This morning when he’d woken up, some of his memory had returned. He recognized his mom, his dad, and a much younger Colt.
And high school me.
Shane had a hungry look in his eye. All day he’d pushed and pulled for the doctors to pump Blue full of whatever would make his memory return the fastest. As if that’s how this worked. All he cared about was getting Blue back on the field ASAP.
All Blue could focus on was me. In his head, we were still hot and heavy, even though logically he knew we weren’t. Because I’d told him so, repeatedly—and so had his mom, multiple times when he refused to believe me.
“Just think about the money they could make UK.” Daisy Foxhorn, the tall blonde who’d orchestrated getting me on the field yesterday, bounced on the balls of her feet. The overbearing Neanderthal of a woman was in charge of all publicity for UK sports, and her eyes had been darting between Blue and me all afternoon. Like we were her ticket to fame and stardom.
She straightened her glasses. “Blue signed a contract that allows us to use his name and likeness. If she,” she gestured at me, “will sign a contract we could capitalize on yesterday’s events.”
My hands came up. “What if I don’t want my name and face all over social media and the news?”
She rolled her eyes. “It already is.” She propped her hands on her hips and shifted back to the group. “We need to capitalize on this. You saw what dating Taylor Swift did for Travis Kelce’s career.” Wait, did she just compare me to Taylor Swift? “Anna’s going to make beaucoup bucks. Ford Dupree’s record label already wants her to record ‘Rocky Top’ with him—and another song they’re writing as we speak.”
Blue’s brow flicked up, looking impressed. “Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift?”
“Yeah.” I stood. “I’m not doing that.” I knew about the record label. Ford had already texted me this morning. None of it was the least bit enticing. After the mortification I’d felt at the Knoxville game, if I’d ever had any dreams of stardom—spoiler alert: I hadn’t—they would have been completely squelched.
“Then you’re not as smart as you look,” she snapped.
“Hey.” Blue’s eyes flashed, furious.
Without taking a breath, she turned back to the coaches. “People are already making bank on this. Merch is all over the internet—Rocky Top Me. Team Blupree. Love at the Fifty Yard Line. Touchdowns and True Love. We’re the ones who should be making money off of it.”
My jaw fell open. People were buying and wearing shirts that said Team Blupree?
She thrust her hand at me. “We have a perfect opportunity next week. Blue is presenting the king’s crown at Seddledowne’s Homecoming game next Friday. Anna can present the queen’s crown. We’ll make it a whole hometown trip. We can get the news there. Everyone will gobble it up.” I hadn’t even heard that Blue was doing that. You’d think my Duncle wasn’t the high school principal or anything.
“Uh, they won’t let me do that,” I said. “That’s Janica Bolden’s job. She won homecoming queen last year.”
Daisy waved that off. “And you were the queen the year before. We’ll make it happen.”
Once again my mouth fell open. How did she know that?
Blue glanced at me, starry-eyed. “You won homecoming queen?”
“Yeah, and I already passed my crown off to Janica.” Job completed. I wasn’t going to take the honor away from her.
Daisy rolled her eyes again.
Coach Whitlock slapped a stack of rolled-up papers against his leg. “Whatever you want to do is fine.” He turned to the team doctor. “We just need to get him back on the field ASAP. Whatever you have to do to make that happen.”
“He’s a boy,” Missy said. “Not a machine.”
“He has retrograde amnesia. He may never get his memory completely back,” the hospital’s neurologist, Dr. LaForce, said, a tinge of irritation in his voice.
“He will,” Coach Whitlock said sternly, as if he had the play in his playbook to make it happen.
Blue shoved his hands into his thick shock of brown hair. “I still can’t believe I’m QB1 for the University of Knoxville.” Then he let out a nervous laugh, which twisted my stupid insides in a hooey knot. His voice was rough like sandpaper. If his jacked body and extra five inches didn’t screamI’m no longer a boy, that deep voice surely did. No wonder girls snuck into his hotel room whenever they had away games.
Blue scowled and looked at his parents. “Why’d you let me sign with Knoxville though? They suck.” He studied me. “I wanted to play for Tech or UVA.” That had been our plan.
“Excuse me,” Daisy’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t get all bent out of shape,” Coach Whitlock said. Then he turned to Blue. “We used to suck and then you came along. Now we’re number five in the nation. Which is why we need you to make a speedy recovery.”
“You can’t schedule a recovery,” Missy snapped. “You know what?” She held her hands up. “I’m taking him home with me. Y’all are putting too much pressure on him.”
