Page 1 of A Quarterback for Christmas

Prologue

Bella

So, this is Christmas?

I’m crumpled up in a shower curtain, naked and near death, wondering just how much of my cooch my arch-nemesis saw.

Funny, from the first day I met Drew McCallister, I knew he'd be my downfall; I just didn’t realize this was how it would go.

Fire and ice. Tulle and dirt. We've always been opposites and competing for the same thing: my father's attention. Unfortunately for me, Drew could make a fifty-yard pass before his voice broke and became my dad's little pet project at the ripe old age of thirteen. Me? I wanted nothing more than to be the apple of my father's eye, but more often than not, I became the rotted core, left lying on the grass covered in maggots.

The cold tile prickles against my back, a taunting reminder I'm in Drew's house and need his help to get up. Every ounce of my dignity is gone, fallen away with the towel lying next to me. There's nowhere to go from here, so maybe I should just accept my fate and drown in this bathtub.

Is this the worst day of my life?

No.

The worst day of my life was when I met Drew because if it weren't for that day, none of this would have happened.

Screw that day, and screw Drew McCallister.

8 Years Ago

That Day

Tasting the warm summer air, I revel in the feeling of the spongy grass beneath my feet, pushing me to my destiny as I run through the quiet park. My heart beats fast, I feel euphoric, and it's not because of the endorphins; it's because I finally have my father's attention.

Most summer days, his time is divided between my mom, sister, football training, and me.

Not today.

Today ismyday.

My mom took Caity to ballet camp, and football practice doesn't start for another two weeks, so the only thing Dad can focus on is me.

Sprinkles of morning dew splash across my ankles, and my grin grows wider as I push myself harder than ever.

“Keep going, Belly,” my dad hollers from across the field, holding his phone to time my pace. My scrawny legs pound against the dirt, and I focus on the playground ahead. Two steel fence posts are calling my name. All I need to do is get to them.

This run feels different. Nothing is holding me back, and I'm determined to beat my personal best.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to beat my best time, and Dad is going to love me for it.

My heart rate spikes with each press of my foot because I'm so close.

Reaching my hand out, the metal of the pole shines in front of me. All I need to do is touch it.

Keep going, Belly.

My dad's words echo in my brain, and my heart stops when I feel the cool metal grazing against my fingertips.

Thwack.

Pain.

That's all I feel. A pounding pain ricochets through my head like a lightning bolt, and I can't think straight. Falling to the ground with an almighty thud, I twist my ankle. My teeth chatter when my chin spikes into the mud, and no matter how much I swallow, I can’t get the metallic taste of blood out of my mouth.

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