Page 27 of Keep Me Never
CHAPTER EIGHT
Chase
There’s nothing like back-to-back home games to keep the momentum going, especially when the team we’re playing is one we’ve dominated for five seasons. Today will be no different and they know it. They showed up to lose, and lose they will, but I know they’ll at least put up a bit of a fight. It’s not that their players are bad, but their coaching staff sucks and their quarterback is an arrogant prick who doesn’t have the respect of his team. That alone will lose them many games this season.
Growing up, my mom used to silently root for the underdog, even when it wasn’t us. She’d feel bad when we’d face a team that didn’t score a single touchdown while we popped off with many. I used to think it was sweet, an endearing quality from a mom who knew what it was like to see her kid’s team mourning a loss.
Now I wonder if that was all part of her facade. Fake sympathy. Fake happiness.
Fake love.
I’m never getting fucking married.
“Dude.” Brady elbows me and I snap out of my thoughts, looking his way. He jerks his head to the left and I find Coach glaring at me.
Shit.
Did my professor finally tell him I was kicked out of class for “cheating”?
How do I explain that I wasn’t? Will he even believe me if I try?
I blow air out of my cheeks as I jog over, and the crease between his brows only deepens. “Coach?”
“I called your name three times. Where’s your head at?”
“I’m good, Coach.”
“No, you’re not.”This is when he tells me I’m fucked.“Take a minute. Helmet off, get some water. Ten minutes to game time. I don’t need to tell you this is a good opportunity for you to shine. Yards, yards, yards. Understood?”
My relief is instant. “Yes, Coach.”
“Go.”
I unclick my chin strap and tug my helmet off, surprised by how much I’m sweating already.
Good. If Professor Michaels didn’t say anything by now, I think it’s safe to say he won’t.
One less thing to worry about.
I drop my helmet to the turf at my feet and take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. I snag a water bottle and close my eyes, wetting my head and face before pulling in a light breath.
If it weren’t for my mom, my dad would be here right now, sitting beside Mason’s and Brady’s dads. He wouldn’t be stuck at home, wishing he could come watch. The single most important thing to that man, if you asked him at any point in my life, has always been being there for me. And now he can’t be because the woman who was supposed to love him, loveme, ruined everything.
To my horror, pressure builds behind my eyes, but I clench my jaw to force it back.
I’ll fix this for us, Dad. Give you back everything you’ve lost.
Fuck, I’m supposed to be calming myself, getting in the game, and I was perfect. I’m always good when I hit the field, but looking in the stands and seeing the parents of my best friends, their proud smiles staring back at all three of us… I don’t know, man. This is the first game they’ve been able to come to this year, and it’s messing with me.
Come on, Chase. Don’t fuck this up. Get a grip. Fucking focus?—
A sharp whistle catches my attention, and my head snaps up.
Somehow, it knows right where to go—sixty-yard line, four or five rows up.
I lock onto a dark-blue sundress and long blond hair, both her pinkies stuck in the edge of her lips.
How could such a tiny thing make such a piercing sound?
