Catching Jordan

Mom stares down at me, concern etched on her face. “I love you,” she mouths.

I wave at her, thinking how much I needed that. Northgate kicks off, and Henry makes it to the thirty before getting slammed to the ground. The team and fans erupt, screaming and clapping, and the marching band plays the fight song. I run out onto the field with JJ, who slaps my back before we get into formation. My hands shake.

“Z-spread eighteen,” I shout, and JJ hikes me the bal . I pedal three steps backward, scanning the field, then zip a short pass to Higgins. He jumps to catch the bal , but it sails right over his head. Incomplete.

“Damn it,” I mutter. I wipe my sweaty palms on my towel.

Back into formation.

JJ hikes the bal again. Keeping it simple, I hand off to Bates, and we gain fifteen yards. Nice.

Next play? I hurl the bal downfield to Henry, but he sidesteps a cornerback at the last second, and the bal lands directly in the cornerback’s arms.

Interception.

The cornerback darts down the field toward our end zone, and I sprint over and throw myself at him, but I miss the tackle, flip, and crash onto my back in the grass. Ow.

grass. Ow.

The cornerback scores. Because of me.

Because I’m playing like complete crap.

When I run back over to the benches, Carter says,

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” I only had one interception al last year, and that’s when I blew it at the state championship. I can’t blow it again.

JJ and I hustle back out after Northgate kicks off.

“You’ve got this, Woods,” he says.

On the first play, I hand off to Bates for ten yards, but then on the next snap, I fumble the bal and as I’m scrambling after it, I get slammed and my helmet smashes into the ground. My nose feels like someone hurled a brick at it.

Thank God JJ recovers the bal .

We lose the ten yards.

Breathing deeply, my hands keep shaking as I huddle with the guys. “Go route to Henry. I’m bombing it straight down the field.”

We clap and break, and JJ hikes the bal again. I dash back several feet, avoiding the linebacker trying to sack me, and throw the bal to Henry, but it’s way short. I don’t get enough on the throw and he runs the wrong route—he was supposed to come back on the bal , but didn’t.

Northgate intercepts again.

“Shit!” I yel . Higgins manages to tackle the safety who got the pick on me, but it’s Northgate’s bal again. I can hear my teammates shouting from the bench, including Ty. “What the hel , Woods?” he cal s out with his arms spread wide.

I want to yel , “It’s not only my fault!” but captains don’t do that.

Henry jerks his head, looking pissed at himself for messing up the play.

My eyes dart to the fence where al the recruiters and alumni stand, and locate the hat with the Alabama logo on it. The guy’s writing in his notebook and shaking his head. Another guy wearing an orange Tennessee windbreaker is with him. Great. So now Mike wil know I’ve screwed everything up.

I’m a total waste of Alabama’s time.

I yank my chinstrap loose and storm over to the bench as shitloads of cameras blind me like strobe lights. Damned reporters.

Coach walks up, while Henry stands as far away from me as possible, but I can see him panting hard as he glances at me. Good. He should know this is his own damn fault. Couldn’t he have waited until the game was over to destroy my heart?

“What’s going on, Woods?” Coach asks.

“Sorry, Coach,” I say with a shrug.

He whispers, “I’m sorry too. Your head’s not in the game. You’re benched.”

And right then, when I look up into the stands for Mom, I see Dad kiss her cheek and take a seat.

losing it

Ty ran the score up 28–7

Didn’t even look like he was trying as

he bombed the ball down the field over and over again to Higgins

The great Donovan Woods finally showed up Sat in the stands

Signed autographs

Smiled and laughed

It’s like he knew I’d get benched

It’s like he knew Ty would play

So he came

A recruiter from Mike’s school showed up

Gawked at Ty

Even worse?

Mr. Henry came

But didn’t get to see Henry play for real

Ty didn’t make one pass to Henry

I ruined my chances with Alabama

I threw my helmet at my locker

the daily special

will i still get to go to alabama?

After the game, Ty and I head to my truck. He stil wants to talk.

In the parking lot, we pass JJ and Lacey, who are pawing at each other up against her mom’s Ford Taurus. Classy.

Celebratory rap music rings out from Higgins’s truck, and Carrie and Marie are encouraging Carter to start a bonfire.

“Nice game, Ty!” Kristen cal s out, sitting on the tailgate of Higgins’s truck, displaying lots of leg.

“Good job, Green,” Higgins adds, slapping Ty’s back.

And no one looks at me.

Then I see Henry sitting on the tailgate of his truck. With Savannah Bailey standing in front of him, in between his legs. He kisses her and pul s her hips up against him and digs his fingers into her brown hair, and I feel this pain shoot up my arm and into my chest.

“Is there one girl at this school he hasn’t been with?”

Ty asks, nodding at Henry.

“Good question.”

When Henry comes up for air, he looks over Savannah’s shoulder at me. He mouths, “I’m sorry.”

Even though I’m pissed, I give him a slight smile.

“Give me your keys,” Ty says, thrusting his hand in front of me.

“Why?”

“Give me the keys. You’re not driving when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset!” I snap.

“My dad died in a car wreck, you know.”

I reluctantly pass Ty the keys; he rips them from my hand, and we climb into my truck and start to drive. A minute later, I get a text from Henry: I’m really sorry. I text back, Okay.

But it’s not that simple.

Thinking of Henry gives me this dul ache in my chest. How long wil that be around?

Back at Ty’s place, I wait in the living room as he visits his mother, who I stil haven’t met, then I watch as he checks on Vanessa, who’s already asleep. He brushes her hair away from her face and kisses her cheek.

I sit down on Ty’s bed, but he doesn’t join me. He pul s out his desk chair, flips it around toward me and straddles it. Folding his arms across the back of the chair, he rests his chin on his forearms and stares at me.

“You okay?” Ty asks.

“I’m fine.”

“So your dad actual y came tonight…”

I rol my eyes. “Maybe it’s karma for skipping practice for the first time ever.”

“Um, after the game, your dad introduced me to a coach from your brother’s school.”

“Figures,” I say, burying my face in my hands. But like with Henry, I won’t be selfish. I’m not going to sacrifice Ty’s future just because I have a horrible relationship with my father. Looking up, I say with a smile, a real smile, “I think it’s great.”

Ty focuses on the carpet. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He moves to sit with me on the bed, taking my hand in his. “I’m so sorry I yel ed at you the other night.”

“I’m fine…wait. I talked to Dad about his offer to help pay for your mom’s care so you can go to school.” Ty sighs and fal s backward onto his pil ow. I lie down on the pil ow too, taking in its scent of soap. “And I know you don’t want to accept a handout—believe me, I wouldn’t either—but would you be wil ing to consider a loan? To be paid back with interest after col ege?”

loan? To be paid back with interest after col ege?”

Ty stares at me. “Interest.”

“Yeah, like once you’re on an NFL team.”

“There’s no guarantee I’l end up in the NFL.”

“You’l never know unless you try. And you can do that with my parents’ offer. Even if my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet to me, I think you should take advantage. If not for you, for Vanessa. You’l be able to provide so much more for her if you go to col ege.”

“Woods, before I can accept this, I need to know if you real y want this.”

“Of course I want you to take the money and focus on col ege.”

“I meant us. Do you want to date me?”

I do have feelings for him, even if they aren’t as strong as my feelings for Henry. He’s cute and sweet and he total y gets what footbal means to me. “Yes, I do.”

“I real y like you. And with everything that’s happened to me in the past few months, I can’t handle much more.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t care about much of anything except for making sure my mom got taken care of and my sister got to school. Once I got that figured out, for now anyway, I thought I could be selfish for a little while. I could play some bal , make some friends…and then I met you.”

I’m biting my fingernails, feeling that dul ache making way for a much deeper pain. Who ever knew Jordan Woods was capable of being such a heartbreaker? I’m plundering the hearts of footbal players, left and right. It must be the new pushup bras. He continues, “And I’m fal ing for you—I love how driven and serious you are. I can’t believe everything that’s happened between us. But if you’re not going to be mature and serious about me, like I thought you would be, I want out now.”

“You want out?”

“Yeah. If you’re going to keep running off with Henry, doing God knows what, I want out. I don’t like it when I can’t reach you on your cel . I need to know where you are.”

I must be awful y important to him since he’s freaking out like he did with his sister. Picking up a phone isn’t a lot to ask. “I’l pick up from now on. I’m sorry about the other day. I left my phone in the car.” Lie.

“Good. And I can’t stand how Henry gets to stay over at your house at night. So can you not…?”

Um, okay. Al owing Ty to have a say in my friendship with Henry is a lot to ask. I’ve been dating Ty for what?

Five days? And he’s already questioning my friendship with Henry? I guess he has a point. I mean, two days ago, I was total y ready to end this for Henry. But if Henry and I can’t be together, and if he’s going to act like a jerk, and if he’s going to kiss another girl in front of me, I’m not putting my life on hold.

I won’t give up my boyfriend for the best friend who said, “I need some time alone.”

“Ty—I’m serious about me and you. Henry’s been my best friend for ages, and I can’t imagine not hanging out with him, but he won’t be sleeping over anymore. And just so you know, nothing has ever happened between us. You’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted. You’re my first everything.”

“What? Why didn’t you tel me? Jordan…”