I shrug out of my T-shirt when Carter lifts his head from untying his cleats. “What’s going on, hoss?”
I open my locker, which is right next to his. “The Bears want to see my tapes.”
His mouth drops open. “Fucking A. That’s awesome.”
The locker room chatter dies.
Carter stands up on the bench. “A round of applause for hoss, our illustrious QB is being scouted by the Bears.”
The room explodes with guys banging on the lockers and hooting and hollering and throwing out compliments. I barely hear my phone ringing on top of my wallet in my locker.
I want to join in on the celebration, but I need to make sure it isn’t Mom calling about Phoebe. I know it’s not my burner phone. I tuck that baby away in a secret compartment under the back seat in my truck where not even Sam would find it. I don’t keep Ray’s phone on until I’m getting ready to hit the streets. He insists I check in with him before I unload my supply. I usually drop by the car repair shop on most nights to pick up my inventory anyway. I try not to keep that shit on me if I can help it.
Seeing Sam’s name on the screen, I immediately answer. The panic coursing through me makes my hands shake.He never calls me. He’s usually tutoring, at the library, or immersed inMortal Kombat, at this time of day, which only means something happened to my sister.
My heart splinters as I say, “What’s up?”
The guys are loud, causing me to stick my head in my locker to hear Sam.
“You better get back to the dorm.” His tone is laced with worry. “Emily, man. She’s here.”
I check on the guys around me, making sure no one is listening. My gaze is bouncing around the room like a ball that got away from a basketball player. The last thing I need is for Coach Parker lurking in the shadows. He’s been known to listen in on our convos as we talk after practices.
“Adam,” Sam practically shouts through the phone.
With the coast clear, I stick my head back in my locker. “Are you telling me...”
“Yes, Emily Parker,” Sam confirms. “Please, get over here now. She’s...she’s strung out on something and stinks of alcohol.”
Fuuuck!
I hang up, making quick work to shower and dress. As I do, the guys are giving me high-fives for the scout news and saying congrats. But all I hear is Emily Parker is strung out, and my gut twists and churns. I don’t have time to think.
Coach Parker is so going to have my balls staked in the end zone for sure if he finds out about this.
I’m hurrying the fuck out when Carter catches up to me. “You look like you lost your lunch, hoss.” His blue eyes are swimming with concern. “Everything okay?”
Fuck no.
I’m about to puke up the big bowl of chicken pasta I ate earlier.
“I need to call my mom. She left me a message, and I want to be sure my sister is okay,” I lie.
Fucking drugs. I don’t take them, but my actions in some ways sure reflect that of a stoner as the lies keep coming.
“We’ll talk later,” I holler as I’m hoofing it to my truck.
Thankfully, Carter is cool and knows my family is important. “We’ll celebrate this weekend,” he shouts at my retreating form.
It’s too soon to get excited about the Bears. Sure, I’m fucking over the moon that a team is biting, but that’s just it—they’re only biting.
But the Bears, football, school, and everything else vanish as I rush into my dorm room ten minutes later. The room reeks of booze as I inhale second-hand alcohol fumes.
I take in the sight of Emily, and my fucking heart disintegrates, knowing I’m the one who has helped do this to her.
She’s curled up on my bed, wiggling her arms and legs about, as if she’s dancing horizontally. Her gorgeous strawberry blond waves are a mess around her face. Her bare legs are tanned and toned beneath her tiny white shorts. I can’t help but let my gaze roam wild and free until my eyes land on her tits poking out of a clingy top.
Sam vaults off his desk chair. “It took you long enough.” He’s whispering.
