“Hey,” I answer. “Aren’t you with the team?”
“Yeah, but I went to my car so we could talk. What happened to Braden?”
“A player from the other team slammed into him. Braden fell and hurt his knee.”
“Did he return to the game?”
“No. He couldn’t. So Brock made us leave.”
“He wouldn’t even stay behind with his injured son? What an ass.”
“I know. Trystan stayed there with him. I’m guessing they’ll be home soon.”
“They won’t. They’ll go to the parties.”
“Braden won’t. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.”
“Pain is the norm when you play football. You just have to ignore it.”
“You’re in pain? Like right now?”
“There’s always something that hurts. Tonight a guy slammed into my shoulder. I thought I tore something, but it seems better now.”
“You should go home and ice it.”
“I can’t. I need to show up at the parties. Same with Braden. You go where your teammates go, and if they’re at the parties, you show up.”
“You should’ve seen Braden. He was so pissed. He claims the guy hit him on purpose. You think he did?”
“No. If it was intentional, the ref would’ve called a penalty. Running into a guy on the field happens all the time. Guys get hurt. It’s part of the game.” He pauses. “How bad was his knee?”
“I don’t know. They took him away and said he needed to put ice on it.”
“If it just needs some ice, it’s not that bad. I’m sure he’ll play in the next game.”
“Did you guys win?”
“Yeah. It was a blowout, just like yours.”
“You saw the score?”
“We keep track of all the scores on Friday nights. Twisted Pine has five minutes left but they’re up thirty-five to nothing.”
“Then they only got one more touchdown since Braden left. I guess he really is the reason they win.”
“He’s not. The team was probably just distracted after he left, worried Braden’s out for the season. They lost focus and didn’t score as much. I gotta get back to the party, but what’s the plan for tonight?”
“I’m stuck here. Brock grounded me for hitting Kristen. I’d sneak out, but he keeps checking my room to see if I’m here. I swear he’s obsessed with keeping me home. It’s like he knows about us and doesn’t want me seeing you.”
“Did he say something?”
“No, but why else would he want to lock me up in my room?”
“Are you sure he doesn’t know?”
“I don’t think so. He’d say something if he did. And he’d literally lock me in my room. Like put bars on the doors and windows so I couldn’t leave.”
“We should do something so that doesn’t happen.”
