But Mason’s wrong. I don’t have it easy. He doesn’t remember how much he depended on me to make sure he broke the rushing record this year. He didn’t have a team to lead. He didn’t have multiple players waiting and hoping that my actions each game night didn’t screw up their chances at playing college ball someplace. He doesn’t have the parents I do and the expectations. Even the college coaches add pressure.
“I should probably go before your old man gets back. See ya down there.” Mason leaves without me even acknowledging him. He doesn’t know that his little chat, while I’m sure it helped him, did nothing for me. I just want someone to sit down with me and go over the pros and cons of each school. My father will only discuss Auburn and isn’t helping me make an informe
d decision.
I’m probably the only quarterback signing today that doesn’t have a clue about which school they’re picking. I’ve made no verbal commitments to any of the schools and right now I don’t even want to put my name down on the dotted line.
I want to run.
The lights are bright and blinding as I take a seat next to another top recruit. There are ten of us sitting at table, five on each side and we’re separated by a podium. We’re the top recruits of our senior class and we’re all about to make some team very happy and others very upset. But those teams will move on and hope their next pick will come forward and say they’ll play for them.
The Master of Ceremonies is full of joy and overly enthusiastic. This is like the pre-NFL draft, only we’re not about to make millions of dollars. At least we won’t, but the schools will definitely benefit financially from us.
Cameras start clicking and it’s then that I realize someone has chosen a school. I give the obligatory clap and wait for my name to be called. My dad is sitting in the crowd with his blue and orange colors on, waiting for me to make his right decision.
“Liam Westbury,” the commentator says my name. I stand and listen to him rattle off my stats earning some heaving clapping from the galley. Someone whistles and I smile knowing it’s Mason.
“Mr. Westbury, please tell us where we’ll be watching you play in the fall?”
I look out my dad who nods. It’s now or never, and in the next few seconds, I’ll be making a decision that will either make or break me. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and imagine my girl out there waiting for me to tell her where we’re going.
“This fall I’ll be playing along the side of my running back, Mason Powell, at the University of Texas. Hook ‘em horns,” I shout out to the crowd. I don’t know what came over me, but I feel good about my decision. Playing next to Mason for an additional four years is worth it. We can bring the girls to Texas with us, rent a place off campus and just live our lives.
I don’t chance a look at my dad. I know he’s beyond pissed. I mentally prepare myself for whatever he’s going to do to me. It won’t be pretty. I may need to call the Prestons tonight and ask if I can move in because I’m fairly certain that Sterling Westbury is going to kick me out of the house.
I just chose the one school that was at the bottom of my list and that’s completely unheard of. I sit back down as a hush rolls over the crowd. I chance a look at the Texas coach. He’s stunned and when he makes eye contact with me I see nothing but pure elation. I don’t have a clue what my role will be there, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to school with my best friend and right now that seems more important than anything.
The last kid commits and we’re all ushered off the stage. I want to hide, but it’ll be no use. Sterling’s going to have my ass no matter what. I mingle, waiting for my dad to get backstage. I don’t even want to know what he’s talking to his buddy Hal about. If I was to guess he’s devising a plan to make everything null and void and forge my name for Auburn. Knowing Sterling, he’s writing a check to make sure today never happened.
“Liam,” he commands sternly. I don’t turn around to face him. I stand still and wait. He won’t make a scene, not in front of all these other athletes, parents and alumni. “We need to talk. Now!” he growls into my ear. “If you’ll excuse us gentlemen we have some business to take care of.”
My dad all but pushes me out of the room and directs me into a conference room that isn’t being used. I jump when he slams the door. The wall shakes, not because of the force, but because of the flimsy material they use to make these rooms. Everyone’s going to hear what he says to me. I’ll never be able to face my peers or the coach from Texas again. He’ll know this wasn’t a school that we even considered.
“What the fuck are you thinking?”
How does one answer that question without sounding like an idiot? It’s not going to matter what I say, the answer is wrong. Either I wasn’t thinking or I was thinking with the wrong part of my brain.
“I was thinking that it’d be nice to play another four years with Mason.”
“Are you shitting me here, Liam? Because if so, this isn’t funny. University of Texas, really? Since when did they matter? When did they even move into the top five?”
I stand there listening to him. Right now he’s calm, but that won’t last I’m sure. He pushes my shoulder when I don’t answer.
“Answer me smart ass. I didn’t bust your balls since fucking pee-wee football so you could half ass it at some school that doesn’t deserve you.”
“Texas is a good program. They’re building.”
“They’re building?” he starts to pace, pulling at his already receding hair. “They’re building and what, you think you’re the answer? Are you going to help them build their program and then in five or six years when you’re gone they can win a national championship? Jesus Christ, Liam, do you ever fucking think with your head?”
“I was thinking with my heart!” I bellow out. “I was thinking that Mason and I have great chemistry on the field, and how easy that can transfer to a new school. I was thinking that I didn’t want to pick a fucking school today, and that I wish this shit would just all go away. I picked Texas because I’m going to have a friend there, someone familiar. Someone that is going to help me get through not having anyone around or being someplace that I don’t want to be. I don’t want to go to Auburn or Alabama or even Ole Miss. I don’t even want to play football anymore!” I yell at him causing him to step back. I cover my face in frustration and try to catch my breath.
Sterling pauses and fixes me with his steely gaze. “You’re unbelievable and completely selfish, Liam. This is not how I raised you.” With that he walks out, slamming the door.
Chapter 17
I had always wondered what it would be like to piss my dad off so severely that he’d never speak to me again. I accomplished that task satisfactorily and haven’t heard a word from him in months. In fact, family life in the Westbury household has pretty much ceased to exist. Dinner isn’t made. The TV isn’t turned on. I haven’t seen my mother in weeks. If this is their form of punishment, I don’t know whether I’m supposed to feel hurt or thankful that they’re aren’t trying to tear me down with my decision.
My decision to attend the University of Texas hasn’t been without complications. In the days after I made my choice, my father fielded call after call asking about my decision while I sat in his office, stoically, wondering if I had made the wrong decision. It didn’t matter if I did. I was going to Texas and there wasn’t anything I nor anyone else could do about it. Worse case, I transfer, but that will mean I’ll likely miss my freshman year. I can’t do that to Mason though. He’s excited that we’ll be taking the field together; at least I have his support if no one else’s.