The Playmaker (A Big Play Novel Book 1) (3 page)

#4:

Hidden Agenda

Colt

I hate that I’m the first one here.

Picking up my fork, I spin it in my fingers while keeping an eye on the door. Usually, I give Finn a ride and we show up together, but his mom lent him her car this morning so he could pick up some art supplies after practice. She’s an early childhood educator and runs a preschool in Brownridge, the next town over. She’s always getting Finn to do little errands for her and, being an only child who’s set on Golden Boy status, he always helps his mama out.

I shift in my seat, flicking open the menu with the tip of my fork, then scanning the high-gloss photos. I don’t know why. I already know what I’m going to get. It’s a Wednesday night in September, which means the chef’s special will be discounted. It also means the chef’s special will be the Summer Sizzler—double meat patty, cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion rings, pineapple, bacon and a sauce that was made in heaven and sent down to satisfy every craving ever invented. As weird as Mr. Lomax can sometimes be, the guy knows how to cook delicious food.

My stomach rumbles just thinking about it.

This afternoon’s football practice was a tough one. The coaches pushed us hard. Our first game of the season is looming, and they want us to have another killer year. I appreciate how much they push us, although my body disagrees. I knead my neck, still tight and sore…although I can’t help wondering if the actual cause is stress. I’ve had a headache since Miss Wilder handed out our history assignments. The first week of school and we get lumped with a freaking two-thousand-word essay. Some crap about assessing our research and processing abilities—are we able to research a topic, explain it, and then expand our thinking to form a rational opinion. I don’t need to do the assignment to know how good I am at all that shit. I’m not. I should just hand in a two-word essay—
I suck
.

I close my eyes, biting my lips against the whiny groan that wants to break free. That’ll get me a nice fat F on my progress report, and I won’t be allowed to play. I don’t even think Coach Watson can yell loud enough to change Principal Matthis’ mind. This damn assignment is going to kill me.

As soon as I finished stumbling through the instructions, I went into a state of catatonic shock. I just sat at my desk and stared out the window. I can’t do it. The task feels so monumental; I don’t even know where to begin. So in true Colt style, I slid the sheet under a pile of unread books and worked on something else instead.

I know what’s going to happen.

A headache will thump away in the back of my head while I pretend the assignment doesn’t exist. Then the night before, I’ll pull an all-nighter in a desperate attempt to produce something that will no doubt be total bullshit. I’ll get an F and Miss Wilder will call my parents, who will then request a meeting with the principal.

I’ll be ineligible to play and my parents will then spend the next week lecturing me with triumphant smirks on their faces. The speeches are always the same.

“Football is only holding you back, Colt. You need to apply yourself to your studies or you’ll never amount to anything. You know you have to work harder than everybody else. Stop wasting your time with football and set yourself up for a future you can succeed in!”

It doesn’t matter that I took myself to Boise State University this summer and sweated blood trying to get noticed by the coaches. Mom and Dad don’t even care that I impressed them so much, there’s a chance they might offer me a place on the Boise State Broncos. They’re going to watch me closely this season and let me know.

I flew home on cloud nine and all my parents said was, “Well, I guess we’ll see. Just be careful not to pin all your hopes on this dream, Colt. We don’t want you to be crushed when it doesn’t happen.”

Talk about a buzz kill.

I avoided them for the rest of the summer, throwing myself into football and training, determined to prove them wrong.

The only thing stopping me from playing college ball is my stupid schoolwork.

I rub my forehead and cringe. I wish I could tell someone the truth. It’d be such a relief to open up and let it all out, but it’d be the end of everything I care about.

The second my parents find out I’m struggling in my very first week of school, they’ll pull me off the team and make me pour every ounce of energy I have into managing the problem. It took me all summer to convince them football wouldn’t interfere with my studies and I could totally keep up with the workload. I don’t want to be lumped with yet another tutor who is a total time-suck and only makes things worse. This
problem
is a mountain I don’t want to climb.

I don’t even want to tell Finn.

Nightmares from my elementary days float to the surface. My face bunches with a tight frown and I slump back in my seat. I never want to go back to being the loner-loser bullies thrive on taunting. Before we moved to Nelson, I was a friendless nobody who used to take the long way home from school so I wouldn’t get beat up. It’s probably one of the reasons I’m such a good running back. I perfected the art of reading a crowd, finding a hole, and punching through it. I escaped numerous black eyes by dodging Ryan Landon and his gang. I was the scrawny kid who didn’t know how to read; of course they were going to go after me. Moving to Nelson saved my life. Being discovered by my middle school coach and becoming one of the best running backs in Nelson High School football has made me who I am today…and I don’t want that to change.

Which is why I have to get the grades I need this year.

My expression crumples as the tension in my neck increases. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do it. Maybe I should consider asking someone for help. I don’t think I can stomach another one of the geriatric tutors my parents always find for me. But who else is there?

“Hey, Colt.” I flinch and look up to see Tori standing next to me, a cute little grin on her face.

Great, just what I need.

“Hey.” I force a smile, hoping to hide my silent angst. It’s probably a good thing she’s come over. I don’t want to be stressing when the guys arrive. Not that any of them will notice.

“Can I take your order?” Tori taps her pen on her notepad. She looks nervous for some reason. I can’t figure out why.

“I’m just waiting for the guys.” I point to the door, giving her an easy smile and hoping she’ll leave so I can collect myself before the guys all lumber in the door.

No one knows about my loser years. I didn’t even tell my parents. I’d make up stories about being a klutz and falling down the stairs at school. I never wanted to admit that my banged-up face and body were the result of bullies. Coming to Nelson was a fresh start for me. Becoming a Raider gave me a status I’d never had before, and I was going to do everything in my power not to screw up my position.

I glance past Tori’s petite body and check the door. The guys still aren’t here and, for some weird reason, Tori hasn’t turned and walked away from my table.

I look up in time to see her bite her lip. Her button nose twitches as she pulls in a breath, and then she makes my day even worse by sliding into the booth opposite me.

“Can I ask you a question?”

#5:

Total Bust

Tori

Why am I doing this now?

Colt seems kind of antsy and as I slide into the booth seat, the tight smile drops from his face. His blue eyes swirl with a vague look of panic before settling on me with a
get lost
vibe that even a blind man would notice.

I swallow, tempted to hightail it back to the kitchen. But if I act like a chicken now, I’ll end up regretting it for the rest of the night. It’s time to stop messing around and stop wasting my time. Senior year won’t go any slower just because I’m terrified.

I clear my throat and shove the pen back into my messy bun. Colt’s eyebrows bunch in a
you’re weird
kind of expression, which I tell myself is a good thing. I’m not cool. I never have been. Hopefully that will prey on Colt’s need to help people and he’ll be forced to say yes to my proposal.

Letting out a breath, I look at his gorgeous face and say, “I need your help. And it’s kind of embarrassing, but I don’t really know who else to ask.”

His lips purse to the side and he glances at the door again. It’s obvious he wants me gone before the team arrives.

I sit up straight and rush through my next line. “The thing is, it’s senior year. My last chance to have the high school experience I’ve always wanted. I’ve spent the last three years sitting on the sidelines, wishing for something and then not doing anything to make it happen. I have to do something about it this year or I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. And living with regret sucks, right? I mean, you can never take it back, you know?” Desperation and nerves are making my voice kind of high. I press my lips together, begging my heart to slow down.

Colt’s
you’re weird
expression is only getting stronger, so I look down at the table and spit out my request. “You see, I really, really like someone on your team, and I was wondering if you could help me get his attention.”

I glance up with a hopeful smile.

Colt’s expression has flat-lined. His baffled look has been replaced with an incredulous stare that only makes him look more gorgeous. It’s so not fair. How can that expression still look good on someone?

I fidget with my bracelets, filling the awkward space between us with more words. “I know that sounds stupid, but my mission to avoid regret this year really forces me into this position. I have to try. I just…” I sigh. “Please help me. I don’t know who else to ask.”

Colt clenches his jaw, the muscles on his face tightening.

I want to kiss him.

Tapping the menu with his index finger, he looks me in the eye and murmurs, “It’s Mack, isn’t it?”

His question catches me off guard, so I let out this breathy little laugh and smile at him. I’ll stick with that assumption. It’s not like I can admit the truth.

“You know, he’s really not into having a long-term girlfriend. I wouldn’t want you wasting your time.” Colt’s voice is soft, his blue eyes lighting with a tender smile as he delivers the blow as gently as he can.

My insides twitch—a mixture of disappointment, panic and ever-present desire.

I’m such a mess. Why am I attempting this again?

Senior year. No regrets. Last chance. Come on, Tori. Focus!

I lick my lower lip and force a confident smile. “I know you probably think this is kind of lame, but I’ve thought this through. I’m willing to waste my time if it means scoring the guy of my dreams.”

Guy of my dreams?

Seriously? How lame am I?

My eyes dart back to the table as my cheeks flare with color. “I mean, maybe once he gets to know me, he’ll realize that I’m the kind of girl he wants to hang out with.”

I catch the tail end of Colt’s cringe when I glance up. His face is wrinkled, his strong features tight as he looks at my face and tries to put me off without even saying anything.

“I know I’m not like you guys, okay? I get that, but maybe if someone showed me how to fit in, then…”

His cringe morphs into a grimace that’s kind of insulting.

I frown, my heart deflating. He’s not going to go for it. I’ve made everything worse by asking.

In a bid to save face, I flick my hand in the air and rise from the table.

“Okay, fine. You don’t want to help me, that’s okay.” I twist my big topaz ring around my finger then slide it up to my knuckle and back. “Maybe you could just give me a few pointers? I mean, what would help? Should I learn the rules of football and start going to games, or should I dress like a cheerleader…or become a raving alcoholic? I mean, what will work?”

Colt chuckles, his eyes sparkling as he shakes his head at me. But then he swallows, his voice dropping low and quiet. “Honestly, Tori, I don’t think anything will work.”

My hopeful grin disintegrates. It’s impossible to hide my disappointment, and tears start to burn the back of my eyes. I nod, my lower lip trembling as I try for another smile and end up doing that stupid, breathy little laugh again. “Yeah, of course, I mean…” I swallow, begging my eyes not to water. “I get it.”

I spin on my heel and dart away from the table, blinking furiously. Humiliation turns my legs to liquid, and as soon as I burst through the double doors that lead to the break room they give out. I flop onto the upturned crate and hide my face in my hands.

The door squeaks and my shoulders tense as someone walks into the room. With a soft sigh, Amy sits down next to me and starts rubbing circles on my back.

“So, how did it go?” Her voice is filled with tender playfulness. In true style, she’s not being smug or irritating.

I peek up at her and frown. “
Operation Fall for Tori:
Phase One B—total bust.”

She gives me a glum smile and kisses the side of my head. “I love that you were brave enough to try, sweetie.”

My response is a soft sigh. I can’t manage anything more. Looks like senior year is going to be exactly the same as the last three.

Amy squeezes me to her side. “Do you want me to cover Table 18 tonight?”

I should say no, but I can’t. My head bobs and I flash her a grateful smile. “Love you, Ames.”

She grins and kisses my forehead before leaving me to gather what’s left of my dignity. I’m such an idiot. I don’t know why I thought Colt wouldn’t be able to resist helping me. I slash my finger across my cheek and sniff, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. High school has changed Colt—I’m not blind. I guess I was just hoping that the tenderhearted kid I used to play with in fifth grade was still in there somewhere.

Obviously not.