I tried to not look for him or the recruiters in the crowd tonight. I wanted to focus solely on my game. Hearing Mr. Anderson say I played a good game puts me instantly on cloud nine. This was the third set of recruiters he’d invited to watch me play, and I’ve had verbal offers from each school so far, with Ohio State being my top choice.
"You made me proud." He grips my shoulder, and damn, hearing that from him makes my confidence grow.
It’s nice to have someone be proud of me.
Having Max Anderson around the last few years has worked wonders for my game, and I think he’s the reason I got to be the player that I am. But now that Austin and I spend no time together, I don’t see his father as often as I used to, so he has my full attention whenever he’s in the room.
"That’s rich," Austin’s voice seethes from behind us as his father quickly removes his hand from my shoulder. "Pathetic. Just because your daddy didn’t stick around, it doesn’t give you free rein to mine." His words cut deep, but I don’t let him see it.
"Watch it, boy,” Mr. Anderson warns his son, but Austin hasn’t been intimidated by his father in a long time.
"Whatever, Max," he mutters before shoving his gear into his bag and rushing out the door.
Rolling my eyes, I take my time. I refuse to match his energy. If he’s so happy to lose ten years of friendship over a girl, then so be it.
But she’s not just any girl, is she?
"See you, Coach," I say over my shoulder, preparing to the leave the locker room.
"You played well today, kid. Don’t let that boy get in your head."
"I won’t," I assure him as I make my way toward my mom’s old, rusty car.
"Harley, please wait." I hear Cassandra’s voice from behind me.
My steps falter, but I don’t stop.
I don’t want to hear what she has to say. I don’t need to hear all about her prom night with Austin.
How she’s happy with him.
I just wish it was me she was happy with.
twenty-nine
Harley
"Why are we here?"Cassandra asks with a smile on her face as she stares up at the bleachers.
Picnic blanket and cooler bag in tow, I place the bag with ice cream on the ground and shake out the blanket while she grabs two corners to help flatten it before we sit.
"It was my favorite place growing up. Where I used to come to think. Pre-game, post-game, weekends. Even holidays," I reply while digging into the freezer bag for my mint chocolate chip ice cream, and Cassandra’s weird as fuck combination.
I remember when we were sixteen, the four of us went to get ice cream and Bea casually let me know what her best friend’s favorite ice cream combination was, in case I ever needed it.
I guess I never forgot what it was.
I even ordered it once and regretted it after the first bite. The worms were frozen solid.
"I was standing right over there when I passed Austin what would have been the championship winning ball. If only he’dcaught it." I nod to the left of the field and chuckle to myself at the memory. We lost the title of champs in our senior year because he fumbled the ball under pressure, yet he blamed me for a bad throw. Somehow, he convinced everyone we lost because of me.
The scouts didn’t think so, though. And to me, that was the most important.
"His dad was furious at him for missing such an easy catch," she says, recounting her version of events. She and Austin had been together for a year at that point, so I assume she knew Austin and Max’s relationship well.
"He was so hard on him all the time, but over the years, I learned that Max Anderson was just… not a good guy." She shudders.
Obviously, she knew their family dynamic better than anyone, so she saw what Max Anderson was like behind closed doors.
