Knowing I would talk to Gray when they were back about what Onyx had said calmed my fears. We didn’t need these secrets between us. Secrets had caused too much damage. As I made up my mind to be honest with him when he came back from the game, I settled back as I listened to his voice. Hearing his laughter made everything ugly that Onyx had said melt away.
I had endured enough ugliness and darkness; Gray Santo was my light.
Chapter 31: Gray
We lost.
Jett and I were still reeling. This team was easy. We should have won. We should have won, and we should have won well.
Everything had gone against us. Every call, every fumble, every fucking turnover. Kowoski hadn’t even played badly. Luck just hadn’t been on our side. Ash got tackled more than any other player on the field. The defense even went for him more than Kowoski — and Ben was the goddamn quarterback.
“We can still make the championship game,” Jett said to me as we watched our offense come off the field.
“We play ‘Bama next after the bye,” I reminded him. “I need this splint off.”
“Your hand’s broken, but my shoulder will be better.” Jett turned to me. “Let’s go motivate the team. We cannot let this beat us down.”
In the locker room, the defense was already stripped and heading for the showers, Coach was yelling at some poor fucker, and we turned to see our cousin coming in with his head down and his shoulders sagging. Looking up, he met our stares before he kicked a bench out of his way.
“What the hell was that?” he asked us angrily. “What a fucking shitshow.”
“It was an odd game,” Jett said, and we both looked at him incredulously.
“It was a freak of nature, where was the defense?” Ash asked angrily over our heads toward the showers. “What the fuck, Woods, you couldn’t even tackle today.”
Jamie came out of the shower like a raging bull, regardless ofthe fact that he was stark naked. “You’re not blaming my defense. Where the fuck was the offense? Oh, that’s right, sitting on the fucking bench.”
“The offense is not just me and Jett,” I snapped back at him. “Look, everyone, calm down and, Jamie, for fuck’s sake, can you cover it up? I’m sitting right here.”
Ash snorted as I made a show of moving away from Jamie’s limp dick.
“Everyone get showered and dressed,” Jett said to the team. “We can discuss strategy and where we went wrong on the bus. It’s a setback, it’s not the end of the season.”
Grumbles and mutters filled the locker room as we sat side by side. Coach walked down to sit across from us.
“How’s the shoulder?” he asked Jett.
“Needs a few more days, but I’ll be fine Wednesday, maybe Tuesday.”
“Docs will look at you Monday.” Coach turned his head toward me. “Pain?”
“No.” His eyes narrowed. “Slight discomfort.”
“Can you catch a ball?”
I sat back and looked between him and Jett. “Honestly? If he only throws it to my left, maybe. Probably. I do like a one-handed catch. Passing, same. You’ll need to move Ash to the right-hand side; I’m more likely to incomplete if I have to run to the right.”
“We could work on your wide receiver skills,” Coach mused. “You can catch well, move Lopez to the RB for the next game.”
“Against ’Bama?” I asked him skeptically. “He isn’t me, and I’m not that good a wide receiver. If I were, I wouldn’t be your best running back.”
“You take too many hits and land on your hand, and it’ll be more than a few breaks.”
“I could promise not to run and flip?” I said with a sly grin to Jett, who was frowning as the conversation continued.
“Why the hell did you both get injured at the same time?” Coach asked as he pushed up to his feet.
“Bad luck.” We both answered at the same time.
