Page 57 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

He points toward the stairs.

“Move it, Jade Lillian.”

“You did not just call me that!” I laugh as I hurry after him.

“She never drove either.”

14

LAST SEASON

Tommy

The Blue Valley water tower comes into view as Links rolls down the hill leading to Main Street.

I stare out the passenger window. “Our last season.”

Links snorts. “Our last high school season.”

I glance over. “That's literally what I said.”

“No, you made it sound like we're retiring.”

“We are.”

“We're eighteen.” he says, and we both laugh.

Links shakes his head and keeps driving.

The guy genuinely believes we’re going to play together forever, and yeah, I would love that, but in this rare case, I’m the one playing the role of realist.

College. Football. Life. Whatever. It is what it is.

Links will get recruited without trying; he’s that good. If football were a religion in Central New York, they'd probably build a shrine to him somewhere between the gym and the cafeteria.

Me? I can play. Hell, I'm good. Good enough for division one college, good enough for a scholarship, good enough that coaches call.

But when people talk about the future, they talk about Links. And honestly? They're right. He’s on a different level.

“Senior year, man.” I rub my hands together when I see trucks. Not that I'd ever tell him that, rolling into the student parking lot of Blue Valley High, our school now. “You gonna hit play, or am I?”

“We don’t need a theme song, Lane.” He laughs.

“Not theme.” I push the CD into the stereo. “An entrance.”

“You do you, but don’t expect me to follow you around singing Friends in Low Places whenever you walk into a room.”

“That would be bad ass.” I laugh. “But we’re doing us this year, Links and Lane, regardless of the field we’re playing on.”

He holds out a fist and gives it a tap when Thunderstruck blasts through the speakers. “This year and every fucking year we got coming.”

“Look at that.”

“What?” he asks.

“The fan club.”

Links groans before he even looks.