Page 2 of Fair Catch
“I’ve lost my legs, sis. I can’t lose football, too.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, releasing two hot tears that burned like lava.
“I know this is a lot to ask. But I also know you’d feel more powerless if I wasn’t asking you for anything, if there was nothing you could do.”
My heart lurched at that, at how well he knew me, how true that statement was.
“Just… try. If you don’t make the team, I’ll drop it.”
“What if I make the high school team, but not college?”
He shrugged. “At least you tried.”
I swallowed, something of a smile tugging at the corner of my lips as I shook my head before looking at my twin again. “Not everyone is going to be okay with this, you know.”
“I’ll kill anyone who isn’t. And whoever I can’t handle, Zeke will.”
My blood ran cold at the mention of his best friend — a title I very much believed should be stripped after what he did.
And as if my brother conjured the devil himself, there was a soft rap of knuckles on the door frame, and Zeke popped his head in with a shamed smile where he usually sported a cocky grin. He wore a flat-billed hat backward over his black fade, and even in the baggy sweatpants and long-sleeve shirt he wore, I could see the definition of his muscles, thick and lean from years of playing football.
And his legs worked just fine, carrying him into the room so easily it made me grind my teeth.
“Hey, man,” Gavin said, lighting up at the sight of him. “You bring the goods?”
“You know I’d never let you down,” Zeke replied, holding up the brown bag of greasy burgers from my brother’s favorite place.
I snorted, standing and already heading for the door. “Not sure that’s an accurate statement anymore.”
Zeke’s shoulders slumped at my remark, and Gavin gave me a look, to which I gave one right back like what?
I turned to leave, but Gavin called out for me. He didn’t have to ask again when I turned to face him, when I saw the desperation in his eyes.
“Okay,” I said simply.
He thrust his fist into the air, and Zeke cocked a brow, glancing between us. “What did I miss?”
“Riley’s going to take my place.”
Zeke’s other eyebrow lifted to join the first one.
“She’s going to try out for the team.” He paused. “And make it. Because obviously.”
At that, Zeke smiled, his warm brown eyes finding mine. “We’ll have the best kicker in the state.”
That smile snuck under my skin like a parasite, one that made me want to scratch his eyes out. And yet, even with anger simmering low in my belly, I still saw the boy I’d grown up with when he smiled like that. I saw one of our first friends, our best friend, someone I knew without a single doubt in my mind I could trust.
Or so I thought.
I ignored him, speaking only to my brother. “I agree to try.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” Gavin said.
Then, he held out his pinky.
My heart thumped loud in my ears as I stared at that outstretched finger, doubt whispering into the depths of my soul. But I reached out anyway, hooking my pinky around his and pulling tight.
I promise.
With my brother far too smiley for his situation, I turned for the door, but Zeke slipped his hand into the crook of my arm to stop me.
That motion alone would have, even just weeks ago, made my heart flutter. It would have made my neck heat and my pulse race, would have made my sixteen-year-old knees so weak I’d have likely collapsed into a heap of bones at his feet.
Now, it made me grimace.
“Hey, if you want to run drills, I can help you get ready for tryouts.”
I ripped my arm from his grasp, leveling my murderous gaze with his.
“It’s your fault my brother is in this situation at all, you irresponsible, selfish prick,” I seethed. “So, the only thing I need from you is for you to go back in time and never be born.”
“Riley,” Gavin tried, but I held up a hand to silence him.
“I can’t keep you away from my brother. That’s his choice. But as for me?” I sneered, pointing my finger right into his chest. “Stay far away from me, Zeke Collins.”
With that threat, I left my brother and his sorry excuse for a best friend behind me.
And I got to work.
Two years later...
Riley
With my duffel bag slung over one shoulder, I wrangled my thick hair into a high ponytail and pulled tight. That one simple adjustment was a signal to the rest of my body, to my brain.
It meant it was time for business.
Summer was still thick in the air, though there were whispers of fall on the soft breeze rolling through the North Boston University campus. I savored its touch as I walked the short distance from my temporary dorm room over to the stadium, cracking my neck in eager anticipation of the first day of fall camp.
