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Chapter One
RAYN
I hurl my body across the field.
Every day, I tell myself the same things.
Run faster.
Train harder.
Score more.
I’m a tight-end and it’s my job to run my route, get the ball, and get in the end-zone.
Score.
We all train hard, sure. I mean, this is a competitive sport. Aggressive. Tough.
But no one trains quite like I do. I put in more hours than any other guy out there. I’m here early and I’m here late and I don’t take breaks.
Coach tells me that I need to watch myself.
I tell him that it’s everyone else who needs to watch out.
You may think I’m too cocky or I’m too serious, but the truth is that I know what I want and what it takes to get there.
I’m headed for the NFL.
I don’t just want to be good. I want to be a fucking legend.
And in order to do that, you can’t just train like everyone else trains. You have to go above and beyond.
You have to be the best.
I’m running sprints.
I’m aiming for a PR when I see Coach out of the corner of my eye.
That’s not good.
I know he’s pissed before I even make my way over to him. Steam practically comes out of his ears when he finally has me where he wants me–right in front of him, at his attention.
“Coach,” I say, bracing myself. “Something up?”
He slams a paper into my chest. I don’t falter, but I grab whatever it is that he is so clearly pissed about.
It’s not good when Coach doesn’t speak.
I mean, the man loves to talk. So, if I have stumped the words right out of him, then I’m really in for it.
I look at the paper and see my grades splattered across the page.
Right.
So, here’s the thing. I may be an incredible athlete. I may be the most disciplined athlete. But in terms of school? Well, I’m probably the worst.
It’s not that I am dumb. I am pretty smart, actually. But I just don’t care. I skip class more than I should. I rarely study. And I miss assignments.
