Page 30 of The Game We Played

“Good. No one deserves to have money problems because they’re ill.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “I won’t complain.”

I giggle and slap his chest. “Go away. You have a line of kids waiting for you.”

“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” he sings as he swaggers away.

I observe as he chats with the next kid in line. Maybe there’s more to Tanner than being a goofball. Maybe he can be serious. Maybe goofball is a charade he plays for the rest of the world.

This is not a good revelation to have. Player Tanner, who’s always in trouble, is easy to resist. Serious Tanner, who wants to help out sick kids, is not.

Chapter 10

BREAKING: TANNER LONG TAKES FOOTBALL SERIOUSLY Teammates question everything else

Tanner

The whistle cuts through the humid morning air. Training camp began this week and Coach Knox has us out in the heat running drills.

“Again!” Coach Knox barks.

I plant my foot in the turf and explode off the line. This time, I don’t think. I don’t joke. I don’t talk. I run. Five yards – cut inside. Ten – accelerate. Fifteen – break right.

The cornerback sticks to me, but I already know where Nolan’s putting the ball. He always leads me outside the numbers when I run this route.

I don’t look back. Not yet. Three more strides. Now. I turn my head, track the ball over my shoulder, and reach. The spiral drops perfectly into my hands. I secure it, tuck it, and take two more strides before slowing.

“Better,” Coach says. He’s not praising me. Not yet, at least. I’ll get him to drop some praiseon me soon enough.

I nod once and jog back to the line. This is not the time for grins or smart comments. This is work. Football is serious business – despite what my family thinks. It’s not just a game. Or a distraction until I begin my ‘real’ career. A career they choose for me.

We reset.

“Focus on your release,” Nolan mutters as I line up next to him.

“I’m always focused,” I shoot back automatically.

The quarterback gives me a look. He clearly doesn’t believe me. I scowl. He knows me better than this. We’ve been playing on the same team for several years. He knows I’m serious on the field. No matter how much I joke off it.

“I’m focused.”

“Cut the chatter,” Coach snaps. “Again!”

I crouch at the line, eyes forward. The world narrows. No Alaia. No PR disaster. No cameras. Just the snap. Just this moment on the field. Just the game I love.

The corner presses me this time and tries to jam me at the line. Not happening. I slap his hands away, pivot, and burst past him.

I’ve got the speed necessary. Being fast is my job. It’s what I’m paid for. And it’s what I’m good at. It’s where I excel. It’s why I’m here.

I eat up the space between us and the safety before breaking into my route. The ball’s already in the air. Good. I adjust mid-stride, reach across my body, and snag it one-handed.

The defense groans.

“Show-off,” Corbin mutters.

I toss the ball back to Nolan. “You love it.”