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Idiot.
“Girls,” I tell him, grinning. “Lots and lots of girls.”
Hunter
“Shoulders squared!” Coach Dewitt shouts.
I scramble backward and stop, dig in with my right foot, rear my arm back, and launch the football down the field.
“Again!”
T.C. snaps the football. I catch it.
“Laces up!” Dewitt shouts.
I quickly spin the ball as I scurry backward, my pinkie and ring finger on the laces as I throw the ball toward the end zone.
But it skids off the grass way before that, the spin putting it into a dive that’s too fast.
“You’re not listening.” The coach charges up to me, grabbing a ball out of the basket as he approaches me. “Elbow forward…” He holds the ball, demonstrating. “Rotate your wrist, and then elbow extended. You keep doing it like that, you’re going to throw out your shoulder, and you’re going to be in a world of pain.”
“I’m defense,” I tell him. “I’ve been defense. Why are you bringing me in to QB?”
Farrow’s the quarterback. Why am I stepping in for him this game?
Dewitt drops the ball, sporadic rain dotting his light blue T-shirt. “What was that tone?”
He narrows his eyes, and I close my mouth, collecting myself.
It’s Ditch Day, but he called us in for a mini-workout when, really, it’s just me he wanted. I’ve played offense before, but I’ve been a tackle here since I joined the team. That means I have opportunities to sack my brother—the Shelburne Falls quarterback—since his ego often demands that he rush for yardage out of the pocket instead of letting someone else run the ball.
I jerk my head, hearing my neck crack. Kade’s taunt from the other night still sits in my head. I tried not to take it out on Dylan, which is why I mostly stayed away from her yesterday. It’s none of my business where she slept that night.
I just need to concentrate on the game, and it’s not going well. I think about him too much, and her all the time. Her body, her smile, how she must feel to hold… Does he know?
The coach closes the distance between us, looking at me sternly. “We don’t give a shit who your dad is here?”
I know. I know I can’t talk to him like Kade talked to our coach in the Falls, and I’ve never smarted off to a coach before.
But… “If I’m offense,” I explain, “I won’t be on the field at the same time as my brother. It’s the only reason I joined this team.”
Well, not the only reason, but it was a non-negotiable, for sure.
“He knows I’ve been playing defense,” I point out. “If I suddenly switch, he’s going to think I’m afraid to face him.”
“And I think you bringing your baggage onto the field is bad for our chances,” Dewitt replies.
I cast my gaze to the side, seeing the guys fooling around by the benches. Calvin stands shirtless, sweat dripping from his hair as he speaks animatedly, probably telling a story. Everyone else loiters around, listening and laughing.
Dewitt sends T.C. back to the team, leaving us alone as he faces me again. “Do you think any of us care about you and Kade Caruthers settling a score?” he asks. “I’m old, kid. I’ve seen thousands come and go.” He looks over his shoulder, continuing. “Constin will be serving twenty to life in five years. I’ll bet you a million dollars on that.”
I find Constin in the group, tattoos already covering his arms and half of his chest. His dad died in prison, and he works for Green Street to help pay the bills.
“Luca will have three baby mamas in seven years,” the coach adds. “Calvin will be dead in three. Probably from an overdose. And a couple of them will be shot.” He looks at me again. “Probably by Farrow, because you know he’s not going anywhere good.”
All the air tries to leave my lungs, but I keep my composure. I glance at the guys again, no idea where Farrow is. He walked off a while ago.
Dewitt is right. Farrow works for Green Street, just like Constin, but Farrow is being groomed for more. Constin reports to him. More than a few people do. Does my grandfather know that?
