When I’d checked my phone, there was one missed call from Mom sitting on the screen. We kept missing each other because her schedule as a nurse in Atlanta was even crazier than mine.
When the last of the drunkards stumbled out and the neon flickered across empty chairs, I leaned against the counter and let myself breathe, water bottle in hand.
I’d started doing the odd shift every weekend when I turned twenty-one. It was just supposed to provide some extra income while I was studying at Blue Ridge University, then my funding from the Pell Grant ran out. I simply took too long to decide on a major.
After changing my mind twice, I lost track of how much remaining funding I had and, before I knew it, it was all gone.Poof. No matter how hard I tried to catch up, I couldn’t make up for lost time.
This happened around the same time Gran’s beloved Mercury Grand Marquis which had literally survived three decades with her behind the wheel — and mowed down more than one trash can — gave its last dying breath.
When it rains, it fucking pours, and naturally, the cost of the spare parts needed to get it running again was astronomical.
Gran wasn’t allowed to drive anymore, so I considered it my responsibility to get it fixed. Which meant I rode the bus for the time being and caught rides with coworkers.
I was working almost every other night now, trying to save as much money as possible in order to eventually foot the bill for my classes again. Gran offered to cover the costs, of course. But while she wasn’t exactly struggling financially, I didn’t want to rely on her or take advantage of her generosity.
She deserved to be able to spend her hard-earned money however she wanted. I hadn’t even had the courage to tell my mother about my failure.
She would have offered to pay for my classes too, but raising me on her own had already taken its toll. I could never ask more of her, especially not because all of this was my fault.
There was no one to blame for this situation but myself. All I needed to do was persevere and work hard. I’d get there eventually. I’d successfully survived another night.
Mostly.
Mostly was enough for now.
Chapter 3
Kai
SteppingontotheBRUfield for the first time was like entering a whole other fucking universe with its own gravitational set of rules. Rules making me feel as though I had wandered into a ballet class for ants.
The turf practically glowed; it was too green to be real, radiating the kind of energy suggesting someone had paid a fortune for it, so I had better not mess it up. I drew a slow breath through my nose, trying to steady my stomach. Nerves had a sour taste to them — all metal and anticipation — like I might chuck before we even started.
Thirty blokes were already on the field, moving with the fluidity and confidence of people who had been doing this their entire lives. They yelled, clapped, and clashed.
Some were already jogging in circles with absurd ease, snapping imaginary lines of laser-like precision.
I tightened my helmet strap, gave my cleats another pointless tug, and told myself I belonged here. I hadn’tcome all this way to look like some idiot tourist who’d taken a wrong turn onto the field.
My body was ready, but my brain still lagged a step behind, which wasn’t exactly new.
Like they always used to tell me.Your legs are keen. Brain? Not so much.
My rugby instincts buzzed under my skin, waiting for the whistle to blow and the chaos to begin. But football wasn’t chaos — not the way I knew it. It was controlled, timed, and angled.
Stop, start, think.
Every movement was planned in advance. I could already feel the itch of impatience building.
Doubt started nipping at me
Christ, what was I thinking?
Oh right, Tane talked me into it.
Coach Whitaker.
It was what I had to call him now. His whistle cut through the air, sharp enough to slice the morning clean in half. His hard gaze swept the field and when it landed on me, I was struck by the familiar mixture of comfort and dread.
