Page 76 of Face Me Off

I hesitate and loosen my bow tie. Damn thing’s been choking me all night. “Got plans. Why? You need a ride?”

My hands itch to pull the phone out. I sent Maddy a text asking to meet, and it just buzzed.

“Nah, I’m good.” He types something on his phone and looks back at me. “You seem to be ditching a lot. Where are you hiding out? Or should I ask with who?”

My fingers curl into fists at my side. Heading home is the logical thing to do. I won’t be good company, not with my mood. I can’t even think rationally.

“Did the doctor check your head after that last collision? Because I think you’re delusional,” I say.

But I’m the delusional one tricking myself into thinking there’s nothing wrong with keeping our relationship a secret.

And seeing Amanda look like a freaking movie star and knowing Maddy could’ve matched her while having fun by my side makes me want to hit something for copping out. I should’ve brought her. How am I being a good boyfriend if I’m constantly hiding our relationship?

Newsflash—I’m not.

That changes after tonight.

As soon as the donor’s money drops, we’re coming out. Maybe we should have a reveal party like those gender reveal parties and blast it on social media. That way, the entire campus will know I’m officially taken.

“Fine, keep your secret for now.” Easton laughs, and the sound grates on my nerves.

“There are no secrets, asshole.” But it’s me who’s the asshole. I’m beginning to see Madison’s point by not telling our friends.

It fucking blows.

Andrew pulls up in his Jeep, cutting Easton off from whatever he is going to say. Easton chuckles as he gets into the vehicle.

“Catch you guys later,” I say with a wave.

Andrew sticks his head out the window and yells, “You should come with us. We’re sure to get tons of willing participants dressed like this.”

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

“See, guys. I told you he’s getting regular pussy.” I think that came from Easton, but I can’t tell. A couple other guys are in the backseat.

“Leave before my fists give you a regular pounding,” I holler as Andrew pulls away.

The word “pussy” echoes in the night as they drive off.

Idiots.

As irritating as they can be, they’re not wrong. Though their word choices could be better. I have been sneaking around and acting secretive. It’s not by choice. I’d love nothing more than to show off my girlfriend.

But I can’t blame my mood entirely on that. Nope. The news Dad received today and my conversation with the coach at theGala is a recipe for disaster. Toss in the news I learned about Maddy and our situation, and it’s all one giant web of deceit.

Coach Howell approached me earlier, excited about the rumored invites to the combine. Apparently, the scouts like the potential they see in me. Even more than they saw when I first turned them down. Ultimately, it’s up to the NHL Central Scouting Bureau. They’re the ones who pick the players, but they do get recommendations from the NHL teams.

Not only would this be a massive break for me, but it’d also be a good look for the program. And given our program just recently joined the expanded D1 conference, it’s precisely the kind of publicity the school needs.

But here’s the fucking kicker, there isn’t any possible way for me to go. So not only am I disappointing myself, but I’m also letting the entire fucking program down.

Go fucking me.

But I have duties. I’m responsible for my dad. What kind of shitty son would I be if I left him high and dry?

Just today, Dad received another letter from his lawyer. Mr. Grimes turned down our last counteroffer, and now we are just waiting for the court date, which will be sometime in the first quarter of next year.

Isn’t that nice? I may or may not know if we’ll have the income for me to attend college let alone the combine.

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