Page 10 of Keep Me Never
Looking away, I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth. “Still working that out.”
“How many more responses are you waiting on?”
“One, but Mrs. Fredrick”—I mention the adviser he hooked me up with last year when shit first hit the fan—“said that one was the least likely to be approved, so not betting on it either.”
Coach Rogan nods, taking all this information in before leaning forward on his forearms. “Okay, so we know where we are with all that, then.”
“Yes, Coach. Right in the middle of shit creek.”
The man chuckles, and despite the literal dumpster fire that has become my life, my lips twitch. “Listen, Chase. I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t get discouraged, because the good that seems to have come out of this is your improvement on the field.” He holds my gaze strong. “You came back a different man, son. If your helmet were on and you weren’t out there with the last name Harper and the number thirteen on your jersey, my eyes would be glued to you, and I’d be asking every person I could find who the hell you were and how I could get you on my roster. You were good, really good, in fact, but I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re on the path of becoming great. You are aware you’re a top-five-ranked receiver across the nation, right?”
I avert my gaze, a tightness winding in my gut. “Yes, sir.”
“Chase.” He waits until I look his way, a knowing look in his eyes. “You should be proud of the work you’ve done. This is ahuge accomplishment. You weren’t even on the board last year, and you’re top five just three weeks into the season.”
“Mason is a great quarterback, Coach. He always gets the ball where it needs to go.”
“And none of that would matter if he didn’t have a receiver he could trust.”
“It’s a team effort.”
“Chase,” he snaps. “Accept the damn achievement.”
A low chuckle leaves me, and I shake my head, pulling a deep breath. “Trust me, I’m trying but it’s tough. I don’t want to get complacent. Ican’tget complacent. As you said, the season has only begun. A lot could happen in the next ten weeks.”
He knows what I’m saying without saying it—that this is my only chance.
That if I don’t do the nearly impossible and beat out thousands of receivers across the league, earning myself a spot in next year’s NFL draft—a less than 2 percent chance—then I’ll be a washout. The last three years of my life—last decade, really, if you count all the hard work from youth and high school football days, let alone academics—to get here will have all been for nothing.
After this semester, I’m cooked. Done.
If my name isn’t called come draft day, I’ll have nothing in my life that’s worth a damn.
Maybe then karma will pull its claws from my chest.
Then again, maybe not.
Maybe this is the consequence of that yellow brick road. The result of the U-turn I took, back to the point of the split, choosing the opposite path in the end, the one that not only hurt the girl I never should have allowed myself to get close to but also hurt my best friend.
It’s like I said to Coach: A lot can happen in a single season.
Maybe even more than I’m prepared for.
CHAPTER FOUR
Chase
Game days. The only time of the week when my mind actually frees itself from the day-to-day stress. You’d think the pressure to perform would mess with my head even more, but it’s the opposite. Out here, I can let everything else go. Out here, I have a purpose. I’m needed, helpful.
Out here, I’ve never let anyone down and my teammates know, without a single doubt, that they can count on me.
The practices leading up to this hour are about perfecting my routes, memorizing and executing them with precision, proving to my quarterback that I am an asset he can depend on. It doesn’t matter that I’m the same man who disappointed him off the field because he knows he can depend on me out here.
This is the only place where someone else’s decision can’t control me. Sure, I don’t call the plays or decide where the ball is thrown in the end, but none of that matters. The moment my cleats hit the green—hell, the moment I step out of the locker room—the energetic crowd in the stadium above loud in my ears, I’m fucking free.
It’s just me and the work that needs done.
Out here on this field, with the lights bright above and the excitement in the air, my life is in my own hands. I have the control. It’s up tome, sink or swim.
