by L A Cotton
The Raiders were bunched up on one side of the room, making it clear they had no intention of welcoming us with open arms.
“Take a seat, gentlemen.” Coach Ford met my hard gaze and tipped his chin. It wasn’t the first time I’d met him. But it was the first time he’d addressed me directly.
I knew all about Jason Ford, NFL legend and Rixon royalty. But where most people recognized him for his successful career with the Philadelphia Eagles, I knew him for other reasons.
He and my dad went back, way back. Back to when they were in high school. I’d heard the stories. The rival’s week pranks and mayhem. There was no love lost between my old man and my new coach.
None at all.
In fact, my father had petitioned for me to attend one of the other local high schools instead, but I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I wanted Rixon High. Coach Ford was the best, and if I had any hopes of getting a full ride to the college of my choice, I needed to play with the best.
My guys hesitated behind me, unsure of what the fuck they should do.
“I don’t have all day, ladies,” Coach added, and I gave my team a small nod.
They fell into step beside me as we got ourselves situated on the available benches.
“Okay, listen up.” Coach Ford yanked off his ball cap and ran a hand through his dark hair. “This isn’t how I saw the season going, just like how I’m sure it isn’t how you saw the season going, but here we are.
“The reality is, I have too many players and not enough spots. Which means things are going to have to change.”
“That’s bullshit, Coach,” Jenson Monroe shot up, “and you know it.”
“What I know, son, is that this team has a championship to defend. So unless you want to see it slip through our fingers this season, I suggest you sit your ass down and get with the program.
“This is how it’s going to go. You show up to practice, you work hard, you follow my lead, and I’ll make sure you get time on the field.”
The room exploded with chatter. Monroe’s guys were arguing amongst themselves, outraged that we were coming in trying to steal their positions, while my guys were moaning about being forced to play with a team they hated. But not me and Monroe. We sat quiet, glaring at the other. He was their quarterback. The team’s leader. He was good too. But he wasn’t as good as me. And from the flicker of fear in his eyes, he knew it.
“Okay, okay,” Coach boomed. “Quit bitchin’. I want you changed and out on the field in ten. If you won’t listen to me in here, perhaps you’ll listen to me out there.” He stalked off, his anger rippling through the air.
“What do we do, Thatch?” Bryan asked me.
“You want to play football, Bry?”
“Shit, yeah, but they don’t fucking want us here anymore than we want to be here.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.” I slammed a hand to his chest and patted. “If you want Michigan to come knocking, you’re going to need to show them what you’ve got.”
“I don’t know, Thatch… It’s their territory.” His eyes flicked over to where Monroe and his guys were changing into their uniforms.
“Look. Forget about them and focus on the game.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
We got changed, reluctantly pulling on the white and blue jerseys one of the assistant coaches gave us. It felt wrong to be in their colors, but I guess we weren’t Eagles anymore.
We were Raiders.
And fuck if that didn’t feel like some kind of treachery.
“Run it again,” Coach Ford yelled across the field. He reminded me a lot of Coach Forrester from Rixon East, but he had an air of authority that our coach didn’t. I guess it came with being NFL royalty.
Coach Ford knew what it was like to want football, to live and breathe it. He’d moved through the ranks from high school to college all the way to professional football.
He got it.
“Okay, Jenson, switch out with Thatcher.”
“But, Coach—”
“I said switch out, let’s go.”
I grabbed my helmet and pulled it on, jogging into position. For the last forty minutes we’d been running basic drills. Coach had been working with Monroe, letting him run play after play. I was itching to get in there and show Coach what I could do, but I wasn’t about to be an asshole about it.
“Watch it,” Monroe slammed his shoulder into mine as he stalked off.
Anger zipped up my spine, but I shut it down. He wanted me to slip up. He wanted me to fail. Reacting would be playing straight into his hands. No matter how much I wanted to put my fist through the guy’s face.
“Okay, Thatcher, time to show us what you got, son.” Coach’s eyes bore into mine as I got in position to accept the snap.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I checked the field. I’d spent the last couple of weeks learning the Raider playbook inside and out, but I hadn’t put any of it into practice with their offense yet.
Their center—a guy called Aaron—moved into position.
“Hut,” I called, and he snapped the ball to me. Dropping back, I scanned the field for an open player. Our eyes collided and I gave him the signal to run. He took off, pumping his legs and putting up his hand.
I hiked my arm back and then extended it, letting the ball fly. It cut through the air like a rocket, with clear precision and speed. The receiver leaped off the ground and got a hand on the ball, snatching it into his body and landing on two feet.
“Good job,” Coach yelled.
“Not bad, Thatcher,” Aaron said. “For an Eagle.” He smirked from under his helmet.
We ran the play a couple more times. Each time the receiver went deeper and each time I made the perfect pass. At some point, the rest of the players had stopped to watch. Even Monroe. Although when Coach called us into the huddle, his expression looked anything but impressed.
“Good job out there everyone. I know it’s going to take a little time to adjust to things, but the important thing here is we all want to play football, don’t we?”
“Yes, sir.” Our collective voices filled the air.
“Good. Now hit the showers and get to class. I don’t want any shirking this semester. We play hard and work hard. Monroe, Thatcher, a word.” He beckoned us over while the rest of the players jogged off field.
“You both looked good out there. Strong. Focused. I know this is a unique situation and I’ll be honest, it’s not one I planned to find myself in. But I’m looking to both of you to keep your guys in line, you hear me?”
I flicked my eyes to Monroe, and he glowered at me. “Sure, Coach.” Contempt dripped from his words.
“I mean it, Monroe. I’m looking to you to lead the team during this transition period. Now get out of here. Both of you.” He gave me a strange look, but I didn’t ask him what he was thinking. That was a road I didn’t want to go down.
“You think you’re going to win Coach over with a few good throws?”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I gritted out.
“My problem? My problem is we don’t want you here, nobody wants you here. So stay the fuck out of my way.”
“You’re just worried I’ll take your spot.” I didn’t want to bait him, but the words were out before I could stop them.
“Worried? About an asshole like you, Thatcher?” Monroe got all up in my face as we reached the locker room doors. “Not likely. This is my team, my school, my fucking season… No way am I going to let a guy from across the river fuck it up for me.” He shoulder checked me as he slipped into the locker room.
“Don’t let him rattle you, man.” Aaron appeared out of nowhere. “He’s feeling the heat.”
“Yeah, well, he should.” The corner of my mouth tipped.
“Touché.”
“You know we’d rather not be here either.”
“Yeah, but like Coach said, here we are. And I don’t know about you, but I want to play football.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t argue t
here.
He chuckled. “We’re not all assholes. So long as you don’t come looking for trouble.”
“I can’t make any promises.” If Monroe kept pushing, eventually I’d snap. But I was hoping to avoid that.
“You can do it.” Aaron clapped me on the shoulder before moving around me. “Come on,” he said, and I followed him inside.
It wasn’t like I had much choice.
“Well, will you take a look at that.” Bryan let out a low whistle. “It’s like a fresh pussy buffet.”
“Dude, I’m eating,” I quipped, stuffing another fry into my mouth.
“Yeah, and hopefully I will be later.” He grinned, sticking his fingers up to his mouth in a V and licking.
“Fucking idiot,” Gav said. “But he’s not wrong about the pussy. Case in point.” He pointed over to a group of girls in the lunch line.
I recognized them from this morning in the hall.
“The blonde is hot. Hey, Thatch, isn’t that the girl who called after you this morning?”
“Dunno, is it?” I shrugged. She was a cute thing, sure. In that obvious hot girl kinda way. But it wasn’t her that had caught my eye. It was her dark-haired friend that hid behind her.
“Seriously, do you have eyes? Look at her rack. What I wouldn’t give to see what she’s hiding underneath her clothes.”
I barely contained the growl vibrating in my chest when Jenson Monroe strolled up to her and slapped her ass. She pressed a hand to his chest, laughing at something he said. They looked over at us and she frowned.
“Yeah, Casanova, let me know how that works out for you.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Anyone give you any shit in second or third period?” I asked them.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“They’ll get used to us,” I said, swallowing my doubts.
I didn’t like it any more than they did, but it was the hand we’d been dealt. The Raiders were the team to beat, one of the most successful high school teams in the state, even the country. If we wanted to impress scouts and showcase ourselves as the best, we had to play with the best.
“Ooh burn.” Bryan hissed and I looked up to find Blondie giving Monroe a piece of her mind. “Maybe my luck is changing.” He stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Blondie, there’s room at our table.”
“Sit down, asshole.” I grabbed his t-shirt and yanked. He plopped down in his chair, laughter rumbling in his chest. Bryan was a defensive tackle, and a good one at that. But he was also a fucking idiot, too interested in getting his dick wet than the future.
She smirked in our direction, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Fuck, I think I just came in my pants.”
“Jesus, you need to get laid,” Gav chuckled.
She blew him a kiss before grabbing her friend’s hand and tugging her along the lunch line. There was something about her, the dark-haired one. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it though. She looked like a fish out of water standing there while her friend chatted to everyone who came and went. Another girl joined them, and the guys started taking bets on who could bed the blonde first.
“If you worked this hard on the field, maybe we would have gotten to the championship last year,” I mumbled.
I loved my team, I did, but they were too easily distracted. Girls, parties, the attention and fan worship. They wanted it, sure… they just didn’t want it enough. Not the way I did.
Football was everything to me. Every-fucking-thing. It was my ticket out of Rixon. Away from my family. The pressure. The constant shadow of my father.
It was my shot at freedom.
“Hey, you must be Thatcher.” A pretty thing perched her ass on the edge of our table. “I’m Lindsey, the cheer captain.”
“What’s up?”
“Party at my house Friday. You should totally come.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, hot stuff. We don’t party with Raiders,” Bryan said.
“But aren’t you… Raiders, I mean?” Her perfectly plucked brow arched. “Come. It’ll go a long way to breaking the ice with the team. They’re not all assholes like Jenson.”
I wasn’t sure about that, but she had a point. If we wanted to assimilate with the team, we had to at least try to make the effort.
“We’ll think about it,” I said.
“Good.” She made a show of licking her lips, her eyes fixed right on mine. “I’ll see you around, Thatcher. Guys.” Hopping down off the table, she spun on her heel and sauntered away, her itty-bitty cheer skirt riding up the backs of her thighs and giving us a peek of her ass.
“Fuck, I’m in heaven.” Bryan slammed his hand down on the table. “Tell me we’re going to the party?”
“Maybe. She has a point. We might need to be the ones to try to break the ice.”
“I don’t like it, Thatch,” Gav said. “It has setup written all over it.” His eyes went to where Monroe was sitting with the rest of the football team. They weren’t paying us any attention, laughing at some joke one of them was telling.
“He won’t want us there,” he added.
“Yeah…” I nodded, my lips curving a fraction, “but maybe that’s all the more reason to go.”
Chapter Three
Lily
“So?” Mom asked the second I sat at the counter watching her tend to an abandoned kitten. It was a scrawny little thing with matted fur and cloudy eyes, but it was still one of the cutest things I’d ever seen. “How was it?”
“It was fine, Mom.”
“You’re sure?” Concern glittered in her eyes.
“Yep.”
It had been fine. No one bothered me or tried to talk to me. Except for Ashleigh and Peyton, it was almost like I wasn’t there.
Usually, I took comfort in feeling so invisible. Being invisible meant being off people’s radars. But something felt different about it today.
It was senior year. My last year of high school. Did I want to spend it hiding in the shadows?
“He’s so small,” I said, watching her bathe the kitten.
“Someone found him behind a dumpster.”
“I don’t know how people can do that, just abandon them.” My heart ached for the small, helpless animal.
Mom’s passion was the rescue center she managed. I’d grown up in A Brand New Tail, sitting right at this counter, watching her work her magic. The kitten purred as she scrubbed his fur.
“We’ll have him as good as new soon enough.” She smiled over at me. “Still thinking about following in your mom’s footsteps?”
“Maybe,” I said around a small shrug.
“You’ll need to make a decision eventually, Lil.”
“I know.” But the prospect of college terrified me. Everyone said it was a chance to find yourself, to learn who you really were. But for someone like me, it was an unknown quantity that made my stomach drop just thinking about it.
“You can stay local, sweetheart,” Mom said, as if she could hear my thoughts. “Nobody is going to force you to move away from home, you know that, but I think college would be good for you.”
“I want to go, Mom. I just…” The words clogged in my throat.
She dried a hand on the towel beside the small tub and leaned over. “You’ve come so far, baby. You have so much life left to live, Lily. I know it’s hard, but I don’t want you to look back and have any regrets.”
I forced a weak smile and she chuckled. “You know, when I was in high school, I made a list for senior year.”
“What kind of list?”
“Kind of like a senior year bucket list.”
“How did I not know about this?” I sat up straighter.
“Because I’ve been waiting for the right moment to share it with you.”
“What was on the list?”
“It doesn’t matter what was on it.” Her expression softened. “What’s important is that you know your mom was
n’t a social butterfly either. I found it hard going after the things I wanted. Your grams and grandpa, God love them, had a plan for my life, baby. One I didn’t want.
“So I made a list and promised myself I would try to push myself out of my comfort zone so I didn’t graduate with a heap of regrets.”
“Is that how you met Dad? Because of the list?”
“That is a story for another day.” Her lip quirked.
“Ew, gross.”
“Your dad actually helped me complete the final few things on my list. He was very sweet.” She lifted the kitten out of the tub and wrapped him in the towel, rubbing his little body dry.
“Sweet? Are you sure you’re talking about Dad? Jason Ford? Grumpy butt extraordinaire?” I smothered a chuckle.
“Don’t let him hear you call him that.” She fought her own smile. “I’m not saying you should write a list, Lily. But maybe you could try to push those boundaries a little this year. I know the world is a scary place, sweetheart, but there’s so much goodness out there. And who knows, maybe a cute guy is waiting for you to—”
“Mom!” I flushed, burying my face in the crook of my arm.
Her soft laughter filled the room. “You’re almost eighteen, Lily. One day, you’re going to find a guy you like and then you’ll know what I mean.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” I grumbled. I wasn’t like Peyton or my cousin Ashleigh. They were both confident and beautiful. Sure, Ashleigh wasn’t as flighty as Peyton was when it came to guys, and she hadn’t found the courage to tell her crush she liked him, but she was still confident in herself.
Mom placed the kitten in a crate, wiped her hands, and came around to me. “Lily May Ford, you are a strong, beautiful young woman. I just wish you’d see what we all see, baby.”
I sank into her embrace. I wanted to believe her words, to grab them with both hands and never let go, but there was always that little voice inside my head taunting me.
“I love you, Lily Star,” she whispered. It was what she called me whenever I was feeling down or afraid. When I was a kid, confused by the big scary world, Mom used to cuddle me and sing to me.