Page 73 of Enemies Off Camera
Game Day
I’m not going to lie—it’s been tough.
Not one, not two, not even three—butfourbeautifully thrown passes have gone straight through my hands.
Coach has benched me. It’s the right call. I’m winded. I’m slow. My head’s not in the game.
I was afraid this might happen. But it’s not Zara’s fault—it’s mine. I didn’t ground myself since Thursday morning. I didn’t run my sprints. Didn’t go through my drills. And now, I’m paying for it.
But there’s something else, too—something I can’t name. I’m playing more cautiously than usual. And I don’t understand why.
“You’re playing like shit,” Jake says, flopping down next to me on the bench.
“If that’s all you came over here to say, then get the hell up and go back to where you were.” I’m in no mood for one of his passive-aggressive Zara comments. He’s had it out for her since day one.
“And so are you, by the way,” I add. “They’re handling you like a ragdoll.”
“Ha,” he scoffs, spitting aggressively on the grass. “Don’t do that to me, man. We’re down by fourteen, and we rely on your consistency to win. You know that.”
I clench my jaw. He’s not wrong.
He pats my arm. “Get it together. Figure it out. But I’m not sure if it’s the actress or the runner-up. Look.”
He nods up toward the stands.
I look.
And I freeze.
Ashley.
What the hell isAshleydoing here?
And then, like some kind of twisted magic trick, the Jumbotron lights up with a side-by-side of me and her. Overhead text reads:
THE FINAL PLAY
What the actual fuck?
“Look at you, Jax,” Roland Tucks shouts, running backward to line up. “All the baddies came out to see you.”
I flip him off.
“Get your head in the game!” he yells back.
I stare a second longer, stunned. Ashley’s presence here is like a glitch in the simulation. Shecouldbe stalking me. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done that. Butthis?The Jumbotron graphic?
Someone set this up.
Before I can unpack it, the announcer calls: “3rd and 8.”
Our defense has been holding the line hard—if it weren’t for them, we’d already have an “L” next to our name.
“Jax in!” Coach shouts.
I shoot to my feet. I know exactly what I need to do.
Play to the same level as our defense. Forget about Ashley. Stop craving Zara. Shut the noise out, and do my damn job.
