I think he's fucking crazy. We're only 21. Who the hell even thinks about marriage at our age? This is the time to be carefree and reckless. Make bad decisions and chalk it up to life experience. Live like today's your last.
That's how I approach life, but it wasn't always that way. Growing up, I did what I was told. I lived dutifully under my parents' dictatorship, following their rules, being the perfect son. But after 18 years, I couldn't take it anymore. I went behind their backs and secretly applied to Laytham, a private college in small town Ohio, thousands of miles from L.A.
It wasn't the plan. Not even close. I was supposed to go to UCLA or USC, both close to home and highly rated football schools. I'd hone my skills on the field while my controlling father watched me with a critical eye, outlining everything I did wrong and what I'd need to do to get better. As if he had any clue how to coach someone in football. Being a sports agent doesn't make you a goddamn expert in the game. It just means you know how to be enough of an asshole in negotiations to get your clients what they want.
When my dad found out about Laytham, he was pissed. He called up the president of the school and demanded they rescind their offer. But it was too late. I'd already accepted and signed on to play quarterback in exchange for a full ride scholarship. A few months earlier, I'd met with the coach. He flew out to L.A. just to meet with me. Normally, he'd talk to a recruit's parents before giving an offer but I warned him that doing so would mean I'd never play for his team. My dad would do everything in his power to stop it. My only option was to go behind their backs, which was allowed because I was 18, so technically an adult.
Despite it being a done deal, my dad did everything he could think of to change my mind. Bought me a shiny new red Ferrari. An apartment in Malibu. Even set me up with one of the high end prostitutes he hires for his clients when they need to de-stress.
That's how he treated me. Like a client, trying to win me over with gifts and money and girls. But it didn't work. I was determined to get far away from him.
Now, three years later, he's accepted my decision but only because I've excelled on the football field and because Laytham is a top football school among small colleges. The past three years, I've led the team to more wins than the school has ever had, boosting our rankings and getting me noticed by League scouts. That last part is all my dad cares about. Getting me in the pros. It's been his dream since I was a kid and now it's going to be a reality. Next spring I'll get drafted and my career as a professional athlete will begin.
Jason glances at his phone. He swerves in the other lane, then quickly rights the car back to the proper lane.
"Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road," I say.
"Baby, you okay?" Lyndsay rubs Jason's neck. "Maybe you shouldn't be driving."
"Why is everyone getting on my case? I had two beers. That's nothing. I feel fine."
Kasey scoots back on my lap and lowers her head like she's about to go down on me. I pull her face back to mine. "Not here."
"I'll get on the floor," she whispers. "He won't even see."
"Believe me, he'll know."
I look at her, so willing and eager to please me. I just met this girl. I know nothing about her, and yet she still wants to be with me. Just like every other girl on campus.
Her green eyes are taking me in like I'm a prize she's won for the night.
Ethan Baxter. Star quarterback. Soon-to-be professional athlete. Future millionaire.
Just as Kasey leans in for a kiss, I turn my head and yell up to Jason. "Are the guys there yet?"
"Brent and Jackson got there an hour ago. Sounded wasted when I called them." He chuckles. "Brent couldn't even remember the name of the girl he was with."
Brent is a tight end and a year older than me. He graduates next week. He's headed for a career in pharmaceutical sales, which he's not happy about but it's the only job he could find. He starts in a couple weeks and has promised to party nonstop up until then.
Jackson is a running back. We both just finished our junior year. He's a psychology major, like me. We picked psychology because we thought it'd be easy. A throwaway degree, since we both figured we'd end up with a career in the pros. But so far, it's not looking good for Jackson. He didn't play well his first couple years and spent most of last year on the bench.
The cabin we're going to belongs to Jackson's parents. They live a couple hours away and use the cabin during the summers. During the school year, we use it as a place to party. It's nothing great but it's big, with four bedrooms and a large open living room.
"Babe, can you find my phone?" Jason says to Lyndsay. "I dropped it between the seat."
She reaches over and starts searching the area between his seat and the middle console. "I don't feel it."
"I think it fell closer to the front." He looks down and I feel the car swerve.
"Jason, watch it," I tell him as a car approaches.
He looks up. "Yeah, I got it."
It's dark and we're on a two-lane road and he keeps swerving in the other lane, crossing the center line. Now I'm convinced he's had too much to drink, but the rest of us have had even more so it's not like we can take his place at the wheel.
Maybe I should say something. Ask him to pull over. Except I know he won't do it. He'll insist he's okay to drive.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Kasey asks.
I glance back at her and see her frowning, her lips coated in bright pink lipstick that I'm surprised hasn't rubbed off from all the kissing we've done.
"Nothing's wrong," I tell her.
But it is. Something doesn't feel right.
Kasey kisses me but I break from her lips and look around her to the front seat. "Jason, maybe you should pull over."
"Pull over?" He laughs. "Why the hell would I pull over? You two planning on doing it in the woods? You seriously can't wait till we get to the cabin?"
"It's not that. I just think maybe you—"
"Found it!" Lyndsay holds up his cell phone.
"Thanks, babe." He takes it from her and gives her a kiss.
"Jason!" I yell as I feel the car veering toward the shoulder.
"Got it," he says, getting us back on the road.
"Seriously, dude, you shouldn't be driving," I say.
"You need to relax." He points to the glove compartment. "Babe, get him a drink."
"I don't need a drink," I say.
Lyndsay opens the compartment and takes out a bottle of vodka and holds it over the seat.
"I don't want it," I tell her.
"I do." Kasey takes the bottle, opens it, and swigs down a shot or two. "Come on." She holds the bottle up to me. "Have some."
I ignore her, my eyes on the road as I see a car approaching.
Jason says something to Lyndsay. I'm not sure what. I'm not listening, my attention focused on the approaching car. Lyndsay says something back to Jason and he laughs. He reaches over for her hand and I feel us swerve onto the shoulder.
But this time Jason doesn't swerve back on the road.
The next few seconds play out in slow motion. I feel each and every movement. I see it like it's happening frame-by-frame, like when coach analyzes our plays after a game.
The front of the SUV lifts up, up, up...then comes crashing down. Down, down, down. It hits something hard and I watch, helplessly, as Kasey flies out of my arms, her head banging against the side window. I reach for her just as the SUV shoots up again, up in the air, then flips on its side, then the roof. It flips again and the interior lights flash on just long enough for me to see Kasey's body being tossed around like a rag doll as blood splatters everywhere.
The sounds echo in my head. The blare of a car horn when the SUV first careened off the road. The crunch of the metal as it landed, then flipped. The screams. The high-pitched screams coming from one or both of the girls. And then...
Silence. I'm left with deafening silence. Blackness. The smell of smoke, gasoline, rubber. And a numbness coming from my leg. I try to move it but
can't. It's stuck. All of me is stuck. There's a heavy weight on top of me, a warm liquid trickling down my arm. My vision fades as I go in and out of consciousness, but in my semi-conscious state, I know the weight I feel is Kasey. Her lifeless body. And the liquid I feel is blood.
"Help!" I cry out. My voice is weak, hoarse...and yet I try again. "Help! Someone please help!"
I feel my mind drifting off. My eyes falling shut.
And then the darkness takes over.
***
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