“Ah, of course. The Tulliver High Tigers, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well good luck, and listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you something…”
My heart lurched into my throat.
“Paul is out. It’s a long story but he had to walk. We have a gig next weekend, and since you already know all our material, I was thinking—”
“Come on, J, you know I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Seems pretty simple to me.” He shrugged. You either want to do us a solid and play with us again, or you don’t.”
Disappointment flared in his eyes when I didn’t answer. “I see. Well, thanks for nothing, Kandon.” He stalked off before I could try to explain.
Fuck.
It had killed me to quit the band, but I couldn’t make it work alongside playing football. And football meant possible scholarships; scholarships I might need one day if my old man decided to withdraw my tuition.
But now I had the scholarship offers and I still wasn’t any closer to making a decision.
Because the decision was bigger than just me.
* * *
By the timewe reached Pittsburgh, my mood was in the fucking trash.
“Seriously, man, you need to pull yourself out of it,” Aaron grumbled right as Tulliver High Stadium came into view.
It wasn’t as impressive as Dawson Stadium, but it was still pretty sweet.
“Got just the cure for that,” Dylan, one of our safeties, shoved his head over the seat and grinned. “Fresh pussy.”
“Nah, it’s all about the steady pussy. I’m telling you, Dyl, there’s nothing like fucking your girl—”
“Bennet,” Coach Ford looked from the front of the bus.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“Word of advice, son. It’s a small bus, voices carry.”
“Fuck”, Aaron muttered under his breath, heat creeping into his cheeks as our section of the bus exploded with laughter.
“Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What?” Aaron balked. “I didn’t know he could hear me.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “You’re an asshole.”
“Sounds like someone is jealous if you ask me.”
“No one did ask you, Dylan, so keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Shit, Kandon, I’m just busting your balls.”