I thought she’d be a professional, but she turned me down.
Her reason: “I don’t think you’re good enough to get your master’s.”
Mind you, I carry a 4.0 GPA unweighted, but whatever.
With her nose a bit wrinkled, she says, “Ms. Mercer.”
Flashing a sweet smile, I ask, “Dr. Poncy, how are you?”
Ignoring my question, she sets me with a narrow look. “I need to speak with you privately. I spoke with Professor Koshkin, and I am not pleased that he is fighting for a higher grade for you on a paper that I feel you didn’t do your best on. From now on, I’d like to speak to you and only you.”
Air gets trapped in my lungs as I hold her gaze, unsure what to say. “I never asked Professor Koshkin to discuss my grade. He did that unsolicited as my adviser.”
She tsks at me. “Sure. Come with me.”
As I follow her into her office, my stomach twists on itself.
I wish I were anywhere but here.
But mainly, I wish I were with Dawson.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Dawson
One would have thought that after doing some short-distance throws, progressing ten yards each time, then going into my hip drills, my mind would be clear.
When it isn’t, I decide to run five miles. Surely that will get my mind right. I will stop overthinking, and then I can go to bed.
But with each mile, I swear it gets worse.
It isn’t even the crazy train of emotions that Ambrosia sent me on. No, I feel I’m handling that like a fucking pro.
Confused? Fuck yeah.
Excited? Yup, that too.
I know. Who am I?
So it isn’t Ambrosia who has me pushing my body to exhaustion. Even if I haven’t seen her in three days, I know things are going in my favor.
It’s my dad.
“Let the backup QB play for the next three games. You need to save your body for the NHL draft.”
I had every intention of ignoring him since I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions, but my dad knew I’d do that. Sohe took it upon himself to go to Coach Bannard. Since Coach Bannard knows the goal is the NHL, he told me he agrees with sitting me on the games with the lower-ranked teams but using me for the higher-ranked ones since we’re undefeated right now.
Problem is, I want to stay undefeated. I have faith that Blake Odemen is a damn good quarterback and he will make some damn good throws, but he sucks in the pocket. He’s not quick on his feet. He will take the tackle instead of running from it like I do. He’s known to fumble when he’s in a pinch, and I want this championship.
But I know I can’t do it all.
Maybe I should just walk away. The Jags dropped their interest, leaving only two NFL teams. I wouldn’t even go first round in the NFL, maybe fourth—when I know I’ll go second round in the NHL. Or I could say fuck it all and go straight into sports ethics. I’ve done an internship with the Tennessee chapter of SafeSport. I am nowhere near the number of hours as my peers, but I have a decent amount. I could intern for a year and then apply for a full-time position.
I have money saved up from all my NIL agreements. I can sign up for summer camps with Ashlyn and get paid that way too. While we aren’t sure where Louis will end up since we know it won’t be the Assassins, he’ll let me keep the condo we have. We talked about selling it since we’d both be drafted and it’s paid off.
I could buy him out.
