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“I wish I could go with you.”
“There is always the next one.”
But we both know that’s not true. There wasn’t a next one. If they lost today, that would be it.
“Then you better bring it home, so I can come and watch.” I try to push upright, but the pain shoots through my stomach, making me lie back down.
Prescott curses softly. “You really need to rest.”
“I’ll rest when…” I catch myself before finishing that sentence. “I’ll rest, but first…” I beckon him closer. He leans in, and I press my mouth against his. “Good luck today.”
“I’ll see you soon. Did you call Dr. Hendriks?”
My throat bobs as I swallow. “Yeah, she wants me to come back in a few days. They’ll redo the blood tests, and if everything looks good, I should get my first round of chemo before we go home for Thanksgiving. So yay, me.”
“It’ll be yay the day she tells us you’re cancer free. I really should go.” With one more kiss, he gets to his feet. “Talk later?”
* * *
PRESCOTT
One good thing about the football field? It’s the one place where I can battle my demons out in the open, and nobody will blink an eye. In fact, they’d relish it. They’ll applaud me for pushing harder, running faster.
I bounce on the balls of my feet as the clock ticks down in the final quarter. Just a few more minutes, and it’ll all be done. We were leading by two touchdowns already, so the chances of our opponents winning were slim. But the game has to be played, and nothing was final, until that timer ran out.
The referee blows the whistle.
“Let’s go, and wrap this up, boys.”
I drop my water bottle in the bin, pulling on my helmet as we run out on the field and line up on the fifty-yard line. Once again, I come face to face with Collins’s ugly mug. The dude and I played in middle and high school together, and he was the worst kind of tool even back then. Nothing has changed much since.
Dude cracks his neck and puffs out his chest like a damn peacock. “You’re going down, Wentworth.”
“You mean down to the end zone like I did the last three times?” I smirk at him, knowing it’ll irritate the hell out of him. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Collins narrows his eyes at me, an evil gleam shining in their depths. “How’s that brother of yours doing again? Oh, right he’s dead.”
My fingers clenched into fists, and I’m about to take a step forward to connect my fists with his irritating face, when the play is called.
It takes me a second to react, a freaking second, but it’s enough for Collins to read me and get in my way long enough for Nixon to have to look for an opening. He throws the ball to one of our running backs instead, but the dude is tackled before he passes ten yards.
The officiant blows a whistle signaling ‘end of play.’
Nixon curses behind me and gives me a what the hell look, but I just give an imperceptible shake of my head.
“You were saying?” The smug smile Collins gives me makes my teeth clench.
The second time we line up, I don’t let him affect me. The moment the play is called, I’m slipping away from him, and conquering twenty yards before I’m stopped.
“You think you’re the shit?” Collins spits, his cheeks red. “I’ve heard some interesting things about you, Wentworth.”
The fine hairs at my nape start to rise.Just ignore him. He doesn’t know shit. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. “I’m sure you did.”
“Oh, I did; very interesting things. Like the fact your tastes lean toward flat-chested boys. I always knew you were fucked up. I just never understood to what point. Brother issues, Wentworth?”
His words make me see red.
This time I step toward him, my fingers wrapping around his jersey, but a hand braces around my wrist.
