Page 2 of Game Face

“They want you first. Just to get through the transfer questions before they get into the team business. I’ll send Wyatt in after about ten minutes, so you won’t be hanging out there alone too long.”

Bryce’s lip edges up on one side as he nods to accept her instructions, and when his gaze passes mine before he heads into the media room, every bone in my body sears with a thousand volts, as if I were just struck by lightning.

I breathe in deeply, holding the oxygen in my lungs until it burns. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a message from Peyton.

PEYTON:Just breathe.

I shake my head and laugh quietly to myself. She’s sitting in the media room, in the back. It took her about three seconds to see Bryce walk in alone and know just what to do to center me.

ME:I am. Like I told you, I’ll be fine.

She sends back a laughing emoji followed by the wordsbullshit.I heart her response. As much as I say I’m the steady one, I still have my weaknesses and insecurities. And nobody sees me better than Peyton.

“You wanna listen in?” Sonia asks.

I nod and take up the other door jamb, leaning my shoulder into it in time to hear the roar of laughter among the media in the room.Shit, he’s going to be the funny one. That makes me the serious one.Nobody likes the serious one.

“Jency, fromTheTimes.” Sonia’s assistant is running the room. She’s young, an intern. It’s good she’s getting her feet wet with pre-season media sessions. That room can get downright hostile after a game, especially if we lose a close one.

“Thank you. Bryce, it’s good to see you. Weird to see you wearing blue and red.” Jency covers all the Arizona college sports. He loved it my freshman year when Bryce and I were going to be rivals. That never manifested because Bryce red-shirted a year, which means Jency’s probably foaming at the mouth to stir up something new, now that we’re vying for the same starting spot.

“Yeah, I know. My path here was strange for sure, but I feel like I’m right where I am supposed to be. Sometimes you need to get the bumps and bruises to grow, you know?”

I spit out a quiet laugh at Bryce’s response, and Sonia gives me side-eyes.

“Sorry,” I whisper, but her scowl lingers for a few extra seconds. Her job is to keep the peace, at least according to anyone outside the locker room. She doesn’t need me throwing out grenades.

I turn my attention back to the media room and she does the same. I can’t see much other than Bryce’s left shoulder and a few of the podcasters sitting up front with their phones held out to catch every word.

“That’s a positive attitude, Bryce. I’m sure Coach Byers appreciates that. But I wonder, how do you keep that up when you’re fighting for a starting spot against one of the best senior college quarterbacks out there? Why step into that situation? You could have transferred into a situation that promised playing time, but you didn’t. Why?”

I’ll give it to Jency—he goes right to the heart of a sports story. That’s the answer I want to know too. Why, of every school that was interested, did he decide to come here?

Bryce takes a few seconds to answer, shifting his weight and moving his left arm as he scoots closer to the table. I haven’t paid much attention to his media hits over the last year, but fresh out of high school, he had quite a mouth on him. He was quick to the mic, a big fan of his own sound bites. Seems he has learned to think before speaking.

“I meant what I said about those bumps and bruises teaching me a thing or two. I’ve done a lot of self-exploration. Sitting on the bench gives you time to think.”

The reporters in the room chuckle at his quip.He’s the funny one.

“Anyhow,” Bryce continues. “Not starting as a freshman bought me a little more time, and I really thought hard about what I wanted to do with that time. I could have stepped into a mediocre squad that was desperate for a quarterback, and maybe we would have won more than we lost. I probably would have gotten some attention for doing what I could with them. But that would have been the easy route. I looked at Arizona and saw an opportunity to learn, to get better. To be part of a team that fights for every inch. One that takes practices as seriously as games. And if that means I’m playing number two to one hell of a quarterback, then maybe that’s what I need to do to step into the spotlight when it’s my time.”

The room is quiet for a few seconds after his response, until eventually, Jency utters, “Thank you,” and passes the mic to someone else. Sonia elbows my side and drops her brow when our eyes meet.

“Those are some pretty complimentary words he had for you out there.” She purses her lips just to rub it in. I take my lumps and suck in a long breath as I nod.

He said the right things. I still don’t trust him, though. Just because he spent a couple of years learning how to be polished at the mic doesn’t mean he won’t play dirty everywhere else. I’m down for a fair fight for the starting gig. It’s the deceptive shit I’ll be on the lookout for.

“When the school press is done with this question, we’ll send you out to join him.” Sonia holds the mic part of her headset close to her mouth as she mutters her plan to her assistant. I’m never nervous for the media room, but my pulse is racing now. My palms are a little sweaty too. I run them along my thighs and flex them to work out the nervous energy while Bryce rattles out a few softball answers about his idols growing up. At least he didn’t say Reed Johnson. I’m already on edge about how everyone’s going to piece our history together. Both of us having the same role model would make the puzzle way too easy to solve.

“Okay, go on out, Wyatt,” Sonia urges.

I crack my knuckles and exhale like Peyton does when she’s doing her weird yoga crap. She swears it works.

I walk into the room and take the open seat next to Bryce, and we exchange knuckles as if we’ve been besties since grade school. I can put on a show, too. The cameras catch our friendly interaction as we both set our expressions to jovial smiles, and I ready myself to be at my best for the next twenty minutes.

The first few questions are easy and obvious.

How’s the collarbone?

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