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He rubs his jaw and his eyes flick back to the field. The training staff is still attending Kenny’s injury, and it doesn’t look good.
“What about your leg?”
“What about it?” I ask.
“If you tear your ACL again, you’re done. Next year is gone.”
“Fuck next year, man. I care about right here, right now. And if this is it for me, then so be it. I have everything I want, but I’m not letting my teammates go down without helping to at least give them a shot.”
“You’re out of your mind.” Shawn laughs and scoops up his headset. “Out of your goddamn mind.”
“Maybe.” I shrug and start stretching my hips. “But what other choice do you have? Donny Deluca who hasn’t played a single game all year?”
“Christ. Okay. I need to talk to the folks upstairs.”
“Talk away. You know where I’ll be.”
“You aren’t doing this hero shit to impress anyone, are you?”
I snort. “You mean Maven? She doesn’t care if I play or not. Come on, Coach. Let me be useful.”
He speaks into his microphone and nods along to whatever is being said in his ear. “Bill gave me the okay. Don’t try anything stupid, Lansfield.”
“No promises.” I grin and grab my helmet, taking off for the huddle.
“What are you doing here?” Jett asks when I squeeze in next to him.
“RB,” I say, and his eyes widen.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Might as well spice things up. It can’t get worse, can it?”
“Holy hell.” He clasps my shoulder. “I’ve got your back, Cap.”
“I’ve got yours too, QB. Let’s win this fucking thing.”
FIFTY-TWO
MAVEN
I watchKenny Jenkins hobble off the field, and I groan.
“That’s like our fifth guy to be injured tonight,” I say to Dallas’s sister, January. “Is there even anyone left on the bench who can play?”
“I think at this point, anybody that can just stand on the field long enough to knock out a defender is best.” She sighs and kicks her feet up on the railing. “Oh well. It was a good game. It sucks the only thing people are going to remember about it are the—what thehellis he doing?”
“Who?” I ask. I lean around June to see what’s going on and my heart sinks to my stomach. “Is that?—”
“Dallas? It sure as shit is.” January jumps up, and everyone around us begins to stand. They can sense something is happening, and my pulse quickens.
“He’s not kicking, is he? They’re on the opposite end of the field.” I stand, too, and hold June on my hip. “That would be impossible, and it wouldn’t win them the game.”
“He’s not kicking. He’s going in as a running back.”
“What? Is he out of his goddamn mind? Sorry, June Bug, don’t listen to me right now, I’m mad. He had a concussionearlier this season. He ended up in the hospital, for god’s sake, and I thought he wasdead,” I say.
He’s lucky he’s so far away from me, because if he was close enough to hear, I’d be giving him a fucking earful right now. All the excitement I was holding onto washes away, and now I just feel nauseous as hell.
