The Love Playbook

by Suze Winegardner

Colin snarfed. “Sure, sure. As if. I’ll wear it if you do.”

  Lucas grinned. At least with Colin, he felt as if he were actually a part of the team. At his old school, they trash-talked one another mercilessly, pretty much 100 percent of the time. Here, not many players spoke to him. No one was rude or mean; they just didn’t seem interested. He mentally shrugged. Maybe that was a good thing.

  LeVonn, their linebacker with a physique to match and a previously—or maybe perpetually—broken nose, sat behind them and patted them both on the shoulder. “Colin talking about his balls again?”

  “Does he ever stop?” Lucas asked over his shoulder.

  “Nah really, man,” LeVonn agreed with the deepest southern accent Lucas had ever heard. “He got fine balls, though.”

  “So I keep hearing.” Then he turned to Colin and shook his head slowly. “I’m going to have to get myself an honest to God T-shirt press.”

  “Yeah? Well, if you fuck up out there tonight, I’m going to make you wear one that says ‘Colin’s balls are too good for me.’”

  Lucas didn’t have a snappy comeback for that. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to get his hands on the balls at all.

  He took a breath and wondered if Avery was in the crowd watching. He was determined to, at the very least, not look like an ass in front of her. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the plays from her flashcards.

  “Col, man, any news when Mr. Hernandez is visiting?” LeVonn said.

  “Nah, man, not yet,” Colin replied.

  Lucas looked at both of them. What were they talking about? It seemed like a code or something. “Who’s Mr. Hernandez?”

  Colin kept his eyes on the cheerleaders as he replied. “He’s the only scout to visit our school. He’s from Dollinger College. The dean is a friend of Dad’s. It’s a favor, really.”

  Lucas’s brain started to whir. Dollinger was a low-profile school with a scrappy underdog rep. And a scout that visited schools.

  “Maybe I’ll send him some video, man. I don’t know what’s best to do. I’ll ask Coach after the game,” LeVonn said. “I’ve got to get into a school where I can play or I’ll be at the concrete plant next summer. I need it, man.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Colin said. He looked at Lucas. “LeVonn is the third kid out of five. His older sisters are both at college, and his younger brother is some kind of math prodigy, so if LeVonn and Darius want to go to college, they’ve got to get athletics scholarships.”

  “And I’m not good at math,” LeVonn said, looking out at the cheerleaders and band on the field. “Football is all I’ve got.”

  A shiver went though Lucas, which was only partly to do with the fast-plummeting temperature. This had all seemed like a great idea when he and his mom had been moving across the state. But now that he knew some of the players, he realized just what he was doing. The Hillside Hammers could be expelled from their conference if anyone figured out who he was. He was messing with their chances of getting into a good school.

  He would never forgive himself…again.

  Panic shot through him. He should quit the team. It was all just too risky. After this game, he’d quit. Yeah. That’s what he would do. So fuck this game. He was just going to have fun. Maybe he could just keep going to practice? He’d speak to coach after. Please God, just let me have this one good game.

  He closed his eyes and thought again about what Avery had shown him. Keeping his eyes on the ball, being relaxed, and all the plays. She was talking to him, making him laugh inside. Relaxing.

  There was a roar from the crowd that turned into a wave that went around the field. His stomach twisted with tension again as the spectators stood up in turn, holding up their foam hammers.

  Well, at the very least he would keep his eyes open. He shook his head. He’d been courted by the top universities in the freaking country, and now he needed to be reminded to keep his eyes open. Was Avery there yet? He gave a half glance at the home stand behind him. He didn’t see her, but maybe that was just as well.

  Colin stood and slapped him on the back. “Huddle, man.”

  LeVonn pushed him from behind.

  Lucas got up. The cheerleaders were already tossing people around, hyping up the already excited crowd. The floodlights against the cold air lit everything in a strange Instagram-filter-yellow. The teams huddled around their coaches, getting their final instructions for the first down. Hot breath in the cold air formed clouds above the players. He jogged over with Colin.

  But instead of instructions, Coach was leading them in prayer. What the fuck? Well, no harm, no foul. He bent his head and tried to glance at the stands. Where was she?

  Coach started talking about taking strength from yada, yada, yada. He blocked out Coach’s words and looked for her. Why couldn’t he see her? And then he realized that he’d never, ever, looked for a girl in a football crowd before. Like, ever.

  Okay, enough. He wasn’t looking for anyone, and the only things that mattered were soft hands, relaxing, running, and open eyes. His brain betrayed him by flickering one last glance to the seats again.

  Colin won the toss, and they took their positions. The ref’s whistle blew, and his stomach clenched.

  …

  “I’m so excited. It’s been ages since we watched a game together,” Lexi said, clasping her free hand around Avery’s knee.

  They were tucked just above the players’ bench, in Dad’s reserved seats. She suspected strongly that it was the position of the seat Lexi’d missed rather than her company. But she’d take it. It was fun to be here with her best friend, watching…Colin. Okay, Lucas. Watching Lucas. Hoping he would do well and get some points on the board for the team.

  They stood for the national anthem, played a little awkwardly by the school band, and then the cheerleaders led them in their fight song.

  Her stomach fluttered when she looked at Lucas. At first she’d thought it was stress or anxiety, but she was beginning to think she might like him. Not that it mattered one…iota—a short SAT word, but a Greek one, and one that might prove to her father that she’d moved beyond the Es. The fact that she hadn’t learned it from her SAT prep book but from the movie Troy was neither here nor there.

  Avery had no idea why she was suddenly looking at Lucas like he was candy. So he’d maybe but probably not almost kissed her, and he’d held her hand for a second at Sonic. It had just been a mistake, an accidental touch, that was all.

  An accidental touch that lasted for at least ten seconds. Okay, like maybe three. But it’d been a long three seconds.

  And then he’d looked at her, just staring, really, all the time she was talking him through the flashcards.

  It was nothing. It was nothing. She bit her lip. Then why was there excitement in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time? Like something was about to happen. Like she was on the verge of a sneeze and was looking for the release.

  She had to stop this crap. She didn’t want to waste her precious time thinking about some guy—no matter who he was. He was a means to an end was all. He was going to save her dad’s job, and she would reclaim her forty minutes a week.

  When she’d been dating Blaine, he’d become all she thought about, but her grades plummeted to, like, a B. Except in Calc, where she’d had a C- for a few weeks. Since she started planning her day-to-day stuff, her grades had been reliable—easy As. She wasn’t going to risk falling back into the time-suck of boys.

  “Oh my God did you see that?” Lexi shouted as the crowd went nuts.

  “What did I miss?” Avery frowned.

  “Your brother passed to Danny, and he fumbled and fumbled and then caught that sucker and ran. The cornerback tried to sack Colin but tripped over his own feet when Colin dodged him. It was amazing.”

  After the huddle, Lucas walked up field to take his position for the second dow
n. Would Colin even throw to him? At least if he never got the ball, he could never drop it.

  Lexi was pointing her phone at Colin, and for the first time, Avery realized that she was actually filming her brother. She bet that would help Lucas, too. She yanked her phone out of her pocket and trained the lens on Lucas, swiping the screen to blow up the image.

  He looked jittery. That wasn’t cool. He shook his hands as if he were shaking the feeling back into them. It was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. He did a few running-on-the-spot paces, knees pumping high. A small part of her wished she could watch him all the time like this. From far enough away that he wouldn’t notice.

  Wow, now she sounded like a stalker. Awesome.

  The tension in the crowd was crackling like electricity. She panned the camera around her, marveling at how the games were seen by the town. There were people here who she knew had no kids at school; there were families from the middle school across town and men in suits from the car dealership. Ads for local businesses flashed up during the game, and the fans even had their banners made at the local print shop—20 percent off—celebrating their favorite player number. For the first time ever, it felt strange to her. It wasn’t as if their team was one of the teams whose players regularly went to the big football universities.

  “Here we go,” Lexi breathed.

  The ball was passed to Colin, and he ran backward, making the crowd gasp, before pulling his arm back and launching a perfectly arced ball toward…where Lucas wasn’t. “Oh shit,” she murmured.

  But Lucas realized what was happening and sprinted to the closing arc of the ball, snatching it out of the air like he’d freaking picked an apple off a tree. He stumbled a few steps as if he couldn’t believe he caught it.

  “Oh my God, he caught it,” she gasped.

  The whole stand stood as one and screamed “Run!” but he was already running. Holy crap, she wasn’t sure she’d ever actually seen anyone run as fast as that in real life before. His head was down, arm over the ball as he sprinted for the touchdown. She turned to Lexi and gave her an open-mouthed silent scream. Lexi grabbed her hand and screamed back loudly.

  They watched him book it down the field. She tried to hold her phone steady through her excitement.

  “No!” Lexi screamed, and a defender slammed into Lucas a couple of seconds before he reached the line. A crack echoed around the field, and the spectators’ “ooch” gave way to silence.

  The two players were on the ground, not moving.

  The cheerleaders crushed their pompoms together, looking concerned. A referee ran toward them. The other team’s defender sat up, but Lucas didn’t.

  Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

  …

  Lucas lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath. People grabbed at him, and he tried to swat them away, but he had this feeling that his arms weren’t moving. Careful hands removed his helmet. No. Fuck off. As soon as the helmet came off, it was like giving in to an injury. He’d never done that. But he couldn’t see who was taking it off.

  His head felt like it had snapped off his neck for a minute, but as the seconds ticked by, his vision returned and his arms actually connected with someone as he tried to bat them away.

  “Help me up, man!” he said.

  Coach came into view. “Sure you’re all right, son?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yeah. Just let me get up.” He reached out, and someone held his forearm as leverage.

  Lucas made a concerted effort to jump up instead of letting it appear like he was being hauled up.

  His head spun, until it didn’t. Okay. He was cool. Then he realized how many people were clustered around him. “Oh, come on. Fuck off, guys,” he said easily and was gratified to see their grins. They slapped him on the back and headed back to their huddle.

  He made to follow, but Coach held his arm. “You got the color trophy today, kid.”

  “What’s the color trophy?” he asked, confused. Why would he get a trophy for one catch?

  The coach handed his helmet back to him and pointed at the scrape of orange down the side of the pristine white Hammer’s logo. Their opponents’ helmets were orange. He must have been slammed. The face grill was dented on one side, too. It was decent war damage. “Don’t worry—I’ll get you a new one before the next game. But right now, I want you to go to the hospital, get checked out, and let me know what they say, okay?”

  It wasn’t worth arguing with any coach, let alone Avery’s dad. “Yes, sir.”

  Coach gestured to the stands and beckoned. Lucas looked up. Avery was making her way down the stairs.

  She pulled a face when she saw him. One that said, “I can’t believe you’re still alive.” He grinned. Chicks did dig scars. Coach handed a bunch of keys to her. “Take him to get checked out. See if you can find his mom there.” He turned back to Lucas. “You did good. I don’t want to risk losing you to a brain bleed or anything.”

  Avery rolled her eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked when Coach left.

  “Can we just go?” he replied, heading to the locker room.

  “I’ll wait for you in the parking lot,” she called after him.

  Damn, fuck, shit. The one time he’d actually shown the team what he was capable of and that dickhead slammed him. He didn’t even care to know how the other player was—he’d made a tackle that was totally illegal. He should be out of the damned game.

  He changed fast and met Avery outside. He slid into the front seat next to her, thankful she hadn’t turned the radio on. His head buzzed in the sudden silence after the noise on the football field. He put his head back and inhaled the flowery scent that came from the air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror.

  “Seriously—are you okay? I thought you were dead. Everyone thought you were dead,” Avery said. Her voice echoed loudly, and he tried to reply quietly, hoping it would encourage her to talk softer.

  “I’ve just got a headache,” he said. “Some OJ, and some Tylenol, and my bed, and I’ll be fine.”

  She stopped at the exit to the parking lot. “What? What’s the matter?” he half groaned.

  “I’m not taking you home. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  Nope, no way.

  “You know, you should just pull over here.” He tried to sound chipper, but he had a nasty feeling he sounded more serial killer than perky and healthy.

  “Are you sick? Shit, do you feel like you’re going to chuck?” she said, using her directional and checking her mirrors.

  “No, I’m just going to walk home from here,” he said, unfastening his belt.

  She accelerated again without checking her mirrors or, like, anything. “No way. You caught color tonight. My dad said I had to tell your mom.”

  “Let me out!” he shouted, hurting his own head. Blood pulsed in his temples.

  “Lucas. Calm down, dude. If I don’t take you to the hospital and you, like, die, my father will kill me. They’ll have town meetings about it and everything,” she said. “No one wants that. When Mr. Hendricks starts talking about health and safety, he can talk for hours. I’m not even joking. Hours.”

  He could tell she was trying to keep things light, and deep inside his throbbing head he appreciated it, but he was also convinced she was distracting him while she drove him right to the hospital. So he needed out. Needed her to leave. Needed her to be quiet.

  “I said let me out! Stop the car!” He could tell he was losing control, and somewhere deep inside his brain, he knew it was wrong. But Avery ignored him.

  Instantly, he felt stupid. What was wrong with him?

  “You see?” she said. “Look on the bright side. We go to the hospital and get you checked out. If you have a concussion, you’ll get benched for a week or two—and that will give us time to carry on with the playbook training. And if you get the all clear, then I’ll just take you ho
me and everything will be normal tomorrow.”

  Her words penetrated the humming in his head. It sounded logical, but something inside him was antsy and needed to get out of the car. He was suffocating. He undid his seat belt, and an alarm sounded in the car.

  “Turn it off,” he groaned.

  “I can’t, I’m sorry. The only way to make it go off is to put your seat belt back on.”

  He could hear the concern in her voice, and he tried to take a breath. And then another one. Maybe he was hurt. He winced as he put it back on. “Sorry,” he said, trying to sound normal. “I know I’m being a dick.”

  After a small pause, she spoke. “If you realize that, I guess you can’t be that injured.”

  He saw an opening and took it. “And if I’m not that injured, then at least just take me home so I can sleep it off in my own bed.”

  She dashed his hopes instantly. “What you don’t realize is that half the off-duty hospital staff were probably at the game. If I don’t take you, and you don’t show up, everyone will talk. And wait—didn’t you say your mom worked at the hospital?”

  “Um-hum,” he said. Yeah, there was that, too. “She’s a nurse.”

  “Then why don’t you just call her? Tell her we’re coming in and that you’re okay. She can have everything ready. We can be in and out in an hour,” Avery said as she took the turn that was signposted with a big red H.

  “I don’t have a…my phone broke,” he said, wondering why he didn’t want her to know that he just didn’t have one. His head throbbed, and he told himself that he didn’t know why he didn’t want Avery to know anything about him. But he did. He didn’t want her to know he was here because he was expelled from school. He didn’t want her to know that he lived in the worst neighborhood in town. He didn’t want her to know anything.

  “Too late anyway,” she said as she pulled in under the ER overhang.

  He turned his head to ask her to wait, but she was already out of the car and opening his door to get him out.

  Shit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Avery was worried about Lucas. He’d zoned out several times on the way to the hospital, and she was thankful he’d held it together until they arrived. She hauled him out of the car, and he laughed and then groaned. It was almost like that one time when Blaine had gotten drunk and called her to come pick him up. She’d wanted to kill him. But she was just worried about Lucas.