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“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Becks asks his other jock buddy as they continue to complain about tomorrow’s game being canceled.
“It’s just one stupid game,” I mutter, my eyes on my phone as I mindlessly scroll through Insta, wanting anything other than a damn weather report or some stupid sporting event to occupy my mind.
“At least we get to miss school tomorrow.” Savannah has a great point as she drops into the seat beside me.
“That part is good. But I can’t believe they canceled the game. We’re not even under mandatory evac,” Becks whines.
“It’s not even a game that counts towards playoffs,” Topher says, dropping his tray on the table.
“It counts. The Rams have been talking shit for weeks. They’re our biggest rivals.”
“Still doesn’t count,” Zulich chimes in. “But it would’ve been nice to whoop their ass one last time before graduation.”
“That’s right,” Becks gasps. “We won’t ever get to play the Rams again.”
“It’s just one stupid game that no one gives a shit about,” I state.
“Your dad does,” Becks says as I look up to mean mug the dumbass.
I don’t need a reminder. I’m all too aware his guys will miss out on much-needed practice, and he doesn’t want it to hurt the momentum they have going. All the bullshit reasons I heard him and Paul discussing last night. You’d think the assistant coach would like a day off too, but he’s just as obsessed with the game as Dad is.
“Let’s still play,” Becks exclaims, jumping to his feet. “We don’t need the academy or coaches on board. We can just show up and play the damn game.”
“Yeah. That sounds like an expulsion waiting to happen,” Savannah laughs.
But I don’t think Becks is joking as he asks Topher, “How about it? Help me spread the word, and we’ll play the game. I’m sure I can get someone over at their campus to let everyone know the game is still on.”
“I don’t have time for a pointless game right now. Plus, I can’t afford to get hurt playing just for kicks,” Topher says somberly. Standing from the table, he takes off, leaving his friend hanging.
“Zulich, you in?”
“Nope. I agree with Topher. What’s the point? We know we’re better. And we’ll show it when we take the title.” Zulich slaps Cade on the shoulder, but he shrugs it off.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Zulich doesn’t respond to the comment, we’re all familiar with the grumbler that is Cade Crawford. But Becks just can’t let his pipe dream go. “Come on, Crawford. Tell me you’re in.”
“No, I’m not,” Cade responds, then goes back to his conversation with Neil.
Becks finally seems to realize he’s not going to make his dream happen, so he plops back into his chair. “Dude, it’s senior year and none of you fuckers care.”
“Oh, we care,” Savannah laughs. “We just care more that it means we’re done with this place.”
“And football,” I chime in, drawing a few curious looks. Everyone knows I despise the game. They just don’t know how deep the hatred runs. Well, maybe a few do. That includes Cade, specifically, who hasn’t looked my way the entire day.
Notedly, his ass also didn’t show up last night in my bedroom. I won’t ever tell him, but he’s right. The nightmare returned without him, and I didn’t sleep worth a shit. Maybe that’s why I’m pricklier than normal. I just need to fucking sleep again without running laps around that creepy-ass hospital in my mind.
“Are y’all going to the ranch?” Savannah asks.
Neil looks to me, waiting for my answer, but his bestie seems like he’d rather avoid the discussion entirely. Which makes it even more satisfying to say, “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Me neither,” Becks says. “Looks like the storm is shifting more to the east anyways.”
“That can change at any second.” Savannah apparently doesn’t want to hang around.
“True,” Neil agrees, of course.
“I don’t think this one will change its path though,” Ava chimes in as she takes a seat on the other side of Savannah.
