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Guess that will be something to figure out tomorrow morning.
* * *
Hours later, the entire team is in the locker room, getting ready for the game.
We all have our routines.
Murphy psyches himself up in a mirror.
Bash tapes up his wrists and hands like a boxer.
Cooper is with the trainer getting stretched out.
Landon blasts his Meek Mill playlist loud enough to be heard in the parking lot.
I’m sitting with my back to the locker, noise-canceling headphones on, and my eyes closed. This helps me decompress and get into the zone. If I can tune everything out, it’s easier for me to focus, visualize the game.
I feel someone sit beside me before cracking my neck and opening my eyes to see who’s fucking with my zone.
Darby is next to me, looking uncomfortable.
Taking my headphones off, I wait for him to speak.
“Brady, I wanted to talk to you for a minute before the game.”
I just look at him. This fucker seems to be utterly oblivious to how much I want to fucking kill him. He’s lucky that my position on this team means that I can’t hurt him… yet.
“Listen, man, I know what happened at the beach was fucked up. I had too much to drink and wasn’t thinking clearly. I wanted to let you know that I’ve got your back out there today. Just thought it was important that my quarterback knows that.” Darby waits for an answer, an acceptance that doesn’t come.
He nods his head at me, gets up, and walks away.
Darby doesn’t offer his hand for a shake.
He just steps away.
He has always been a sneaky mother fucker, and I still don’t trust him.
Darby may be talking about a united team, but if he means it, it’s only for his benefit, not mine or the team’s.
Coach Maxwell comes into the locker room, and it’s time for the pregame speech.
25
Natalie
Chloe took me home after school today and made sure that I had everything I needed to get ready for the game tonight.
I may be going to the game with my Dad, but my BFF has my back. Of course, it was a whole lot easier to be sure of this move earlier when Chloe was here than it is now.
I’m dressed in the tightest, dark blue skinny jeans that I own. My hair is up in a high ponytail, with the curls hanging down and a navy blue ribbon tied around it. I refused to wear the booties that Chloe was pushing for, so instead, I have on my light pink converse. My brother Declan likes to laugh at my converse addiction. I have a pair in almost every color, but what can I say. My mom loves her Jimmy Choos, and I love my Chucks.
The vital part of my look tonight is the jersey that I’m wearing. It doesn’t say Sinclair on the back. Nope. The navy-blue Kroydon Hill’s jersey I’m wearing was given to me this afternoon by Chloe and has a number 6 on the back.
RYAN is written in big gold letters stretching from shoulder to shoulder.
Chloe said it was Brady’s jersey from last year. I am a little nervous about this.
I feel like I am doing something wrong.
