Page 126 of The Wrong Quarterback

“Noted,” answered Jace with a grin.

Me: That was perfect. Thank you for your donation. Now enjoy watching me kick ass.

Fuck. They were going to be at the game. With Casey. I quickly typed out another text.

Me: Please make sure that Olivia and Casey’s friend are in between you and Casey at all times.

Matty snorted, and I shot him a look.

Me: Actually, take out the please. DO NOT SIT NEXT TO MY GIRL.

“So shouty,” Jace mused, and I held myself back from elbowing him because I was a team player like that.

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down, expecting it to be something else from my brothers.

But it wasn’t.

It was from my mom.

Mom: Good luck tonight, Parker. I’ll be watching it on TV with some of the nurses.

Another text followed as if that one text wasn’t enough.

Mom: I’m so proud of you.

Football players weren’t supposed to cry before the championship game. But it was all I could do to hold myself back.

Matty clapped me on the back and stood up, so his body was blocking me from most of the players in the locker room. They didn’t need to see their quarterback freaking the fuck out before the game.

I took a few deep breaths and finally typed back.

Me: Thanks, Mom.

After she’d sent me that text that day, she had accepted help. We’d agreed that she needed more than Martha could give her, and a week later we got her into an in-person care center that specialized in therapy and rehabilitation for those suffering from severe depression. She’d been in there for a few months now, and she acted and looked like a completely different person. There was always the chance that she’d relapse, but I was grateful I’d gotten this time with her. And that Casey could see her like this.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to center myself, before I tossed my phone into my locker. Done with distractions and filled with gratefulness that I had the support I did around me.

Matty and Jace both gave me head nods as we grabbed our helmets and got ready to go.

Coach Everett came in then to give us his usual motivational speech, and I stood up from my seat.

LFG.

I’d never heard the stadium this loud. It was hard to think with my ears threatening to burst.

But this was it.

We had four minutes left, we were down by four…and it was fourth down.

I was either going to fucking love the number four after this game…or I was going to hate it until the end of time.

My teammates huddled around me, their faces tight with tension, eyes locked on me, waiting for the call. I could feel everything in their stares, their trust and their desperation. We needed a touchdown to win. A field goal wasn’t enough.

But right now we needed a fucking first down.

I leaned in, keeping my voice calm, steady. “Alright, boys, this is what we play for. We know Oregon’s bringing heat on the blitz, so I need the line to hold strong. We’re gonna wear them down.” The guys nodded, a few grunted, the nerves fading as we found our focus.

“We can fucking do this,” I told them, locking eyes with them all so they could see that I wasn’t just saying it—I believed it.

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