The Trouble with You (Rixon Raiders 1)

When I’d gotten home last night, Mom and Xander were both asleep. Dad had two beers on ice, waiting to toast our first win of the season. We’d stayed up late, watching old game tapes, talking about Pee Wee and JV. But we didn’t talk about the elephant in the room.

And this morning, when I finally dragged myself out of bed, my muscles sore and bones bruised, Mom seemed in good spirits. She’d even made us all breakfast. It was nice. Normal.

It was just like old times.

“You need anything else, you just give me a shout, okay?”

“I could use a good hard—” Mackey started but Sara cut him off. “You come back and see me when you’re twenty-one, hot stuff.” She winked, giving him a little smile before sauntering off, putting extra sass in her step.

Mackey sank back against his chair and groaned. “What I wouldn’t pay to ride that.”

“Sara’s hot but she doesn’t fuck football players,” Asher said, squirting ketchup all over his meal. “Not even QB One, isn’t that right, Jase?”

“She’s got too much of a smart mouth for me. I like my women to talk less and suck more.”

“Yeah,” Mackey added. “But imagine what she can do with those pouty lips.” A goofy expression came over him and Grady leaned over, hitting him upside the head. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We have a game to focus on.”

“Dude, we just kicked Marshall’s ass last night. I think we’re allowed a little downtime.”

“Fucking sophomores,” someone grumbled.

“I heard that.”

“Chill,” Jase said to Mackey as he cut his Bell’s Special Burger in half. The thing was just too damn big to try to eat whole. “We get it, you’re amped, but Kaiden is right, the only thing you need to be focusing on is the next game, and the one after that, right up until week ten. Got it?”

“Got it,” Mackey grumbled. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look though, right?” His eyes slid back to where Sara was serving another table.

Jase and I shared an amused look. We knew how it was: the raging hormones, the buzz of being gods amongst men. In a town like Rixon, making Varsity was a badge of honor that o

pened doors: to colleges, to girls, to a free pass for screwing up every now and again. But it also came with expectation and pressure. Expectation to be the best; to work hard and give your all. Joel Mackey might not have understood it now, but after a season under Coach Hasson and his team, he would. Those guys broke you down until you were nothing but blood and bone and then pieced you back together until you were hardened, inside and out. Until no team—no matter how big or strong or aggressive—was a threat. Rixon High’s football program built warriors. Molded young men full of heart and grit and determination. As Coach Hasson liked to remind us every chance he got, ‘great men aren’t born, they’re made’.

And Rixon High only made the best.

But there was no denying that sometimes it was a heavy burden to shoulder. And blowing off a little steam now and again was the only way to push through.

“So, Jase,” Grady piped up. “What’s the plan for Rivals Week?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” The wicked glint in my best friend’s eyes had my attention.

“Oh, come on. It’s only two weeks away; you can tell us.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“But it’ll involve a little trip across the river, am I right?”

“We should hit their place, tag some Vikings on their field house,” Kaiden said.

“Or hack their social media accounts and troll the shit out of them.” Mackey grinned, clearly impressed with his own idea.

“Speaking of which, Thatcher is talking smack on Twitter again.” Kaiden held up his cell phone. “Check this crap out.” He handed Jase his cell and the two of us scanned the screen.

* * *

@ThatcherQB1: What’s black and blue and broken all over? The Raiders after we get a hold of them #comingforyou #rivalsweek

* * *

Jase tensed beside me. “He’s a fucking idiot.”