Page 64 of Missed Notes (Rixon High 5)

“No way, Kandon.” Aaron scowled. “She wants you, bro. Time to step up and become a man.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I shrugged him off and stalked over to the treadmill. I needed to burn some energy.

I loaded a playlist on my phone and shoved my AirPods into my ears and picked a high intensity workout. The harder the better.

I was a fucking mess and the game was in less than two days. Coach was already riding my ass and the guys were concerned my head wasn’t in it.

But that was the thing—my head wasn’t in it. It was with the girl who kept shutting me out.

She’d told me to move on. To go on the date with Kacie and get on with my life. I couldn’t do it though. Even if she was hellbent on pushing me away, I wasn’t the kind of guy to mess around like that.

I liked sex, what eighteen-year-old guy didn’t? But I didn’t feel the need to sleep my way through senior year. Not when just being in Sofia’s orbit gave me a rush like nothing else.

I pumped my legs hard, hitting the incline with everything I had. My calves burned, my muscles zipping and popping as I went harder, faster. Cardio wasn’t usually my thing, but I needed it today. I felt like a pop bottle ready to burst.

Sofia had told me in no uncertain terms that it was never going to happen, and I got it. She had too much going on to worry about dating and boyfriends and relationships. But we were friends first. And friends stood by each other when things got tough.

If only she’d—

My cell phone started ringing and I frowned at the name on the screen. Forcing the program to pause, I slowed my pace to a gentle jog and then a fast walk, until I’d regained my breath.

The call ended and I breathed a sigh of relief. But a second later, it started up again.

“Fuck,” I murmured, dragging a hand through my hair.

“Problem?” Aaron caught my eye.

“Just my old man.”

“You going to answer?”

“Yeah, or he won’t stop. I’ll be outside.” I hopped off the treadmill and stalked out of the room. “Hello?”

“Cole, good. I didn’t know if you would answer.”

“I’m supposed to be in conditioning.”

“I won’t keep you long. I just got off the phone with John Lomond at the Kline School of Law at Drexel. They’ve invited us to attend an alumni mixer. It would be a great opportunity to network.”

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?

“I…”

“Don’t get too excited, Son. Need I remind you that I’m an alumni and a substantial donor to the school?”

“I have a lot on my plate right now, Dad. The playoffs are—”

“Football is a hobby, Cole. It’s fleeting. It won’t secure you a financially comfortable future.”

Because of course all there was to life was security and money and status.

“I can’t do this right now, Dad. I have to go.”

“I expect you to attend, Cole. Your attitude lately is—”

I hung up, anger skittering through me. “Fuck,” I groaned, kicking the ground with my sneaker. “Fuck.”

A blast of pain shot through my ankle.

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