Page 9 of Out of Bounds

"That’s uh…King, who’s the art professor who comes here?"

King narrowed his eyes in concentration but Adam took the cue. "That’s Mr. Ishisaka and he doesn't just skip around here. He’s looking for people to model for a drawing class."

All of them looked straight at me.

"No. Thanks though. I’m not modeling." I shook my head, amused.

Now that I found her, the obsession could stop. I’d send my apology, receive an apology in return, and get back to what was important. The Birchwood Conference. The BirchwoodBowl.

Tapping the screen, I left the training room. Adam and King followed me out, then headed towards the field amid a low argument.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" June asked.

I couldn’t lie to her. "I didn’t act like a team captain with Kassie. I was a complete dick."

It was the truth. I was the first pick for captain after our last one graduated and the first one Coach Lawson had personally selected as head coach of the Marrs University’s Romans.

New coach. New structure. New path to winning the Birchwood Bowl.

But everything was riding on how welooked. It drove me crazy. Shouldn’t football be aboutfootball?

According to Cleo, no. It was not.

June shrugged. "It happens."

"To anybody else, not with me. We’re this close," I held up my fingers with half an inch of space between them, "to winning the Birchwood Bowl this year and I can’t let stuff like this happen. The viral shit’s bad enough." I shook my head. "I shouldn’t have let her…get to me like that."

June patted my shoulder. "What’s the plan?"

"Cleo thinks an apology is in order."

"It’s not like it'll hurt your—"

"If Cleo’s panicking about it, it’s my job to panic about it too," I retorted. "We’re going to be taken seriously this season, June. No matter what. This means everything."

"You’re putting too much pressure on yourself." She sighed. "King! Adam! Don’t let him beat himself up!"

"If he wants to get pussywhipped, that’s between him and the pussy!" Adam shouted, and I rolled my eyes. "Ryan, Cross, captain, boss, boss captain, captain boss. How many times do I have to say it? Any day of the week, there’s some blue eyes I’m taking out to dinner with a friend who’d give their right arm to dowhateveryou want."

It was a game between us. Adam would say, let’s go on a double date, and I had the same answer in my pocket every single time.

"No."

"You used to be fun, dude."

"I’m still fun," I replied. A glance at the three of them made me stop. "I’m a fun guy."

Silence.

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re not supposed to be quiet when I say that."

"Captain. Boss." Adam slung an arm around my shoulder and gestured towards the empty hallway. "Yeah, youusedto be fun. And then, Coach Lawson made you captain. Now? No frat parties, no girls, no good pizza—no pizza, man. I wouldn’t be captain for all the money in the world. No goodpizza?"

Focusing on something that wasn’t the Birchwood Bowl wasn’t an option. Simple as that.

We stepped into the light mist of the morning and nobody was out running drills. Inexcusable. There’s no such thing as being too prepared. My team needed to learn what giving a hundred and twenty percent was all about.

Ah. I see Adam’s point.

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