Page 58 of Broken Ties (Rixon High 4)

“Out. What do you mean you’re going out?” Mom said, disappointment twinkling in her eyes. “We need to talk about this.”

“Your mom is right, Aaron. We need—”

I didn’t wait around to hear the rest of it. I needed some fresh air. I couldn’t breathe under the weight of everything. My crushing disappointment, Coach’s hesitation last night, my parents Plan B for when my dream inevitably went up in smoke.

“What’s the matter?” Sofia hit the bottom stair just as I was heading for the front door.

“I’m going out.”

“Aaron, wait. Did something happen?”

“Ask them.” I flicked my head down the hall.

“I’ll come with you. We can—”

“I need some space. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you’re disappointed about Pittsburgh.”

“Let me guess, Poppy told you.”

“No, actually. I overheard Mom and Dad talking.” Her expression dropped. “You could have told me.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“You also don’t have to be such an asshole about things,” she huffed.

“Shit, Sis.” Guilt punched through me. “I’m sorry, okay. Things are such a fucking mess.”

“I get it. You really wanted to be a Panther.”

“Yeah. But it doesn’t matter now.” I moved toward the door.

“I know football means a lot to you, Aaron. But you are so much more than that.”

Glancing back at her, I frowned. “Whatever. You wouldn’t understand.”

And then I got the hell out of there.

I couldn’t drive so I had to settle for walking. But the fresh air was probably a good thing. It cleared my head a little, and allowed me to see the bigger picture.

And the fact of the matter was, everyone was right: Coach Ford, Mom, Dad, Ezra, Sofia. It was just a game. But it had always felt like so much more to me.

I could still remember the first time my dad dropped a ball in my hands and made me hike it to him. We’d played for hours in the backyard, passing and running with the ball. Dad hadn’t pursued a career in football after college, not like Coach Ford, but he could have. He’d played for the Temple Owls and had four seasons of college ball, resulting in one national championship.

I’d grown up with their stories, the highs and lows and adventures. They had planted a fire in my chest, one that only burned brighter as I grew. I wanted it but it was apparent that I’d have to work hard for it. I didn’t have the speed or throwing arm required for most offensive positions but offense was where I wanted to be. Center seemed like the logical position for me and I thrived in it.

But I was only a three-star recruit. By his junior year, Coach Ford had been a five-star recruit, and my dad and Cameron were both four-star recruits. It could have been worse, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Pittsburgh, and probably not for Connecticut or Iowa.

Fuck.

I kicked the gravel with my sneaker. I’d walked toward downtown, taking the path along the river. But I avoided Riverside as too many kids from school would be there, and I didn’t feel like socializing.

Instead, I shoved a piece of gum in my mouth and kept walking until I was in the bustling streets downtown. A few people waved or greeted me. I was Asher Bennet’s son and a Raider. That meant something to the people of Rixon.

“Go get ’em, Raiders,” someone yelled across the street and my lip quirked. There wasn’t a single soul in the whole town who didn’t support us during football season.

That was small-town life for you. Everyone knew everything about everybody. But none more than they knew about the high school football team.

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