All our plays were detailed in that book. Routes our receivers would take. Audibles for Evan to call. I’d scribbled shorthand in the margins the ways I’d read coverage and adjust.
I pushed through the door and scanned the locker room. It was empty, thank fuck. I pounded across the tiles until I reached the stalls, ducked inside one, and shut the door. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and punched Kayla’s number.
“Hey,” she answered, sounding out of breath. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”
“I’m doing weights right now.” A noise came through the phone, which sounded like a car door slamming shut. “Where are you?”
“I just left the fieldhouse. You should be proud of me. I told Lisa I’m done with—”
“Did you know Darius put something in your bag last night?”
“No, let me guess.” Her voice was bright. “He decided he wants to play for a real team and it’s a request to transfer to OSU.” There was the sound of rustling, followed by a zipper.
“I need you to not look at—”
“Oh, holy shit!” She rushed the words out. “Is this what I think it is?”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my fingertips over the crease in my forehead. So much for her not knowing about it.
“Dad, watch the road!” she said. “What the hell is this doing in my bookbag?”
“Your father is with you? Shit, don’t show it to him!” Jesus, this couldn’t get any worse. “I need you to turn around and drive it back right now.”
There was a pause from her, and my heart slowed to a crawl.
“I can’t,” she said. “My car broke down outside of Toledo this morning.”
“What?” I shoved aside worry for myself for a moment and focused on her. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because you don’t have time to spare, and I’ve got it covered.” Like she was trying hard not to need something from me. It sucked extra hard because I needed a big favor from her now. Her tone firmed up. “I can’t get back there today. I’ve got a parade performance tonight.”
My mouth went dry. “Just losing a playbook will get you benched. Imagine what’ll happen when they find out Ohio State’s got it.” I’d be riding the pine the biggest game of my career, and could kiss the post-season goodbye, too. “Please.”
“If I miss an event, I’m done. Lisa will make sure of it. I’ll find someone, or—”
“No, you can’t let anyone know you have it. If it got out, it’s not just me who’s fucking done—it’s my whole team.”
“I can borrow a car from my parents, and drive it up right after,” she said quickly.
“Yeah? What time does the parade end?”
There was a long pause. “I’ll probably be dismissed by ten.”
Hope died as quick as it had started. “So, best case scenario, you’re here at one a.m. and then you gotta turn around and drive right back, all through the night. No way you’re going to stay awake and be able to cheer tomorrow. You’ve got to leave now.”
“Jay, I can’t.”
Frustration itched across my skin and balled my hand into a fist. I pressed my knuckles against the stall door. “Why? Because you’ve got the keys to winning now?”
I regretted it instantly, but it was too late.
Her sound of indignation was fair, followed by, “Excuse me? Of course not.”
“I’m sorry. Look, Darius doesn’t trust you. He’ll tell them what happened if that book’s not back soon. He’s a team captain. I can stall him at least to the end of our rally tonight, but he’s the worst at keeping secrets.” I slid my hand down the door and hung my head. “It’s the biggest game of my life. Kayla, I have to play.”
“I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise, but I’ve spent my whole life wanting to be a Buckeye cheerleader. I can’t lose my spot.”
I’d made tough choices for years to lead me up to tomorrow. Made so many sacrifices. I’d given up friendships, girlfriends, and basically my whole goddamn life. Not playing wasn’t an option.
It was too much pressure, and I cracked under the weight of it. “Because that’s more important than my career. Got it.” I was pissed at the situation and didn’t bother to sugarcoat things. I knew I was lashing out, but couldn’t she understand I was desperate?
I’d swear I could feel her icy look through the phone. The temperature around me plummeted along with her voice. “This isn’t my fault. I shouldn’t have to choose.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I said softly, “but you do. I told you, football’s not always fair.”
The line was quiet. Kayla didn’t seem to have anything to say. The seconds dragged by as she made me wait to hear her answer. The only sound was the muted bass thumping and occasional laughter from the weight room.