Austin shifted his helmet from one arm to the other. “Please tell me she has an older sister.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “You like Reagan.”
“That I do, but I can look.”
“Anyway, Montana said to her mom, and I quote, ‘Someone saw you in the grocery store yesterday. They know you’re here.’ Odd. Right?”
“Her mom is hiding from someone?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, and I threatened Montana to drop football, or I would blab about her mom. Yet I really don’t know anything about her mom.”
He chuckled. “Dude, you’re messed up. But that’s what I love about you.”
“Yeah, we were made for each other.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve done some research on her mom and Montana but can’t find anything on the Internet.” Not that I’d expected to, especially if her mom was in the FBI or CIA, although I doubted she was employed by either organization. The way Montana had sounded led me to believe her mom was running from someone or something, maybe an ex-lover or the federal government or the law in some state.
The team, Austin, and I gathered on the field and started in on our stretches and pre-warm-up routine.
Austin bent his upper torso over his legs so that his hands were touching his cleats. “Tell Montana you were eavesdropping and ask her about her mom.”
I joined Austin doing the same stretch, and the entire team followed suit. “Seriously? I’m trying to get her to not try out. The chick is stubborn.”
“Here’s an idea,” he said. “Ask her out. Get on her good side. Then she’ll not only come clean about her mom, but she’ll give up on football. You’ve always been good about weaving a spell that chicks fall for.”
I grunted as we continued stretching. Maybe he was right. I should ask her out for many reasons other than football. Or maybe I should let the cards fall where they might, although I wasn’t ready to ask her out. If she said no, I would only become more of a dick, and if she said yes, then I would be breaking my no-girls rule and could set myself up for heartache. The latter scared me more than her on the team.
Coach Holmes jogged out from the sideline then blew his whistle. “Listen up. After a discussion with the administration, Montana Smith will be trying out.”
“No way,” Derek said on my left.
Austin laughed.
I scowled.
The rest of team complained.
Coach blew his whistle. “Enough. With Adler gone and Cruise hurt, we could use a good kicker. That is if she can kick.”
A drone of grunts, growls, and mutters peppered the air.
Coach walked in between and around us. “A girl on this team might do you boys some good. Maybe she’ll show you a thing or two. Anyway, she’ll be down on the field after we finish practice. Right now, get your asses up. We’re facing one of our toughest rivals tomorrow night.”
We hopped to attention. While everyone separated into defensive and offensive lines, I ran up to Coach. “We don’t need Montana. Austin can kick.” Austin was a great kicker, but he was better as a wide receiver.
He pierced me with dark eyes. “What are you afraid of?”
“Honestly, she’ll distract me. The girl drives me fucking crazy. And since I’m being completely honest, my dick stays hard when she’s around.”
He chuckled. “You’re a teenager. Your dick should be hard all the time.”
I didn’t know about that. “Also, have you thought about her safety?” Then again, as a kicker, she wouldn’t be in harm’s way.
“Practice. Let me worry about her safety.”
Reluctantly, I joined the offensive line. I wanted to argue more, but with Coach, arguing only got a person fifty more laps around the track. Not that I was a wimp since I ran outside of football. I just didn’t want to croak before the game tomorrow night.
“Well, what did Coach say about Montana?” Derek asked.
“Forget Montana. You heard Coach. We have a tough rival tomorrow.”
We ran through play after play after play. We had just gotten into formation for our last play when I spotted Montana walking toward Coach. All the guys saw her too, some muttering their disapproval.
Ignore her. Play the game. A wild fucking laugh broke out in my head. Montana had made it impossible to ignore her on any given day. I was about to obey my conscience, when off to my left, I spotted my old man. I didn’t know what was worse—Montana showing up, making me want to tackle her and do things to her that I’d been imagining since I met her, or my old man showing up to watch me then tell me everything I was doing wrong on the field.
Then it dawned on me. I hadn’t heard from my dad about a refrigeration guy to fix Montana’s air conditioning.
“Are we playing?” Lou asked.
I placed my hands behind Lou’s legs. “Set!” I yelled as I scanned the offensive line. “Red twenty-five!” I turned my head to my right. “Red twenty-five!” I turned my head to the left. “Hut! Hut!”
Lou snapped the ball. I shuffled back as I honed in on where Austin was going to be. In football, the quarterback threw the ball where the receiver would be, not where he was. My dad had drilled that into me at an early age.
But my focus wasn’t anywhere on the field. My dad and Montana were shaking hands. Several swear words went off in my head. Then before I could release the ball, I was tackled by two of the players from the defensive line.
Some of the guys started yelling, but the loudest person was Coach. “Fuck, Everly. That fucking head of yours is up your fucking ass again.”
“Yeah, man.” Lou held out a hand. “It’s not your head, but your eyes were on someone’s ass.”
I got up without his help, ignoring my old man. I could hear him now. “You’re not going to get into USC if you play like shit. That was a moronic play. Blah, blah, blah.” I’d heard all his rants, and they never went in one ear and out the other. Nope. They only angered the fuck out of me.
I flared my nostrils as I flipped the ball back to Lou. “Again!” I barked, not looking at anyone beyond the guys.
We huddled as I blew out a breath.
“Don’t worry about your old man,” Austin said.
Derek chuckled. “He’s not worried about his old man. He’s got his dick pointed at Montana.”
“Can it,” I said. “All of you. Let’s run the play again.” Fuckers. They were right on both counts.
We practiced the play again, and this time, I built tunnel vision around the field. Granted, the tunnel was thin since I could see out of the corner of my eye. Montana was talking with Coach, while my father seemed to be listening. Once Austin caught the ball, he ran only to be tackled about five yards from the end zone.
“All right,” Coach called. “Take five laps tonight around the track. Then get some rest for tomorrow. Everly, front and center.”
Everyone removed their helmets, grabbed some Gatorade, then headed onto the track. Before I met Coach, I got a drink, checking on Montana, who had fallen in line with Austin, jogging around the track in her tight yoga pants and a workout bra that kept her tits firmly in place.
Whatever you do tomorrow night, do not look for her in the stands.
I knocked back the Gatorade as my old man came up to me.
Tall and lean with a light-brown goatee, my dad, Lawrence Everly, was a formidable man. “What kind of junk are you playing?” He narrowed his green eyes, enhancing the lines on his face. There was no question that he and I were related. “USC won’t take you if you play like that.”
Then don’t allow a fucking girl on the team. The words blared in my head, and I wanted to scream them at Coach.
I snarled. “Are you here to coach me? Because if you are, don’t bother. I have a coach.”
“I’m here to speak with Coach Holmes and you. I managed to get the USC scout out to the game tomorrow night.”
“You could’ve called me.” My tone was full of acid but quickly dissipated when it clicked that the USC scout would be at the game. “
A scout, huh?”
“I thought you would be happy,” he said.
Over the fucking moon. “I am. Thank you.” I really had to get my head in the game. “Why haven’t you returned my call about the refrigeration guy for Montana Smith, the girl you were shaking hands with?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Son, she called me. I took care of that yesterday. I also sent someone out to her house this morning and then stopped by to make sure the AC was working.”
“Montana called you?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Montana wasn’t the type of girl to wait for anyone.
“Why is that a surprise?” he asked. “My company is listed on the Internet.”
Everly Architecture and Design was listed on the Internet and in big bold letters on the door of the building my dad owned in downtown Charleston.
“Never mind. Coach needs me.” He needed to squeeze my balls until I was keeling over. Or maybe Montana would do just that when she sashayed onto the field to show us what she had.
Dad walked with me. “We have dinner tonight at six at Dominic’s in Charleston. Our first-game-of-the-season tradition. Remember?”
Not really, thanks in part to my screwed-up life, compliments of girls. But we did have a tradition—the night before my first football game of the season, we would have dinner and chat about plays, the other teams, and anything related to football. But since my dad and mom had divorced, our tradition had been him talking and me tuning him out. Maybe tonight, I would listen since the scout would be at tomorrow night’s game. After all, my father knew the game well and had been the quarterback for USC in college. So he was an expert.
“I know. Mom gave me the message.”
Again, why he hadn’t texted me or called me had me scratching my head. I suspected he knew I would decline, but I wouldn’t and couldn’t say no to my mom. She had insisted that I at least try with my dad. After all, he was the one paying for college and everything else in my life.
“I might be a few minutes late. I have to stop by the bookstore and pick up a book for English.” I needed CliffsNotes.
Coach dropped his clipboard on a chair as he and my old man exchanged a handshake. “All right, Train. I want you to throw the ball to Montana.”
My dad’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?”
“Coach is letting a girl try out,” I said in a not-so-nice tone.
“Tryouts are over,” Dad said. “And she could get hurt.”
My thoughts exactly.
“We need a kicker. I’m giving her a shot.” Coach waved at Montana then turned to me. “Get the ball and get out there.”
The team settled around the field, while Montana ran toward me with a boner of a smile on her face.
I was screwed.
Chapter Ten
MONTANA
I slowed to a walk as I kept Train in sight. He looked as scrumptious as ever in his football uniform minus the helmet, although I preferred him in swim trunks. He palmed the ball, glowering at me. Coach had asked me earlier that day if I was still interested in trying out. I’d debated for the last two days on whether to go through with the tryout or not. I could throw a football, but that was where my talent ended. Honestly, when I’d spoken to Coach, he didn’t give any indication he would give me a shot, although the scuttlebutt from Austin said otherwise.
But since I’d made such a big stink, puffing my chest out as though I were queen of the field, I couldn’t back out now even if I made myself come off as a twit, jackass, and all the other words that would describe my inability to play football.
But my Nana Smith had always said, “Do as you say you’re going to do. Otherwise, no one will trust you.”
I might not have cared how I looked on the field, but trust was important to me. Deep down, I wanted Train to trust me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Elvira walking down to stand next to Austin. I’d texted her to come support me, but I wasn’t sure if she would. We were in the infancy stages of our friendship, and we hadn’t discussed in detail what her thoughts were on me trying out.
I settled in front of Train with my pulse sprinting.
“You seem nervous,” he said, sounding relieved.
Understatement of the year. “Not at all.”
“None of the guys want you on the team. I know you’re only doing this to piss me off.” His tone was snide.
“Do you want me on the team?”
He studied me for the longest moment. “You don’t belong on the team.”
“Why? Because you think girls should be barefoot and pregnant?”
He squinted his beautiful peepers at me. “Coach wants us to throw. So go long.”
I’d watched enough football to know that I had to run and keep my eye on the quarterback at the same time. The problem was I had a wandering eye. I checked on the team, who were all holding their breath. When I flipped my gaze back to Train, the ball was soaring in the air, a perfect spiral, heading right for me. I held up my arms, my stomach knotting and nausea ready to spurt out, as I darted right then left, hoping and praying I could catch the ball. I can do this, I chanted until the ball landed square in my chest, punching the wind out of me as I fell on my ass.
Titters and snorts ensued from the football team. I was grateful the whole school wasn’t there.
“Don’t let them bother you!” Elvira shouted. Maybe she was on my side.
I brushed myself off in an attempt to soothe my ego as I picked up the ball then threw a perfect spiral back to Train.
Someone whistled.
“Austin!” Coach yelled. “Get out there and set her up for a kick on the twenty-yard line.”
Oh, this ought to be fun. Not. I didn’t know the first thing about kicking.
Train tossed the ball to Austin as he ran out to me.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I said to Train’s best friend. “I can throw a football, but that’s about it. I only wanted to mess with Train. God, now I look like an idiot.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “Trust me when I say there are guys out there who would get excited to see you throw the ball the way you do. Hell, I’m one of them. And Train is another. But don’t do this unless your heart is in it. The team has put their heart and soul into every season. To be frank, we don’t need a person—guy or gal—on the team who doesn’t want to be here.”
“I’m not a quitter. I had to at least follow this through.”
“You’re not done yet. Let’s see that kick.” Austin set up the ball. “Please don’t kick my arm.”
I busted out laughing. “Then you’ve been warned.”
I focused on the ball and thought about all those NFL kickers I’d watched kick a football. I shuffled back about five feet then ran forward. Just before I reached the ball, I pointed my right foot down toward the ground then kicked. When my foot connected with the football, pain shot up my leg. I bit back any screams or swear words while I watched the ball dribble down the field from my pathetic kick.
“Montana!” Coach shouted.
“You did okay,” Austin said.
The muted laughs trickling onto the field from the team stung just a tiny bit. “I was horrible.” Even though I was embarrassed, I held my head high. I was proud that I hadn’t backed out. I dared not look at Train, though. Otherwise, I might have curled up on the field and begged the earth to suck me in.
Austin leaned in to me as we trekked over to Coach. “Don’t worry. Train isn’t laughing, but he is sizing you up.”
I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t help.”
Austin headed toward Train. “See you later.”
I would bet they would have a good laugh in the locker room. Whatever.
“All right, everyone. Showers. Get some rest tonight,” Coach said to the team.
Elvira walked up. I couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.
With his car keys in his hand, Mr. Everly said, “Young lady, valiant effort in trying. Great th
row.” His tone was polite and soft. “Coach, see you tomorrow night.” Then he was gone.
I was dying to know what Train thought. Maybe not.
Coach played with the whistle around his neck. “How do you think you did?”
“Horrible. Coach, I want to apologize. I only tried out because someone made me mad.” There was no point in lying. “I really didn’t think you would let me, anyway.”
He scrubbed a hand along his unshaven jaw. “I had every intention of scolding you for wasting my time, but honesty and an apology keep me from doing just that. Now, I will say that if you had practiced more in your younger years, you could’ve had potential, especially with your arm. Where did you learn how to throw a football?” he asked.
Stress oozed off of my shoulders. “Joey Dennison.”
“The Joey Dennison?” Coach’s voice rose in pitch. “The guy who played quarterback for the Naval Academy then was a first-round draft pick for the Saints?”
“You know him?” I asked.
“Who doesn’t? He blew his knee during a summer tour with the military overseas. Came home, and the doctors said he needed a lot of therapy. So the Saints let him go.”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “He seemed fine when he was dating my mom. Again, I’m sorry if I stirred up trouble.”
“I was hoping you could kick a football.”
Elvira hung close, listening. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t hiding anything, anyway.
“Yeah, that didn’t go well. Just to be clear, I’m not on the team?”
He began gathering his clipboard and a gym bag. “I’m afraid not.”
I scanned the field. Train was gone, as was the entire team.
I sighed. I didn’t have the energy at that moment to banter with Train. “Was everyone laughing at that kick?” I asked Elvira.
Her sparkly eye shadow glinted in the sun. “I think the guys were relieved you couldn’t kick.”
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