All Lined Up (Rusk University 1)

There’s a giant floating wildcat, maneuvered by students with strings. The homecoming-queen nominees come by in a fancy car, claws up in lieu of the pageant-style waves.

A student organization walks by with individual signs made for each player, and at the very front is a sign for Carson with his number and a painted football that says, “McClain’s domain.”

Stella and I cheer loudly, and Carson just shakes his head, laughing.

Pointing at me, Stella yells, “Here’s some more of McClain’s domain, right here!”

I roll my eyes and shove her, and she pretends like she’s going to topple back off the wall. I let her have her fun, and then I lean down close to Carson’s ear.

“You’re looking awfully smug.”

He leans to the side, looking up at me over his shoulder.

“What? I’m not allowed to enjoy the idea of you being mine?”

I smile, enjoying the thought myself.

“Fine. Enjoy away.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

Stella cuts in. “Can you please do that enjoying at his place?”

We promise to do just that, and when the parade is over, we walk Stella back to the dorm, and then head to his apartment.

Despite Stella’s teasing, we’re both yawning by the time we make it up the stairs and through his door. We kick off our shoes and shed our winter layers. Carson lies down on the couch, and I grab his blanket and settle down beside him. With my head on his chest and his arms around me, I feel certain that I’ve never been more comfortable.

“Carson?”

Sleepily, he kisses my forehead and replies, “Hmm?”

“I kinda love you, too.”

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising steeply below my cheek.

“Kinda?”

“Still so needy,” I tease. “Fine. I love you.”

He tips my head up, and looks down at me. His eyes are clear and vivid blue, and his smile would take me to my knees if I weren’t already laying down.

“I’ll always need you, Daredevil.”

Chapter 31

Carson

Coach Cole has to shout in the locker room to be heard over the roar from the stadium above us before the game. The bands are already playing, and the people are screaming, and their energy bleeds through the walls until we’re all buzzing with it.

I bounce my knees, trying to stay warm. Silas is doing the same, and we nod at each other. The tension is high tonight. We’ve got our biggest crowd of the season so far, and there are a lot of eyes out there expecting a show.

The coaches are lined up around the room, almost as on edge as the players. Ryan is there with them, and he too gives me a nod.

It’s the only thing to do, really, when you meet someone else’s eyes. We’re all trying to stay quiet and focused.

Coach finishes with all his little reminders about the other team’s weaknesses that we’ve discussed throughout the week, along with our own that we need to be aware of. He steps away from the whiteboard that’s covered in plays and notes and takes his time looking around the room, meeting each of our eyes.

“Tonight is our night, gentlemen. They may call it homecoming for the alumni and the tradition and the festivities, but for us today that grass is your home. It’s yours to protect, yours to control. Today is the day where we put that number three behind us, and bring home win number four. Today we let go of the past, and move on to our future. Today, I expect you to leave absolutely everything you have on that field. If we have to drag each other back into this locker room, bloody and exhausted and in pain, that’s okay. Because we’ll be dragging that win in with us.”

He steps over toward the exit, and I notice a tarp hanging over the door that wasn’t there before. We all remain where we are while Coach reaches up and tugs the thing down.

In clean black letters just above the door, it reads:

“No Easy Days.”

“Today, we start a new tradition, gentlemen. It’s time we let go of the old Rusk. We’re no longer one of the weakest teams in the conference. We’ve been put through the fire, and we’ve come out stronger for it. Now who’s ready to prove it?”

We surge to our feet with a roar, and I let myself be carried away by the energy of the group. Our bodies crash into one another as we raise our hands up and scream.

As we line up and file out the door, each player reaches up and slaps a hand on the phrase above the door.

And I know as I stare at those words that it’s the hard days that end up being the most important in the end.

Four fifteen-minute quarters. That’s all we’ve got.

I can lay it all out there for sixty minutes, and I trust that my team will do the same.

We gather in the blow-up tunnel that leads from our locker room out onto the field. They’ve got the fog machines going, so that it’s hard to see anything that isn’t right in front of us.

The crowd is deafening outside, and I make my way up to the front of the team, and Silas is there waiting for me. I’m still a little unsure how to feel about the guy, but he’s undeniably the other leader of this team.

We’re nothing alike. Where I’m all about discipline and focus, Moore is pure heart. I wouldn’t trust him with a thing off this field, but on it, I know he’ll always have my back, and he’ll give it everything he’s got.

When everyone is inside the tunnel, huddled close, I shout, “Are we ready?”

The team roars back.

Silas shouts, “Will today be easy?”

The returned “No” drowns out even the crowd.

I yell, “How many wins are we leaving with today?”

“Four!”

Silas and I turn to face the end of the tunnel, and the team howls behind us.

When we burst out of the tunnel and out onto the field, my ears ring from the noise, even through my helmet.

I don’t let myself look at the stands, knowing I wouldn’t be able to find Dallas in the masses even if I did.

Coach catches me before we head out for the coin flip. He places his hand on my helmet. He does this before every game. Usually he looks past my face guard, into my eyes, and asks, “You got this?”

It’s become our routine.

Today, though, it’s different. He looks at me for a few long seconds, and then in lieu of his normal question he nods and makes a statement instead.

“You’ve got this.”