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Coach waves me to the sideline as the field goal unit takes the field. I try to relay that I can get us closer, but he gets more pissed, frantically signals me to leave the field. Fuck. It’s over. At least for me. I jog to the sideline and try to make a plea for another shot, but Coach doesn’t hear me out as he keeps a focus on the field goal kicker. Fucking Lenny of all people.
“I can get us closer.” More like get the touchdown so Lenny doesn’t come in to rescue my pitiful performance.
“That’s enough, Crawford. You’re done.” And he shuffles to the side as I turn to watch the action I’m not a part of on the field. Once the snap is called, the ball is kicked and sails through the air. I’ve never had so many mixed emotions at the same time.
I want it to be good. I want to win. But I don’t want him to win it for us because I lost the fucking lead. But he does. The ball passes through the goal posts, and the stadium erupts in cheers.
We won. We’re still undefeated. One play didn’t win the game. One play didn’t lose it. But why the hell do I feel like shit even as the team and fans celebrate around me?
13
MORGAN
When I walk into the locker room. The first thing I hear is my dad yelling. That doesn’t surprise me. But what does is the voice shouting back at him. Thatcher. Never thought the guy had it in him to stand up to anyone but the teenagers he makes miserable on the daily. But even if I’m pissed at my dad. The weasel has no right to be such a dick when he’s screwing my mom behind Dad’s back. Wait. Is that what they’re arguing about? I make my way closer to the office door but stay out of view.
Dad yells, “I can’t win the fucking games if you insist on having so much drama surrounding them. That was not part of our agreement. So, either back the fuck off or I’m done.”
“You won’t walk away from this. You have much more to lose than me.” Thatcher surprises me by laughing. I figured he’d be a little less ballsy from the way I’ve seen him wimp out. Why does it seem like they’re not only talking about football though?
I don’t have time to figure it out when I hear “Hi, Morgan” come from behind me.
Fucking Paul. I cringe a bit, my hand grips my thigh as I turn to where he’s standing behind me. “Hey there, Pauly.”
He looks past me to my dad’s office then back to me. “Visiting your dad?”
And that’s about the time Dad moves to the doorway to look between Paul and me. “Yes, I forgot to grab my makeup bag after the game and noticed your car was still here,” I tell my dad. Which was shocking, actually, because he usually hauls ass outta here right after the game, along with the rest of the team, and it’s been over for about an hour. When I look to Dad’s dumbfounded expression I say, “But apparently I’m interrupting.”
“No, we’re done.” Thatcher waves it off, then goes to leave as Dad slaps his shoulder.
“Yeah. Everyone is on edge because there’s so much at stake this season.”
I look at these three stooges who have some kind of tense, weird energy flowing between them. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Principal Thatcher, I need to speak with you about something.” Paul motions for him to follow. Does he know about what’s happening between Mom and Thatcher? I know he kisses dad’s ass, but I doubt he’s very loyal if there’s something in it for him.
“I was just leaving, Morgan.” Dad steps back into his office and grabs his keys and things from his desk. “I’ll see you at the house.”
“I’m not going home.”
Dad stops and looks to me with confusion as I explain. “Homecoming. Hotel, limo, dinner, dance, all starting now that the stupid-ass game is over. Remember?” But of course, he doesn’t because it doesn’t get him a step closer to his precious title.
“I’m assuming Cade will be there.”
“Yes.”
He drops his phone and keys back on the desk as he moves around it and stops in front of me. “Stay away from him, Morgan.”
“I’ve actually tried to. Mostly.” But he’s the one who keeps begging for more.
Dad slowly raises his hand, his finger in my face as he says, “I know what you did tonight. I saw the change in him the second Randall showed up at the game. I know you invited him, and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to know that Cade didn’t want his father here. So, I’m going to warn you one last time, Morgan. Leave him alone. Let him play ball. Let him secure his future. There’s more on the line than just his. This is my future too.” Dad takes a step back and tries to appear upset. “My boss is riding my ass now. And I really don’t want to let him down.”
I can’t help the laugh that involuntarily escapes. “Let Thatcher down?” I should stop. I should bite back the words. But I can’t. I won’t. Fuck all of them. “Don’t worry. Mom is keeping him happy.”
Anger, shock, disappointment is what I was waiting for. But instead, there’s more of a frenzy panic morphing over him. “How did you find out? Did your mother tell you?”
Um. Come again? “No, Mom didn’t tell me she’s fucking my principal, but the real question is who told you and why the fuck are you okay with it?”
“Did I say I was okay with it?”
