“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” I ask. “Be honest.” A dangerous thing to say. An honest Sebastian isn’t always pleasant. His bluntness has hurt me in the past. At least I can trust him to give me the truth, no sugar-coating.
Sighing, he moves around the coach’s desk and sits in the rolling chair. Pretty sure we’re not allowed at his desk, but of course Sebastian can care less. “I don’t know, Noah. What you’re doing to him is pretty shitty, and I think you know that.”
My stomach sinks even lower, the nausea I feel wrapping like a hand around my heart.
“However—” He lifts a finger, his expression softening. “Since I’ve known Max, I’ve never seen him look at anyone else the way he looks at you. I can tell that he cares about you—a lot. Maybe even loves you.”
Heavy, overwhelming emotion threatens to close my throat. Fuck. I was afraid of that. Not because I don’t want his love, but because I do and I don’t deserve it. I’ve discovered a gift in Max, but it’s not mine to keep.
“If he finds out what you’ve done, he’ll be hurt, no doubt about it. But I think loving someone also means accepting their mistakes, forgiving them. I’m not sure how forgiving of a person he is, but he might be able to get over it, with time.”
“Yeah.” It’s barely a whisper. It’s the only hope I have, that, in time, he’ll be able to move past the hurt I’ve caused him.
Leaning back in the chair, Sebastian checks the clock on the wall. “We need to get onto the field anyway.”
“But Kellan—”
“Isn’t here. I know it sucks, but if Coach makes you play, just try to stay alive, all right?” He goes out into the hall, forcing me to follow. With each step toward the exit, my stomach drops lower and lower until, eventually, it feels like it’s dragging along the ground. No matter what happens, I’m not going to die on that field. If the ball comes to me, I’ll try to kick it to one of my teammates, but I’m not going to try and block anyone if I can help it.
Outside, the stands are packed. Up, up, up—the seats are filled to the very top. The roar of sound crashes down with the force of a tsunami. I’m rooted to the spot. I never imagined what a game would be like. Sometimes students show up to the practices, but it’s a handful at most. There has to be tens of thousands of people here. They’re all going to watch me fail.
I walk to where the rest of the team gathers in a daze. My cleats sink into the grass. Or rather, Kellan’s cleats sink into the grass. I’m wearing the uniform of a player who has the same face, but is not me. I’m a liar and a fraud and in love with a man—a good, kind man—who thinks I’m someone else.
Notre Dame students wearing blue and gold sit on one side of the stadium. Their screams peak. They wave flags and hold up signs that say things like “Sebastian, please have my babies!” and “Jason, my number is 835-8234. Call me!” If I didn’t feel close to puking, I’d think it was funny.
The guys break up to start their stretches. I look to the stands, feeling like something important is out there, something I need to see. I’m not sure why I look or where the feeling comes from. It’s not like I can pick out any one person from the masses anyway. But my gaze is drawn to the bleachers behind one of the goals. I squint harder through the lights flooding the field. I could have sworn I saw—
No, I’m not mistaken. A guy with dark hair, dark eyes, and a familiar smile slings his arm around the shoulders of another guy our age, his smile bigger than I’ve ever seen it. That face, it’s the same one I look at in the mirror every morning.
Kellan.
Chapter 22
Max
Because traffic is a bitch, I arrive at the field twenty minutes later than I intended. It’s a home game. The roads are jammed, the sidewalks packed with fans. The only parking space I can find is on the top level of a parking garage, and it’s a five-minute jog from there. Since I’m already dressed in my uniform, I won’t need to take more time to change.
Once I enter the stadium, I move as quickly as I can through the packed concrete halls. There’s a huge line at the concession stand, and an even longer line for the bathroom. At this rate, it will take me forever to reach the locker room.
It’s as I’m passing one of the openings leading to the outside seating that I spot the back of a familiar head. I turn, heart beating in my throat, a smile already stretching across my face.
Yet the high I feel extinguishes, like a candle blown out. My stomach plummets as if it decided to thrown itself off a cliff, and it keeps plummeting until it crashes against the ground. At first, I think I’m mistaken. The lights, messing with my vision. Turning away, I look again. The image doesn’t change.
Kellan.
And he’s kissing another guy.
Chapter 23
Noah
The game starts in ten minutes, and Kellan still isn’t here.
I’m sure I saw him. I know the sight of my own face. He stood in the stands with another guy, wearing one of his gawdy Hawaiian shirts and in no hurry to find me. When I looked again, he was gone, the area overtaken by more attendees.
While I complete stretches with the team, shivering despite the long-sleeved shirt I wear under the jersey, I continue looking for Kellan in the stands. There are too many people. At one point, Sebastian catches my eye, gives me a questioning look.Kellan, I mouth. His eyebrows lift in surprise, and he searches for our brother too. Nothing. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination.
With Kellan absent, I’ll have to go forward with playing the game. The thought makes me want to vomit. From what the guys spoke of, Clemson, Notre Dame’s opponent, plays dirty. So much so that, according to Jason, one of their players shattered a guy’s ankle last week when attempting a slide tackle. All the more reason for menotto play.
