s Langston, and I hate my best friend for that. He doesn’t realize what his sister does to protect him because she hopes one day he’ll snap out of whatever this is and be better.
But he’s slowly destroying her—and I have to sit back and watch it happen.
MJ and I are friends, but we walk a fine line. One wrong move and that tenuous friendship we’ve built will crack and crumble—especially when it comes to Langston. She willprotect him to her last breath, even if it means breaking herself, and no matter how many times I point out what she’s doing, she never listens. So, I’ve learned to keep quiet and help in ways I can, like making sure that Langston doesn’t get kicked off the team.
The quad is busy with other students milling about, and it will take a miracle to get Langston out of here without getting caught.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of fiery red hair and blow out a breath, thankful that MJ is here.
She’s a freshman in college now and even more off-limits than ever. Unfortunately, that doesn’t prevent me from noticing how beautiful she is whenever I’m around her.
“Dude, I looooveee you,” Langston slurs, leaning his whole body weight into me.
One problem at a time—focus on one problem at a time. Right now, that problem has to be getting Langston out of here before anybody reports this back to Coach.
“Stand up,” I hiss, shoving him so he’s standing upright. He wobbles a little, but thankfully, he stays on his feet. “We have to get you back to the dorm, and you need to sober up before practice tonight. What are you doing, Langston? You have to do better than this.”
Langston sobers a little when I scold him, glaring at me until his eyes cross, and he groans. “Yup, that’s me—always needing to do better.”
The way he says it—like he’s resigned himself to the idea that he will never be good enough—sends red alarms through my body.
“That’s not what I meant, man.”
But he just waves me away, unwilling to listen to anything else I have to say. I let him because it’s a conversation I would rather have with him when he’s sober.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing his arm and weaving us between the other students rushing off to class.
“How did this happen?” MJ hisses, finally close enough to help.
Langston turns, a dopey smile on his face when he sees his little sister, unaware of the pure venom in her eyes. She’s mad, and I don’t blame her.
Her eyes find me, and that anger flames higher.
“Why is he drunk on a Monday morning?” she asks, lowering her voice and stepping closer so I can hear her.
“That would probably be a good question for him when he’s sober,” I answer her through clenched teeth, mad about this whole situation. “Help me get him back to the dorm.
She turns her attention back to Langston, whose gaze is bouncing back and forth between us. The corners of her mouth turn down, a sadness crossing her face that breaks my heart.
“What are you doing, L?” From the resignation in her voice, I know she doesn’t expect an answer, but Langston pulls her in for a hug, lays his cheek against the top of her head, and says, “I don’t know, MJ—I really don’t know.”
Turning my head, I try to give the siblings a moment of privacy in the crowded quad, but when I do, I spy some of the other players heading this way. If we don’t get Langston out of here soon, he’s toast.
