Page 66 of The Perfect Pass
Jackson went still. He waited for the elation to kick in, but it never did. He’d been waiting and hoping to get this news since long before he’d ever heard of Bishop Falls. For a while there, he’d wondered if he’d ever get his life back. Now his agent was telling him that he could, but instead of feeling happy or even relieved, he just felt…empty.
“That’s great,” he said, but the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. Bishop pawed at his shin, begging for another bite of egg, and Jackson’s throat went thick. He shifted uncomfortably and let out a cough. “Send me the details and I’ll look everything over after the game tomorrow night.”
Harper let out a huff. “Jackson, didn’t you hear what I said? We have to move fast on this. If the Bulldogs don’t win that game—and let’s face it, they’ll probably lose—you’ll be terminated. You can’t expect me to negotiate a comeback under those circumstances.”
Her confidence in his team was underwhelming at best. At worst, infuriating.
He lowered his voice, lest Calla or her father overhear. “Harper, I’m not signing anything before tomorrow night. Period.”
“Don’t be difficult, Jackson. The tide of public opinion has changed, but it could easily swing back the other direction. Besides, the Cyclones are ready to get you back on the roster right away.”
“But I haven’t even been cleared off the injured reserve list,” he said. For once, he was thankful for his torn ACL. At least it could buy him a little time.
Or so he thought.
“That’s the beauty of this offer! They’re not worried about your knee. They want to fly you out Monday morning to get approved by the team trainer, but they’re willing to go ahead and ink a deal now.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This didn’t happen to veteran players like him, especially after they’d been on the brink of being cut from the team altogether. And that’s what Jackson was now: a veteran. He wasn’t the fresh-faced kid from his rookie trading card anymore.
This might very well be his last chance.
He wasn’t ready. He’d thought he’d have more time here in Bishop Falls. And he might not be that rookie anymore, but when Calla looked at him the way she did, he felt like that young man again. Full of hope and belief in the future. He’d thought football would be the thing that saved him. It was supposed to be his turning point—his chance to start over. Maybe it still could.
Finding that trading card couldn’t have been a random act of chance. It meant something. He knew it did. If he’dhad any doubts about that whatsoever, they’d melted away as soon as he’d seen the glitter of tears in Calla’s eyes when he’d told her where he found it.
But was he really supposed to gamble his entire future on whether his hastily assembled strategy would work? Even if they won tomorrow night, there was still no guarantee he’d have a job here after football season ended.
“The Cyclones want you back on the roster. This is everything you wanted when you called and begged me to get you out of there. I did it, Jackson. You asked, and I got it done.” Harper paused, and when she spoke again, some of the edge had left her voice.
“It’s time to come home.”
Chapter Nineteen
Calla took her place in the front row of the stands the following night, slipping between her dad and Bailey, just like she’d done dozens of times before. Something was different, though, and while she didn’t think it would attract much notice, given the sea of green-and-white T-shirts and jerseys surrounding her, she was wrong—completely, 1000 percent wrong.
A bright smile played across Dad’s face. “Is that—”
“Oh my gosh.” Bailey gasped the instant she saw her. “What are you wearing?”
Calla tried to tamp down the urge to smile, but she couldn’t stop it. Tonight was too special. “It’s a Bulldogs sweater.”
She glanced down at the ivory oversize, cable knit sweater with its large, green letter-Bappliqué on the front. She’d grabbed it from the closet in Ethan’s apartment yesterday in a fit of school spirit after her encounter with Jackson in the kitchen. The vintage sweater had been her brother’s favorite because it had belonged to Dad back when he’d played for the high school.
“What are you two staring at? It’s homecoming.” She smoothed down the front of the sweater as if wearing itwas a perfectly normal thing for her to do when she hadn’t worn a stitch of green and white in years. “What else would I wear?”
Bailey and Dad exchanged an amused glance.
“It pairs well with the boots,” Bailey said, gaze flicking toward Calla’s signature cherry red Luccheses.
Calla cast her a mock glare.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Dad’s voice trembled with emotion as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a tender squeeze.
“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, and darn it if she wasn’t already getting choked up before the game even started.
She drew in a steadying inhale as the band took to the field for the national anthem and the fight song. A roar went up from the crowd as Tommy Riess marched onto the turf, dressed in his football uniform while he played his trombone. The cheers were deafening. Calla wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the stadium so packed before. The cynical part of her wondered if more people than usual had turned out just to see the spectacle of the Bulldogs playing against their former starters. But the swell of support said otherwise.
A shiver coursed through her. Tonightfeltlike a homecoming, not because of the ribbons and cowbells and the smoky scent of the annual bonfire still burning at the town green, but because Bishop Falls had returned to its roots. Her article about the curse had made a real difference. Until tonight, she wasn’t sure it had, despite the surprisingly positive reaction she’d gotten from Stan. She’d quietly gone about her business all week, despite feeling like she was on pins and needles waiting for tonight. The shift caught her off guard, and all at once, she was overcome with the sort of pride in her community that she hadn’t experiencedsince she was a little girl balanced on her daddy’s shoulders in these same stands on a Friday night, once upon a time.
