The team is buzzingwith chatter as we pile into the locker room at halftime.
I plant myself on the bench, my mind stuck on what to do. Throw the game or not throw the game. I know Ray means what he says, but I’m still struggling with my decision.
Carter drops down beside me, his blond hair stuck to his head thanks to his helmet. “Nice job out there,” he says. “We should win this too.”
We’re up by six points, and we still have the second half to play. But six points is nothing in football. One touchdown and our opponents are right back in the game.
“You’ve been quiet,” Carter says. “What’s on your mind?”
I shrug. “I’m good.”
“Pfft.” He knocks into me with his shoulder. “The last time I saw that brooding look on your ugly mug was in Greenville.”
I have to hand it to Carter for being perceptive.
The chatter is so loud I don’t hear when Sam comes into the locker room.
I jump to my feet. “How did you get past security?”
He rolls his blue eyes. “I’ve got connections.” He points to the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute outside?”
The coaches are busy talking strategy and Coach Parker won’t give us a speech for a few minutes. So I follow Sam into the hall and around a corner.
Once we’re safely away from prying ears, lines dent his forehead. “Ray Diaz is sitting next to your mom.”
I mash my lips together, grinding my back teeth. “I heard. You should go. Make sure they’re okay.” He can’t do much, but I feel better if he’s with them.
“Why is he here?” Sam asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t ask me to tell you, because the less you know, the better.”
I can almost see the wheels churning in Sam’s head. Then his eyes pop wide. “Ray wants you to throw the game? That’s the favor he’s collecting?” His voice is low. I’m not surprised Sam has jumped to the right conclusion. He’s smart as a tack.
I nod.
“Don’t, man. You’ve come so far with Coach. Don’t screw this up.”
“He’s threatened to hurt Phoebe and Emily.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, wringing his hands together.
“I have to do this. I’m not risking their lives.” I would die before I let anyone hurt them. I don’t care if I go to jail. I don’t care about football. They are what matter most.
He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Play your game. Throw a bad pass. Make it look like you’re trying, butdon’tthrow it away.”
I feel the deep crease form in between my eyebrows.
“I have an idea,” Sam says with confidence.
“Sam,” I warn. “Don’t do something stupid to risk your life.”
“Adam, when are you going to understand that I have your back? I will never let anyone hurt you or your family.”
I gulp over the lump in my throat. I know Sam has that file on Ray. But I’m not sure that’ll keep Ray from hurting Phoebe and Emily.
“Donotthrow the game.” He repeats, drilling a look at me. “Promise me.” I slowly nod, and his eyes warn me to trust him, but he jogs off before I can probe him further.
I want to stop him from doing something reckless. But Sam never does anything without thinking through every detail and the consequences. Even when put on the spot like this. I hope I don’t regret it, but I’m going to trust my buddy.
