The Trouble with You (Rixon Raiders 1)

“So, what did Miss Hampstead say?” Asher asked as we met up outside class.

“She just wanted to run by my college applications again.”

Jase scoffed. “Like she doesn’t know exactly where you’re headed.”

“Nothing’s a given,” I said quietly as we made our way to the locker room.

“You’ll be at Penn with me.” He spoke the words with no hesitation. None. As if it was already a done deal.

I gave him a hard look. “I’m not the golden boy of

Rixon.” The corner of my mouth lifted. “There’s no guarantee the scouts will—”

“They’ll want you,” he said, cutting me off. “You already know they’re interested.”

“I need to have other options though.” Besides, I wasn’t even sure if the call did come, that Penn was what I wanted. It was an Ivy League school and Ivy League meant expensive. So even though it was one of the top football programs in the country, when I had interest from Pittsburg and Michigan State that would most likely come hand-in-hand with athletic scholarships, there was a lot to think about.

“What’s up with you?” Jase shoulder-checked me as he shouldered the door. “You’ve been in a pissy mood all morning.”

“He needs to get laid,” Asher chimed in, slinging his bag onto the bench. “What’s it been, man, like a month?”

“Fuck off.” I yanked off my tee and balled it up, throwing it at him.

“Party at my house tonight?”

“You know it. But don’t invite Khloe or the cheer squad,” Jase said. “It’s only the first week of the semester and I’m about done with her shit already.”

“Maybe we should invite Hailee?” Asher grinned. “Mix it up a bit.”

Jase’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. “Seriously, you’re going to talk to me about her. Now? Do you want someone to end up in medical?”

Asher clapped him on the back. “Call it motivation. Coach said you needed to bring your A game this season.”

“I always bring my A game, fucker.”

“Well you can bring your A+ game then.”

“Did I hear someone say party?” Joel stuck his head around the locker cages.

“Yeah, at my place tonight. Spread the word. But no cheerleaders. Invite the gymnastics team though, those girls are as flexible as fuck.” Asher grinned. “Hey, Cam, maybe you can hook up with Miley?”

“Maybe I will.” I smirked. Miley wasn’t a stage five clinger like most of the girls at Rixon.

“You three going to sit around all day bitchin’ like little girls?” Coach appeared in the door. “Or are we going to play some ball?”

We hurried to slip on our shoulder pads and cleats and filed out of the door onto the football field.

“Bring it in,” Coach boomed, and we moved in to form two semi-circles around him, the front row taking a knee. “Okay, quiet down, quiet down.” He waited for the rumble of our chatter to subside. “It’s been a good week. You’ve come into the semester with the dedication and motivation I expect. Jason.” He addressed my best friend, and our captain. “You’re looking good out there, Son. Are you ready to take your team all the way this season?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m sorry.” Coach Hasson twisted his face, cupping his ear. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said, YES SIR,” Jase yelled, his voice carrying across the field.

“That’s more like it, Son. Last year was tough.” He grimaced. “We knew Rixon East would come at us with everything they had, and they did. It should have been us going to that championship game. But this year, State is ours. Now gather in.” We circled Coach, shoulder to shoulder, until he slipped into the formation, holding his fist in the air. Thirty-five fists followed, then Asher’s, then mine. Finally, Jase threw his fist up and said, “Raiders on three. One… two…”

Our battle cry filled the air, the ripple of energy palpable. There was nothing more electric, more fulfilling, than standing side-by-side with your teammates, your family, ready for a new season. We all felt it: the anticipation, the hint of things to come. We’d been unlucky last year, losing out at a shot at the State Championship to Rixon East. The only silver lining was those motherfuckers took a crushing defeat against Fieldson Hills.