“Listen, I know you’re going through a hard time. Finding out all that stuff about your life, about your dad, it must be tough. But you—”
“You know?” I ask, gobsmacked.
“Yeah, I know everything about my boys, and that includes you. James called me… warned me, should I say.”
“Great,” I scoff.
“Look, I know you’re angry. I get it. Having your world flipped upside down is hard. But I need you to channel that anger into the game. Use it as an advantage, not a way to sabotage your chance at a future.”
“I don’t need to tell you that you fucked up today. You know that already, you’re a bright kid. But I need you to think seriously about this. If football is what you want for your future, then you really need to consider how you’re going to act going forward. Scouts aren’t going to be impressed by you beating the shit out of your opponent.”
“Now, that’s enough from me. Tell me what’s going on in there.” His chin lifts to me and I cross my arms over my chest.
If he thinks I’m going to talk about my feelings and shit, he needs to think again.
The silence is heavy as we stare at each other, but there’s no way it’ll break me.
The ruckus from the team on the other side of the door filters through, and eventually, Coach caves.
“Fine. But if you ever change your mind. I’m right here.” He pushes his chair out behind him and walks to the door. “I suggest you go and celebrate with the rest of the team tonight. Blow off some steam. I want you to walk back in here Monday morning with a fresh head on your shoulders.”
I nod at him, wondering if any of that is even a possibility, before he slips from the room.
It’s long seconds after he’s left that his words hit me. Celebrate? We won?
I stay where I am until the excitement from the locker room has died out and I consider it safe to escape. I don’t intend on following Coach’s orders and heading to our new captain’s house to party tonight. I don’t want to be with people, especially those who’ll expect me to get involved when all I want to do is hide and drown in my own misery and bullshit life.
However, those plans are shot to shit when I walk out of the office and find two guys waiting for me.
“We thought you’d decided to move in there, Jag.”
I don’t respond. Instead I keep moving with the intentions of walking straight past them. They have other ideas however and stand, blocking my exit.
“Get out of my fucking way.”
“No fucking chance. We’ve got a party to attend.”
“Great, off you fucking go then.”
“Nah, man. Not without you.”
I narrow my eyes at the two of them. What kind of game are they playing?
“Grab your shit,” Hayden instructs.
“I’ve got a shit load of booze waiting and more pussy than you know what to do with,” Aaron adds.
I refrain from pointing out that a few Sterling Prep sluts isn’t exactly more pussy than I can handle after living in the Heights. Instead, the lure of booze means I follow them out to the parking lot.
I’m glad I do, because one look around and I don’t see my car or Conner or Ace anywhere, motherfuckers.
I don’t say anything as I climb in the back of Aaron’s car, but I keep my eyes on both of them, trying to work out what they’re up to.
Not ten minutes later, we’re in a part of town I haven’t explored before and pulling up to yet another fancy house with kids littering the yard.
I guess this is the Garrick house, then.
“Come on, I stashed the good stuff so the others wouldn’t find it.”