Sidelined 2: Intercepted

Chapter 2

DRAYTON

As soon as the ball left my grip, I knew that it was golden. It was muscle memory. Instinct. I'd been doing this long enough—most of my life, really—and knew what I could do. Knew when I was right on target. The ball sailed down the field. Perfect spin. Perfect arc. The guys scrambled into position, and it landed right where I wanted. Zach caught it, tucked it under his arm, and took off into the end zone. Touchdown.

Two women watching from the stands clapped and cheered. For a second, I thought one of them was going to lift her top in salute, but they didn't get that far—only a lot of leaning forward in low-cut tops and short skirts.

"Lahey! I'll catch whatever you throw my way too!" one of them shouted.

There were usually a few girls hanging around during practice. Or waiting by the stadium exits when we were leaving. At parties, it felt like they'd been bussed in. It had been pretty easy to hook up in high school if I was looking, but college football was next level. We were still in preseason, and the offers were already plentiful. Some of the guys kept the girls busy, but I kept my distance. Only had eyes (and hands, and all other body parts) for Dallas. She was way more than enough for me. I gave the women in the stands a quick nod instead of a wave and turned back to the next huddle.

"We might actually get somewhere this year," Marcus said as he took his position beside me. He was small for a linebacker, topping out at maybe 225, but he made up for it with speed. He could block any run and protect the receiver, assuming we got the ball that far. "Good to see Zach having something to do."

"That's what I'm here for."

The team was still a bit of a mess. They'd shit the bed last season, their quarterback had tanked, and the brass had opted to shake things up. New coach, reordered lineup, new quarterback. Me. I was also a late addition, which meant it was a tough adjustment for some, mostly the old quarterback.

USC had always been a top choice for me, but it complicated things with my dad. He wanted me at Waco, where he and my grandfather had both gone. Growing up, choosing anything but Waco was never an option. Even when we were little kids, my sister, Abby, used to tease me about being the next appointed prince of Waco. When I told my dad I wanted to go to Los Angeles, it wasn't pretty. He accused me of following my girlfriend, accused Dallas of leading me astray like she was a siren calling a sailor out to sea. The negotiations were so tense that I didn't even tell Dallas in case they fell through. It was also pretty sweet to show up at her dorm wearing a USC sweatshirt, with the news that I was a short freeway ride away. That made for a damn good reunion night. It was only later that I realized the roads between LA and Valencia were usually a shit show, and my new team was struggling to gel. Still, there wasn't an ounce of regret in me. And I was going to prove to everyone that I'd made the right decision.

Summer training camp had been intense, but now everyone was back on campus, and we were under the microscope. It was like Archwood on steroids. Or whatever they gave Captain America. These were good players, and this could be a great team if we ever found our groove, but there was too much playing at cross-purposes. Guys trying to be the star player. Most of them were juniors and seniors and could see their getting-drafted-to-the-NFL clock ticking. They needed the scouts to see them. Needed to have that one shining moment even if the team was sinking. We needed to pull it together.

I looked over for a signal from Coach Watson, but he only nodded. He was testing me. Seeing what I could do. How I was going to lead us through the rest of this practice game. No problem. Being in charge was my sweet spot. I'd been playing football all my life, watched my dad in the NFL and had him looking over my shoulder for all my games. I knew how to get the job done.