Page 65 of Breaking Rules
Chapter Eighteen
TRAIN
Football practice had finished up, and I was jogging around the track, doing more laps than Coach had ordered. Four days had passed since I gave Montana swimming lessons. She wasn’t as bad at swimming as she’d made it sound. The fun part was making out while we were floating in the water. I’d wanted to take her back to my room, but I didn’t want to rush things. And if I were being honest, I was afraid to do more than kiss and grope because the minute I was inside her was the minute I would be a goner.
I checked my watch. I had about thirty minutes before I met Montana. She was in her tutoring session with Ferris. I wasn’t exactly pleased, but I couldn’t order her not to work with Ferris. I could tutor her, but we probably wouldn’t get any work done, and I had to trust her, though I was having a hard time. Besides, Ferris had the smarts to make valedictorian. I did as well, and I understood why Salvatore had partnered me up with Montana. He wanted me to help her since her grades were nothing to write home about.
The sun burned my back as I jogged the last lap. Then I slowed to a walk, regulating my breathing as I collected my football gear. When I started for the showers, I spotted my old man waving at me on the other side of the goalpost.
He slipped his hand into the pocket of his khakis. “I talked to the USC scout.”
My heart punched my ribs. “And?”
“He hasn’t said yes yet, but your scholarship looks promising. He wants to see how the next two or three games go.”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my T-shirt. “Is he hung up on something with me?” Maybe I wasn’t as sharp as I should have been. I’d also gotten sacked twice in the first game, although I’d played a great game last week.
Lines fanned out underneath his green eyes. “Nothing like that, son. Scouts just like to be sure, and the football coach wants to see the tapes of your games again. My advice is to play like you did last week.”
I had thrown four touchdowns and hadn’t gotten sacked. But we had six games left in the season.
“I got to run,” I said. “I’m meeting Montana. We’re having dinner with Mom.”
His tanned forehead creased. “You’re dating again?”
“Is that a problem?”
He fiddled with his car keys. “Don’t let your head wander from the game because of a girl. You know what happened last year with Nina.”
I couldn’t argue too much with him. Nina had driven me to drink many times last year. But Montana wasn’t Nina. Montana didn’t nag like Nina. Montana didn’t whine, either.
I clutched my helmet guard. “I got a handle on things.”
His tone was even. “I hope so, son. The USC scholarship is important, and I’m not bailing you out again. I’ve used all my favors with the USC sports director.”
My insides twisted into a knot. “You know, Dad, if anyone is going to screw with my head, it’s you. You ride my ass constantly about football. ‘You didn’t throw the ball right. You should’ve thrown the ball to so and so. You can’t make plays like that and expect the scouts to give you high marks.’” My voice was shaky.
He grabbed the back of his neck, one of the signs that I was hitting a nerve or he was getting pissed. But I wasn’t hanging around to get into a huge argument. A blowout fight with my dad would put me in a terrible mood, and I had a date with my mom and my girl, although it felt good to finally get that off my chest.
“I got to run. I need a shower before I meet Montana. I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.” I jogged up to the school and went directly to the showers, stewing over how a conversation with my old man could go from zero to sixty in two seconds flat. I understood that he was busting his ass to help me get that scholarship, but man, he wasn’t about to tell me who I could or could not date.
After I washed off the sweat and anger then dressed, I darted through the empty school halls. Montana had told me to meet her in the library. Before I went in, I glanced through the window above the door and stiffened. Ferris was way too close to my girl as he leaned in close to her, pointing to something in her notebook. I swallowed a lump in my throat as red coated my vision.Dude, don’t go ballistic. Your old man just warned you about girls and that football scholarship.
“Mr. Everly,” a deep baritone voice said from behind me. “Are you lurking?”
I spun around to find Principal Flynn heading toward me. “No, sir. Just waiting on Montana.”
He settled in front of me, his large gut protruding out while he loosened his tie. “Good. I’d planned on talking to her tomorrow, but since she’s here…”
My antenna went up. “Is something wrong?”
“Not sure. Do you know who could’ve painted your name on the locker room door?”
I thought that incident had blown over. It had happened two weeks ago. The graffiti had been cleaned, and word from Coach was that the administration had no suspects. “No, sir. Do you think Montana did it?”
He regarded me from his six eight height. “Do you know if she did?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer, when Montana came out of the library with Ferris. She swung her confused gaze from the principal to me. “What’s going on?”
