He nods and hands me a sports drink before moving to Grey and Corey. We aren’t the only team in the league to start with three wide receivers, but it’s not standard practice, either. Lenny moves beside me.
“I told the guys we’re celebrating at your house tonight,” he says.
“What?”
“We’ll keep it small. Twenty people max.”
“My sister’s going to kill me.”
“We’ll give her the first pour from the keg.”
I shake my head, knowing I should say no, but the idea of a smaller event, where I know exactly where Hadley will be and avoid the antics that will follow us to a larger party is too damn attractive. “Invite Ethan.”
Lenny’s brow furrows. “Ethan James?”
I nod. “And keep it under twenty,” I remind him as Coach Peters moves in front of us.
“They’re going to blitz the fuck out of you tonight,” Peters says, his voice raspy from doing so many interviews. “Focus on where you’re supposed to be and make sure you’re cutting and looking for those holes early because Hudson’s going to have seconds to get that ball off. If you’re not where you should be, this loss is going to be on your shoulders.” He waves his finger at Corey, Grey, and me and then moves over to deliver an equally uninspiring threat to the offensive linemen.
Krueger waits until he begins before he steps closer to us, lowering his voice as much as he can to still be heard over the crowd. “They’re going to fall on McKinley,” he says. “The safety’s going to be on Palmer, and they’re going to expect McKinley to look for Meyers. This is your opportunity to fuck with the system.” He stares at me, likely assuming his words fuel something inside of me. And dammit if he’s not right. Conformity has always been my poison.
“They’re going to expect you to go long, but if you stay back, you’re fast enough to beat them down the field—at least once.”
“And Peters?” Grey asks.
“Leave him to me,” Krueger says, voiced emboldened with confidence.
Hudson nods and looks at me. “You ready?”
“Time to make history, baby.”
Hadley
The energy in the stadium is something I’ve not experienced anywhere else, so intense, it feels as though I’ve had a shot of alcohol or straight adrenaline.
It’s not as gratifying as the daring ideas that sometimes flit through my head like riding a motorcycle or taking a trip across the globe by myself, but it siphons off some of the energy that’s been thrumming through me all week, just the same.
“Do you think we should go out? We should, right?” Hannah asks from her seat beside me.
Camden’s offense is lining up, making it tricky for me to tear my attention away as I try to figure out who is who. “I thought that was our reason for coming out tonight?”
“Ethan doesn’t even know I exist. God, what do you think Nolan told him? I should never have told him.” She covers her face with both hands, clearly spiraling.
“Yes, you should’ve. You were brave and completely badass. Do you see Ethan? How do you know him?”
Hannah sighs deeply, before pulling her hands down her face. “He’s in one of my programming classes.”
“A nerdy meathead. Interesting.”
Hannah scoffs. “He’s a gamer. He doesn’t know much about programming from what I can tell.”
I nudge her with my shoulder. “Maybe he could use a tutor.”
She grins.
“Which one is he?” I study the guys on the bench and the field.
Hannah points. “Number thirteen.”