Page 93 of Playmaker

He can try, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll answer.

It’ll be too soon.

Too fresh.

Seeming to get the hint, he nods. I leave him on the hood of his car before I make a mistake and kiss him again, prolonging the inevitable.

Getting my heart broken has always been the outcome of this scenario, but I stupidly ignored it. My brother was right.Mayawas right. I should have kept that fucking guard up, but I didn’t.

When the front door clicks shut behind me, only then do I let the repercussions of my decisions fully reach the surface. My heart implodes into a thousand tiny shards just as my mom rounds the corner and sinks with me to the floor, scrambling desperately to pick them up.

Thirty-six

Cameron

It didn’t take me long to find someone with alcohol.

I texted my entire contact list, but truthfully, I would have taken some from a stranger on the street if they offered it to me. It didn’t matter who the source was, just as long as I obtained it.

FuckingMarkwas the first one to text back. He was playing poker with his friends and extended an invitation, which included free liquor. At first I didn’t dare entertain the possibility of hanging around him, but after some more thought, I figured going to Mark’s was what I deserved.

Playing poker with him and his buddies was a reminder of the type of guy Maddie could have had if I wasn’t a selfish prick. I don’t care what she claimed I was. For the second time I fucked around with her heart, so I played poker and sat next to the guy she should have given her chance to instead of me. Twist the knife a little deeper.

I deserved every ounce of pain it delivered.

And then, to top it all off, when I got so drunk I could hardly stand, Mark offered to drive me home because he was sober. He’s the good guy. The type of guy who would choose Maddie over anything else. The type of guy who isn’t hounded by the pressure of making it big and pleasing everyone else but himself.

She should have chosen him.

And now, after stealing a bottle of whiskey from my father’s liquor cabinet, I’m sitting on the same couch where she left me the first time, drinking myself into oblivion.

Christ.

I took her goddamn virginity.

She was filled with light and hope andeverythinggood the world has to offer, and in return I dragged her down into my world of misery, tainting her angel wings with hopelessness and despair.

With another long pull from the bottle, I enjoy the burn it brings as it travels down my throat. The world is tilting on its axis, threatening to pull me under, but I force myself upright to face the disappointment and regret head-on.

When my mom passed, I thought becoming a robot and feeling nothing was the worst I’ve ever felt.

But now that Maddie and I are officially done, I’m feeling everything, and that, I’ve come to learn, is far worse.

The jingling of keys echoes on the other side of the front door. I’m so drunk I fear I’m hallucinating when my dad seems to teleport in front of me.How did he get in here so quickly?

He frowns, turning on the lamp beside me. “It’s three in the morning, Cameron. What are you doing?”

“What areyoudoing?” I slur, waving my hand around. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, anywhere but here?”

Snatching the bottle of whiskey out of my hands, he sighs excessively. “I told you I was going to come back so we could discuss the routine and get you back on track. You shouldn’t be drinking.Thisis why I told you not to get involved with her.”

The laugh I release is one of disbelief. “You think I’m drinking because ofher? None of this would be happening if you didn’t give me a fucking ultimatum!” Anger courses through me, and with the addition of liquid courage, I’ve reached my breaking point. How dare he waltz in here and act as if he cares about my life. As if he cares about my well-being. The only reason he’s here is to ensure I have the best chance at being drafted.

“You know, football used to be something we loved to do together,” I continue. Now that the dam has burst, I can’t seem to close it. “It was fun, and after mom passed, I learned to love it even more because it connected me to her. Butyoubecame obsessed. My training sessions, tracking my calories, tracking my location to make sure I wasn’t partying. I let you control my life, and now—” I blink away tears. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what my dreams are. I’m in a constant cycle of pleasing you because if I don’t, if I don’t have football to connect us, I’m afraid you’ll leave for good.”

The truth comes out. My one fear—the one I can’t get rid of no matter what I do—makes its way into the void, and my father stands in front of me with the bottle of whiskey in his hand, stunned into silence.

“I understand you worked so hard to try to give me a better life, but I would rather have gone to community college if it meant you’d be home more. I could have cared less about the name brand clothes. I just . . . I just wantedyou.” My voice is gravelly from trying to hold the tears back, but when I glance up, my dad has a liquid sheen coating his eyes as well.

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