“I don’t even know if he’ll play,” Avery said in a small voice.
“Even if he doesn’t, we’ve won games before he turned up. We can win this one, too.” Colin took a roll of washi tape from her desk and started throwing it up in the air and catching it again. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell Dad about Mr. Duchamp.” He paused. “Yeah, okay, I guess I can.” He blew out a puff of air.
“Look, he’d never admit it, but Lucas is probably just waiting for Mr. Hernandez to show up. Just like LeVonn. But Dad hasn’t even mentioned if he’s coming this season. You know, if you want to make good with Lucas and have him see that you’re actually kind and not selfish and manipulative, then why don’t you talk to Mr. Hernandez? Or email him or something?”
Their dad called for Colin. With a roll of his eyes, he stomped out of her door and down the stairs like a herd of cattle heading to be fed. Colin was a complete ass, like, 95 percent of the time, but maybe, just maybe, this time he had the answer.
She sat at her desk and hit her head purposefully against the keyboard. No. Not everything was gone. Lucas was gone, and her planner was gone. Lexi was still here, her family.
What’s left of my family.
The notebook he’d brought her smiled up at her from the desk where she’d left it the night before. Damn it. She had to take action. She refused to sit by and just let Lucas think she was a horrible person. She was going to put together footage of LeVonn and Lucas and send them to Mr. Hernandez. No, not just Mr. Hernandez, but a bunch of college scouts.
Lucas hadn’t talked about college, but surely a guy that into football would go if he had an athletic scholarship. He’d made so much progress the last couple weeks. He was totally good enough to get the attention of a scout.
She opened Facebook, went to Brady’s Balls, and started copying some of the videos posted to the page. She’d get the email addresses she needed from her father’s laptop downstairs.
This was going to fix everything. She could feel it.
Once she’d sent the emails, she felt better. Like she had put something positive out in the world. For the first time in weeks, she felt calm, without any anxiety peering at her from around the corner. She’d shared the horrible burden of their dad maybe losing his job with Colin, the team was poised to make the playoffs, and she’d done something good for two boys who meant the world to her.
Even if Lucas still hated her, even if he thought she was the worst person in the world, at least she could help him get a tryout at a decent college. Maybe one day he’d forgive her.
…
Lucas spent his Sunday at Hardy’s Hardware, helping the boss clean up. The town had provided huge dumpsters for every building that had been hit—which had included Hardy’s, one of the buildings at the clinic, a warehouse directly behind Hardy’s, and a few houses behind that. When he’d seen the footage on the TV, he’d marveled at the clean line of destruction it had made through that tiny part of town. It was amazing that they’d managed to ride it out in the stockroom.
His mind kept going back to Avery, the things they’d shared, her expression when they’d been holding on to each other. That part of her felt true. He wasn’t sure about the rest. On a base level, he knew that he’d seen the real Avery, but it didn’t really make a dent in the feeling that she’d lied to him.
His own hypocrisy was killing him. He was lying to her about who he was. Technically, his name was actually Lucas Black—his mom had changed their names back to her maiden name when they moved—but he wasn’t ready to tell anyone his truth. Not now, and probably not ever. He shouldn’t have gotten close to anyone, let alone the girl he had fallen for. Her judgment and horror over what he risked would kill him.
He threw piles of sodden drywall into the dumpster with maybe more force than it warranted, but it felt good.
Toward the end of the day, Mr. Hardy sent him home. He walked slowly back to his neighborhood, wondering what he would do when he got there to take his mind off his whole freaking life.
Every step led him further down his rabbit hole. He shouldn’t have done any of this. When his mom had driven them three days across the state, it had felt like he was entering a different world. A world that wouldn’t possibly know about an eighteen-year-old kid who’d fucked up at school. No one knew him, and the chance of anyone putting Lucas Black and Lucas Westman together had been as remote as him landing on Mars.
But he’d been so filled with the feeling that life had been unfair to him that he was willing to turn a blind eye to the fact that he was still doing the wrong thing. It was a different wrong thing, but he’d felt like he deserved the chance.
He didn’t.
But in his self-righteous haze, he’d pressed on. It had felt like a good idea when he hadn’t known anyone whose life he was affecting. And once he did know, he’d convinced himself that the risk was worth the benefit to the team.
How could he be so selfish?
Avery and Colin had been through much worse than he had. Much worse. And they just got on with life without doing anything just because they felt like life had been unfair to them.
Hell, Avery had just been trying to ensure her family didn’t have to endure another loss.
Lucas stopped in his tracks.
What he did now would determine the rest of his life. He couldn’t go bounding between morally dubious actions because his father left him, and because he liked the adulation of being a winner or because it wasn’t fair that the college had gotten away with what they’d done and he hadn’t. Life was shit. Life wasn’t fair. But his shit, unfair life had brought Avery into it. And she was literally the best thing that had happened to him in the past few years.
He had to do the right thing for once, regardless of the consequences.
He was going to suck up the shit storm.
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pulled out his phone, and called Coach to make an appointment to see him Monday.
There was no backing out now. He was going to man up.
Finally.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Avery had spent Sunday afternoon and most of the evening at Lexi’s. They’d watched movies, did some archery in the backyard, and had dinner under Lexi’s dad’s watchful eye.
Lexi had been all about pinning a picture of Lucas to the archery board, but it had been easy to dissuade her since neither of them had a photo.
They were about to help clean up after dinner when Avery’s dad texted her, asking her to come home. It was unnerving.
Firstly, he texted her, which he’d never done before. Secondly, he didn’t call her kiddo or Cookie or anything. The pit in her stomach said he’d probably found out about her emails. That was a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t as if it was the end of the world. If they liked the look of Lucas’s game, then they’d contact her dad to come look at his players. Oh…maybe that was why? Maybe one of them had called her dad because they were interested. Her heart jumped in her chest.
There was a car in her driveway when she got back, so she parked in the street.
“Dad?” she shouted as she opened the door.
“In here,” his voice came from the dining room.
She went in to find him and another somewhat-familiar man sitting opposite one another around the table. The other guy stood. “Miss Avery,” he said and nodded before sitting down.
She had a flashback to her coming home from school to the same scene, except her father had been sitting opposite Mrs. Garcia from across the road. They’d told her that her mom “had passed.”
“Passed what?” she’d asked.
“Dad?” she asked, looking between the men, not understanding what was happening. “Has something happened to Colin?” she whispered.
The man stood again. “I should go. I’m sorry, Pete.”
Her dad just nodded.
Avery we
nt cold. Her father waited until the door had closed before looking at her again.
“Did you email the head football coaches from five of the top universities, including Oglethorpe?” He said the word as if it defied belief that she’d email his alma mater. He rose from the table.
Oh shit. “I did. I’m sorry. I got the email addresses from your computer…” She should apologize, but what she really wanted to know was who was interested in which boy.
Her dad was silent, but he was virtually vibrating with fury.
Suddenly, she was scared. “What did I do wrong?” she said. “I only did what a parent or a friend or a coach would do.”
“Those email addresses don’t go to just one person at each university. Brant, who just left, told me that all twenty people in his coaching team saw the video. One person recognized ‘Lucas Black’ from the video.” He used air quotes around his name. “Lucas Westman has been banned from soliciting places on college teams. Did you know that?” he asked through his teeth, barely holding onto his temper. “He’s also been banned from playing on a high school team. Did you know that, too?”
A bad feeling let itself in the door and took a seat at the table between her and her father. She recognized the entrance, and coldness invaded her bones. “Who’s Lucas Westman?”
“Someone who was discovered taking bribes from MFU to sign to their team. Someone who was run out of his town before he came here. Someone who changed his name so he wouldn’t be traced. Someone who made a play for the coach’s daughter no doubt hoping she’d help him get to college to play football under a fake name.”
He paced in front of her while the world dropped out from beneath her. She actually looked down, almost sure that she was perched on a rapidly disappearing carpet.
“Did he ask you to do this?”
“No,” she said. “No! He’s a good player. I figured if a couple of coaches saw some video, they’d at least want to come see him play.”
Wait. Why she was defending him? Hadn’t he just been using her, in a much worse way that she’d been using him?
How had she not seen this? Lucas was about fifteen levels out of Blaine’s league, and if Blaine thought she was below his league, why would Lucas think she was…
Oh my God. He’d been faking it. She wanted to die. He’d lied to her for weeks, and she hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t wanted to see it.
“Well, one of Brant’s coaches contacted the NCAA, and this has exploded way out of my pay grade,” he said. “I’m in trouble now, too, Avery. Because the video you sent is of Lucas Westman playing on my team, they think I’ve broken the rules, too. I’m under review—Brant was here to let me know. I could lose my job here in Hillside.”
Avery couldn’t process any of this. “What? No. I’ll tell them it was me. I’ll tell them—”
“Really? You want it all over the sports news that you thought you were dating a banned player and you broke the rules for him? That kind of story will follow you forever. Every job you take, every paper you publish at college, every guy you start dating, it’ll all be there. ‘Silly, naive girl gets taken for a ride by career liar.’ I can’t let that happen to you. I can’t.” He shook his head, defeat slumping his shoulders. “We’ll move somewhere. Out of state. I can explain in a job interview what happened, but I won’t put it out there in the media.”
“Why didn’t the principal— How could he have not known?” she spluttered, grasping at straws.
“Lucas hasn’t been here more than a month or so. They received his academic report from his last school, but he’s still waiting on his full report. None of that lets you off the hook for this.”
He walked quietly into the kitchen, the door swinging silently behind him.
She wanted him to shout and get it over with. She wanted to shout, too. Her father could lose his job? After all she’d tried to do to save it? They might have to move states? Lucas had lied to her? Tried to make her fall for him? Almost had sex with her? Her blood went cold. If they had dated just a few weeks more, she totally would have had sex with him.
Something inside her crumbled to pieces. She couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t believe that she fell for the obvious bullshit. It was obvious. All the way around. Her whole life, no football player had ever looked at her. Why had she fallen for it? Anger injected itself into the hole in her heart. Instant fury.
She was in the car before she realized she had no idea where he lived. It was the last in the line of the things she didn’t know about him. She texted Colin for Lucas’s address and reversed out of the driveway.
He’d destroyed his own family, and not content with that, he’d destroyed hers, too. He was toast. Fucking toast.
…
Lucas wanted another pillow to hold over his head, because the cheap thin one he had wasn’t silencing the quiet sobs coming from the kitchen. She wasn’t screaming or wailing. It was worse. Just quiet, persistent crying. And it was his fault. It was always his fault.
He’d told his mom that he was going to come clean to Coach. And as usual, his great, inspired plan hadn’t taken into consideration her life or her plan.
He’d be expelled, probably. Maybe it was too late for that shit. He just needed to leave and get a job. Then figure out how to study for a GED once he’d brought in some money.
He sat up. He was right. As soon as he talked to Coach, he’d leave. Give his mom plausible deniability—wasn’t that what they called it?
He looked around his room. He didn’t have much except for clothes. He didn’t even have anything bigger than a sports bag to use as a suitcase. He laughed to himself. When you were so poor you didn’t even have a decent bag to run away with… He put his head in his hands.
The doorbell rang, and his heart sank. He lay back, hoping his mom would send whoever it was away. He heard the door open and then immediately realized that he should have answered the door. He should have spared his mother showing her tears—over him—to whoever was there. What if someone had found them? What if it was the media again? At Henderson, the local news vans had camped outside their house, at least until the Texas governor had said something stupid, then Lucas had all but been forgotten.
He reached for his bedroom door so he could protect his mom from the onslaught, but he heard the front door close. His mom must have gotten rid of whoever it was.
He sat back on his bed and stared at the floor. He had to go. He had no choice. He had to find a job for himself somewhere far, far away. He just needed a bag. He held his head in his hand. He sighed and dragged his gear bag over to the bed. He could fit some changes of clothes in there. It’d have to do.
The bedroom door burst open, and he jumped up. Avery.
“What did you do?” she asked between gritted teeth. “Who are you? Who are you really?”
He sank back on the bed. “What?” He couldn’t deal with seeing her. “What are you even doing here?”
“You accused me of lying to you and using you, and then I try do something nice for you, and it turns out you’re not Lucas Black, you’re Lucas West…something.”
“Westman,” his mouth said automatically, while his body and brain had all but shut down. How could she know? How could she know before he told Coach?
“I don’t care. I just don’t care!” she shouted. “You made me think I was the worst person in the world last night. And in less than twenty-four hours, I realize that it’s you who’s the worst person in the world.” She was so angry she was shaking. Or maybe that was just him shaking?
“My dad has probably lost his job because of you. We’ll probably have to leave the state in order for him to get a new job. You think I would have sent your game footage to colleges if I’d known? Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice had got louder and louder, and through it, he realized that his mom had stopped crying.
And then he took in what Avery had said.
> “What? You sent off footage of what? What did you do?” As soon as he finished asking, he knew exactly what she’d done. He should have known that someone like Avery—a fixer, a carer—would have done something to try to make things up to him. To do something good. Half of him loved her for it. Half of him just wanted to get away from the roiling emotions inside.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” he said quietly.
“No, you didn’t.” Her voice was sarcastic. “But you did seduce your coach’s daughter. What did you figure? That eventually you’d be having Sunday lunches with us? That, what, in maybe a month or so, he’d call a scout down to look at you? Did you ever even need my help? Did you ever even”—she hiccuped as if she were trying not to cry—“even like me?”
All he wanted to do was to drag her into his arms. He couldn’t bear the hurt in her face. Her whole body vibrated with anger and humiliation and pain.
He wanted to deny everything, to reassure her, to make her smile again. Anything to make her smile again. But his gaze caught on his bag. He was leaving. Leaving was the right thing to do. He’d wrecked everything he cared about. It was a new record for him. Usually, it took years for people to hate and shun him.
“You should go.” It was all he could say. He would be out of town before Monday evening anyway.
Her face fell, her lip trembled, and her chin popped up. She pointed at him for a second. “I see you now. I might not have ever known your name, but I see who you are.” She nodded and then left. Her footsteps were even and unhurried as she went down the stairs. The front door opened and shut quietly.
Everything good inside him left with her. What had he done?
He emptied his bag and started putting clean clothes in it, a couple pairs of shoes, and he made a mental note to pack some laundry detergent. His anger dissolved as he started packing. Every T-shirt that went in his bag represented another day without Avery.
He sighed. Maybe he’d write a letter of apology for her before he left. He didn’t know if that would be better for her or not. Would she rest easier if she knew he hadn’t used her, not for a second, or would it be better if she thought he was a total bastard and forgot about him?
The Love Playbook Page 21