It’s halftime, and Coach calls us to the sidelines. Everyone takes a knee around him. I clutch my side as I let an audible groan slip from my lips.
Ainsley catches my weight as I collapse onto the turf.
“What the hell is going on?” Coach says.
“Nothing.”
“He’s hurt,” Ainsley says.
“No, I’m not.” I give her a menacing stare. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
“You’re ruining it for yourself!” She rips off her helmet and turns to Coach. “He’s playing with an injury. I don’t know how bad it is, but he’s not okay.”
My stomach roils, churning with a mixture of anger and fear.
Coach’s eyebrows jump. “What’s wrong, Fletcher?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” The players in front of me blend together, and I blink to clear my vision but it doesn’t help. I sway on my feet.
“You have to pull him.”
My head snaps to Ainsley. “Fuck no.”
Coach gives me a hard stare. “The scouts can always come back another day.”
“But this is the playoffs.” There might not be another game. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes. “I know I can do this. I’ve already come this far. Please.”
My teammates glance at one another in silence.
I cut my glance to Ainsley. “You asked me this season to trust you, that you can handle yourself on the field. Why won’t you give me that same respect?”
“Because you’re already hurt, Landon. This is different. And playing could make it worse. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital.”
“What happened?” Coach asks. “Did you twist your ankle or something?”
I clear my throat, not willing to tell anyone the truth. “I have a bruised rib. It’s not a big deal.”
Ainsley reaches out before I see it coming. She nudges me in the stomach, and I groan as I stagger backward.
“See?” she says. “He can’t afford to take another hit.”
“What is your problem?” I yell, unable to contain my anger any longer. “Are you trying to ruin my chance of getting out ofhere?” I tilt my head. “Or is it too much for your ego to handle that I’m the one in the spotlight tonight, hmm?”
“Fuck you,” she spits, getting in my face. “I’m just trying to look out for you, and for the team.”
I cough out a bitter laugh. “When have you ever looked out for the team? You’re only in this for yourself.”
“Enough.” Coach’s voice thunders into the air. “Landon, you’re out.”
My eyes fly to his. “Coach, no. I’m fine, I promise. Just let me finish the game.”
“I said you’re out, Fletcher. This isn’t worth prolonging your injury for. Now you can sit on the bench, or get your ass off my field and to a doctor.”
Betrayal burns like acid, coursing through me and burning my veins.
This can’t be happening.
Everything I’ve worked so hard for is just...over.
