I’ve spent the entire fall semester keeping Brady at arm’s length and now I’m supposed to just hand over my heart?
You can’t give him something he already owns.
It’s true. No matter how hard my brain tries to deny it, no matter how many times I tell myself I’m not falling, in the four months we’ve known each other, Brady’s won me over in a million little ways.
“Win or lose, he’s going to need you tomorrow,” she says, unrelenting. “If you don’t go, you’re going to regret it.”
She’s right. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but this is one I can still avoid if I act quickly.
I can’t use the money I’ve set aside for this semester’s living expenses, but I could use my emergency credit card. If I do a few extra shoots over the next few months, I’ll probably be able to pay it down.
Or you’ll graduate with no savings and no money for a new apartment.
Fucking Mike McConnell.
I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for him. In just a few short months, that asshole has bled me dry and forced me to film personalized content I never would have accepted if I wasn’t so hard up for cash.
You should have just told Brady what was going on.
No. The TA is my problem. Brady has enough on his mind without me piling on.
“So?” Jenna asks, prodding me to return to the conversation. “What are you going to do?”
I know what I will not do, and that’s let Brady down.
“I’ve got to go, Jenna. I need to make travel arrangements.”
Even if Brady’s mom no longer has an extra ticket, I can go to Miami for moral support.
My bestie squeals. “I knew you’d make the right decision.”
Whether it’s the right decision or not remains to be seen, but I’ve made up my mind and I’m going to see this plan through.
35
BRADY
It’sSunday afternoon and we just wrapped up our last practice before the championship game tomorrow. The guys on the team are feeling bullish, despite the fact that Georgia’s grabbed two national titles in the last five years and we haven’t seen one in over a decade.
“Listen up!” Coach Collins hollers. He’s standing at the front of the locker room, surrounded by the rest of the coaching staff, his trusty clipboard in hand. “That was a good practice today. You guys,” he cuts his gaze to Carter, “and gals have played your hearts out this season. In all my years of coaching, I’ve never had a more talented, more hardworking team than the one that stands before me today.”
Shouts of “Damn right!” and “Hell yeah!” fill the air, along with the thump of a few helmets.
“You all play tomorrow like you played today, and we’ll bring that title home for Wildcat Nation. You’ve put in the work and despite what those assholes in Vegas say, we’ve got what it takes to upset Georgia and send the Dawgs home with their tails between their legs.”
This time, the entire locker room fills with shouts and thumps as the guys around me bang on their helmets and benches. The raucous goes on far longer than it should, but no one’s ever accused us of being a restrained group.
“All right,” Coach says, motioning for us to bring it down a notch or ten. “Save it for tomorrow. You’re going to need all the energy you’ve got, which is why I want everyone showered and back to their rooms by 8 p.m. No exceptions.” He scans the locker room, doing his damnedest to make eye contact and put the fear of God into each of us. “You’ll have plenty of time to celebrate after you win the game tomorrow.”
“I know that’s right!” Smith shouts, pumping his fist in the air.
“I think I speak for the entire coaching staff,” Coach Collins says, gesturing to Coach Walker and the others, “when I say I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished this season, both on and off the field. We overcame injuries.” He pauses, and I know I’m not the only one thinking about Spellman’s busted leg. “We welcomed new talent.” All eyes turn to Carter and she dips her chin in acknowledgement. “We faced a tough loss, and you guys busted your asses on the field and in the classroom to get to this moment. This team has banded together to overcome adversity and we’re stronger for it. Tomorrow Georgia’s going to see just how strong we are when we step onto that field.”
A loud cheer goes up from the team, myself included, and this time, the coaching staff joins in, Coach Walker the loudest of them all.
When the noise dies down, Coach Collins gives us one last look. “Now go get cleaned up, grab some dinner, and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day and I don’t want to see any of you dragging ass or you’ll be—”
“Running laps until we puke!” the team responds in unison.
