The animosity hadn’t just been on the field. On the sidelines, Samuels had paced like a caged tiger, his face contorted with a mixture of frustration and rage. Tempers soared, and adrenaline pumped through the air. But that’s college football for you.
During the first half of the game, we’d struggled for dominance, and even though we were in the lead, we still had our work cut out for us.
At the end of the coach’s notes, we all bumped fists, ready for battle. I was more than willing to continue the fight as I needed to impress my girl.
“OK, ladies, you have seven minutes. Get into your positions and look lively.”
“Yes, coach,” we all belted. I had decided to ignore those ‘adjustments’ the coach had suggested from how I’d played during the first half of the game. I was a do-what-I-want kind of guy, and so he’d expect me to go against his demands anyway.
“Get your ass over here, Prescott!” Samuels barked from behind me.
Glancing across the field, Reed was jogging towards us with a satisfied look on his face, no doubt for blowing his load down Storm’s throat. Talk about the last minute.
I chuckled as we regrouped, raising my eyebrows at Hudson, who was in the process of taking his meds.
“You might wanna go easy on that shit,” I suggested, punching him on the arm.
He ignored me and nodded across the field to where Harper and Molly were standing. Storm had just joined them. “She said yes then?” Hudson enquired with a smug expression.
“Yeah, man.” I hadn’t asked Harper out the traditional way. I hadn’t needed to. But yes, she was my girl, plain and simple.
Hudson popped another pill into his hand from the blister pack without batting an eyelid. “What if we win and they do a piss test?” I pointed out.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Coach has a copy of my prescription.”
“Just don’t overdo it, OK. You don’t want to feel drugged on the field,” I warned.
“Will you get off my ass already?” Pfft, I was only trying to help, and the dude bit my head off. That’s brotherly appreciation for you.
After chugging his tablets back with the water, Hud squirted the bottle at his face to cool off and rolled his shoulders. “Look, I’m taking it to even the playing field. If I don’t calm my tits, someone is going to end up in the ER. Maybe that tight end fuck, when I snap his fingers off and then feed them to him,” Hudson rumbled with his usual serial killer expression.
“You’re mental,” I said with a wicked grin.
He shot me a bored expression. “That’s the consensus.” And he wasn’t lying. Hudson wasn’t born the other side of sane, but watching your piece of shit father murder your mother right in front of you brought out your crazy.
“What’d I miss?” Reed said, tugging on his helmet.
We both ignored his question as I added. “You mean whilst you were off fornicating.”
This caused both my brothers to snort as Reed shot back, “What’s that now, fornicating? What are you, fifty?”
“Gage, Carter, Prescott! Get your assess on the field,” Coach Samuels belted, waving his arms around. He was such a screamer.
My brother and I bumped chests. “Let’s do this.”
As I moved into position, drinking in the cheering from the crowd, I ignored the massive smirk on the opposing team's lineman. I knew he was baiting me, the cocky motherfucker. Turning away, I jammed my helmet on and pushed the mouthguard between my lips through the cage, and then I saw them.
Standing at the entrance to the tunnel into the main stand was my brother. And just behind him was mymother.What the actual fuck? She appeared to be talking to a guy I recognized as the mayor’s Press Secretary, David Burns. I’d been introduced to him at Storm’s party.
My elevated mood took a nosedive. Shit.
The snap seemed to go off in slow motion as the opposition surged forward. My feet moved, tearing up the grass as I tore through two players, knocking both on their asses.
The play was tough; the Vipers coach had clearly torn his players a new one at halftime. They were on fire, and I was all over the place.
“Carter, get your head in the game!” Coach yelled as I failed to stop a bounce pass. My focus was shot. It was like an out-of-body experience. I was physically on the field, but my brain was elsewhere. I couldn’t concentrate; my head wasfogged with unanswered questions. After seeing my mother and brother, a flurry of emotions had erupted through me like a volcano going off. My mother was atmyfootball game. Why now, when I had decided to draw a line under that shit?
I tried to focus on the play, but they were coming at us from all angles. After taking down their fat-as-fuck kicker, I pushed to my feet and glanced back towards the tunnel, but it was empty.
