Page 5 of The Star

“Are you still going to Franklin?”

I wipe underneath my eyes, my fingers coming back smeared with black mascara. Shaking my head, I meet my best friend’s gaze. “My dad is enrolling me at Luxington High. I start after Labor Day Weekend.”

two

CARSON

Sweat is dripping down my forehead, but I don’t stop pushing my legs to keep going.Forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven.I count the stairs every time my Nike’s hit the metal, every time I hear a faint stomp from my foot even through the music blasting through my Beats.

My chest heaves, but I don’t stop. I push myself to keep going. I get to the top of the bleachers and turn around to go back down.

Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four.

By the time I reach the bottom, I’m deep into the nineties and I feel my head start to spin from the heat. I slow my steps once I’m back on the concrete and walk over to the coolers at the edge of the football field.

Everyone left practice an hour ago, but it’s my job to be the best so I stayed – like I always do. Suicides, running, lunges across the field, then finishing with the bleachers, per usual.

It’s a routine I can do with my goddamn eyes closed.

But no matter how many times I’ve punished my body with the extra workout, my veins still bulge under my flesh while my lungs burn from the cool evening air.

I grab my water bottle from the bench, squeezing it just above my mouth until it runs dry.

Hydration is key.

Hydration and pushing your body to the breaking point, I guess.

But it isn’t a choice for me, it’s my fucking life. I have to be the best, I have to get the attention of scouts if I want to play college ball and eventually go pro like my dad planned. Even though I’m the best QB Luxington has ever seen, I still need to bebetter.

It’s ingrained in my soul – I must be outstanding. Top of the totem pole, first-class, boss, captain and chief.

Best athlete with the hottest cheerleader on my arm, most wanted and most admired. It runs through my veins, burning deep in my chest. I need to be number one because that’s what my dad was.Number fucking one.

* * *

“Dude, you look like shit.” Hayden drops down on the couch next to me, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Thanks,” I groan as I stretch my legs out in front of me, resting them on the glass coffee table sitting in the center of my living room.

He snickers, pulling the cigarette from between his lips and sliding it behind his ear. “Hitting training pretty hard, huh?”

I slide my phone from my pocket, unlocking it and clicking on Instagram to mindlessly scroll. “Yep. Where’s Levi?”

He stands, a sigh slipping from his mouth as he pulls the cigarette from behind his ear. “Should be here any minute. I’m gonna smoke.”

I flick my eyes to his retreating form. “Don’t smoke by the pool again, dude. My mom’s gonna kill you.”

He slides out of the patio doors with a careless laugh. “Your mom loves me.”

I roll my eyes to myself and heave a heavy breath, attempting to relax my aching muscles, slouching into the couch like a lifeless doll. My relaxation is short-lived, though, because a moment later, the front door swings open. My mom appears in the doorway, hands filled with shopping bags, and when I don’t get up to help her, she calls out to me.

“Carson!” she singsongs, “Honey, could you give me a hand with these bags?”

I lock my phone, throwing it down on the table before I stand to make my way to the foyer. Reaching out to grab the endless amount of bags, I peek inside some of them as curiosity gets the best of me.

“What is all this stuff?” I lug the bags next to the bottom of the staircase, dropping them down on the marble floor.

I meet a set of eyes that are crystal blue and clear, and my mother’s face spreads into a huge smile. “Gary proposed!”

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