Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I love that he’s double-checking this is what I actually want. Brady and I talk about how hard it is being the sons of Marcus Talon and Shane Miller, but the truth is, if we turned around and seriously told our parents we wanted to be anything else—an artist like Levi, have a boring office job so we could be ‘normal’ for once in our lives, or in Brady’s case, a sports agent—we know we’d have the support of our dads.
It just so happens that I love football. “I do want it.” But I also want Levi.
I look out at the stands again, directly where Levi is, and his eyes catch on mine. If I follow my heart like Pop says, it doesn’t have one destination. It has two.
It’s a harder path to follow, but I’m hoping committing to it will make it easier. There is no either-or for me.
Dad bounds over to Pop and me and slaps my shoulder. “Ready to get out there and show them what you’ve got?”
This time, I actually am. “Ready to get out there and win.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
levi
The whole game, I go back and forth between worrying that Peyton will be mad that I came and enjoying watching him kick ass. Well, he’s doing well. The actual game is close.
Me being here is exactly what Peyton asked me not to do. He wants to cool things, and here I am, cheering him on anyway. I’d like to say it’s because I’m a bigger person and we can still be friends, but it’s not. Brady dragged me here. Apparently, we’re friends now? Or he likes to see his brother in awkward situations and lives for it. Yeah, it’s probably the latter. I’m just collateral damage in that game.
Brady’s had his head in his phone the whole time. In the brief moments he hasn’t, he explains what’s happening on the field so I can understand better. It still makes no sense to me, but there’s something about the atmosphere of a game that gets me excited.
It’s in the way the crowd’s anticipation grows the closer to the end zone the team gets, the collective disappointment when it doesn’t happen, or even better, when it spills over to a celebration as one of our guys crosses the line for a touchdown.
For the first time in my life, I might not understand football, but I do understand team mentality. It’s not only the football team on that field; it’s the entire school. If Peyton wins, we win, and that high carries over.
Though, at the moment, there’s nothing but anxiety filling the stadium. Fresno State has evened the score, and now, time is running out.
Franklin U has possession of the ball, and they’re slowly making their way down the field, but I have no idea if they’re going to manage to score again.
My heartbeat thrums fast and hard. I’ve never been a competitive person before—I did debate club and all those other academic contests because my father made me, not because I enjoyed them—but in this moment, there’s a growing need inside me to see victory.
Sure, it might be for Peyton’s sake more than mine, but the adrenaline of it all is addictive.
Felix says something to Brady about watching the game instead of his phone, but I can’t take my eyes off the field to join in on their conversation. His words do catch my attention, though.
“Peyton’s not even on the field.”
“Ah, look again.” I point.
They’re so close to the end zone now. One good throw from Peyton and they could score if one of his runners can get there. I don’t know who is who or what position does what, but I’m getting the gist of what needs to be done.
Brady and Felix bicker back and forth, but I’m back to not paying them any attention. All my focus is on Peyton as he throws the ball the farthest I’ve ever seen him throw. One of his teammates is waiting for it in the end zone.
Everyone gets to their feet, watching as he catches it, and Franklin pulls ahead with only a couple of minutes left on the clock.
“Fuck yes!” Brady yells.
But when I look, he’s staring at his phone again, not celebrating over the touchdown like the rest of us.
Felix looks over Brady’s shoulder. “You have a three-way to get to, don’t you?”
I try to hide my amusement, but a laugh slips out.
Then Brady’s eyes are on me. “Can you cover for me with Pey?”
I’m hesitant, not only because I haven’t seen Peyton since he blew me off, but because while I’m okay with keeping Brady’s secret, I draw the line at flat out lying. When I tell him as much, Felix cuts in.
“You’re going to have to tell your brother eventually.”
“No, I won’t. The guys are about to be deployed, so this is our last chance. Gotta go. If he asks, tell him I was here for the whole game, but once it was over, I left without explanation.”