Practice for the rest of the week went a lot better. There was no need to call Marshall back out onto the field to show me up. My friends were all proud of me, and we were all in sync once more. It felt good. I felt good. Jackson mentioned a Halloween party, and while I agreed to go, I was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe I needed to cut back on the partying.
I need to get serious and focus on football and nothing else. Get through the season with a clear head and a clean—and impressive—record. Even though I told everyone I was going to the Halloween party, I was starting to consider backing out without telling anyone.
Not because of Ava, but because of me. I wanted to help myself. Fix myself. Once I’m fixed, then I can repair my broken relationships, right?
But then Jackson had to call and tell me who else was coming to the party.
“You will never fucking believe it,” he says to me, like it’s some big surprise.
“Who?”
It’s Thursday night and I’m kicking it in my room after taking a shower. I’m exhausted, ready to crash, but Jackson texted me asking if I could talk.
“Brenden.”
I sit up in bed. “You mean Brenden, my old best friend, Brenden?”
We were close since freshman year, but then things kind of got weird thanks to his girlfriend at the time, and then I got closer to Jackson, which I think made Brenden jealous. We even got into a fight. Verbal and physical. God, we were stupid back then.
We made up, but our friendship was never really the same. He spent all of his time with that chick, and I was spending every free moment I had with Ava.
We graduated; Brenden went to college up north and I went to Fresno State. We ran into each other once, about a year out of high school. We still follow each other on Instagram, but he doesn’t post much.
“Yep, that Brenden. Weirdest thing. I stopped at the Dollar General to buy some Muddy Buddies or whatever the fuck they’re called for Ellie, because she’s craving that shit constantly lately, and I ran into him while I was wandering the aisles,” Jackson explains. “We got to talking and he said he’d dropped out of college and came home to help his mom out. I guess his parents got a divorce or some shit. I don’t know. Anyway, I mentioned the party to him and he said he’d be down and I told him you would be there.”
“No shit.” I’m silent for a moment. “What the fuck are Muddy Buddies?”
Jackson laughs. “I’ll send you a pic of the bag. Ellie says they’re delicious. Anyway, you have to go to the party since your friend will be there. You two haven’t seen each other in years.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m down. I’d love to see Brenden,” I say, meaning every word. I’ll get to spend time with my old high school friend.
I’m actually looking forward to it.
Jackson blows out an exaggerated breath. “All right. Cool. I’m glad you’re going.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I think about running into Ava at the party. Will she talk to me? Listen to me? Or will she ignore me?
She’d break my heart if she ignored me.
Damn it, I want Ava. I want her to be mine again.
“I’m already at the house so whenever you can, come over. Oh, and it’s a costume party,” he adds.
“I’m not wearing a costume,” I say firmly.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Not in the mood for fun.” If that isn’t the truth, I don’t know what is. Lighthearted fun is not in my plans for the foreseeable future.
“You need some, my friend. Whether you realize it or not,” Jackson says, his voice lowering. I hear a door opening in the background, and then it’s quietly shut.
“The night before a big game? I can’t get too shit-faced.” We don’t have a strict no drinking policy for the team, but our coaches all frown upon it. They know we’ll be up to no good and sneaking it if they flat-out banned alcohol, but they always give us little speeches about “thinking smart” and “not fucking up our chances with a few extra drinks the night before.”
In other words, they’re not big fans of us partying during the football season, and I get it. I’ve seen more than one guy on the team stumble and eventually get kicked off the team or they drop out because partying has consumed them completely. I like to party, but I’m not about to let alcohol control my life.
I’ve witnessed too much of that thanks to my mother.
“You won’t,” Jackson says, because he has all the faith in me that I wish I had in myself. “I want you to see this place. It’s fucking awesome. I’m thinking about buying it.”
“Is it for sale?”
“I don’t know, but I bet for the right price, I could make it mine. Ellie loves it. It’s close to where her parents live, and it’s been completely remodeled. Sits right on the lake. The view is spectacular. With a huge wraparound deck. We’ve already fucked around out here.” He chuckles.
“No details, please.” I sound like a damn prude, but shit. I don’t want to hear about his great sex life with Ellie.
Jackson sighs, sounding put out. “Just—get your ass out here when you can, okay? The sooner, the better. I know you don’t have class tomorrow.”
“I’ve got practice.”
“Friday practices aren’t as intense. Coach doesn’t want to overwork you all,” he reminds me. A little detail he knows because, hell, he used to be on the team.
“Come up when you can. I miss you, bro. We can shoot the shit for a while before the party starts. It’ll be like old times,” he says, his tone smooth. Like he’s trying to charm me or something.
“Where will Ellie be?”
“I set her up with a spa visit, but she doesn’t know about it yet. Girl thinks she’s going to decorate the house tomorrow for the party.” He laughs. “I hired someone to come and set it all up. It’s going to be fucking spooky as shit. Can’t wait.”
“Sounds like you’re sparing no expense.” And just for a Halloween party.
“Anything to make my girl happy,” he says. “She really wanted to have a party with our friends. So here I am, blowing a bunch of cash on a party for you assholes, who won’t even appreciate it.”
We both laugh. “You’re so pussy-whipped, Rivers.”
“Yeah, you don’t hear me complaining though, do you?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply. “I’m going to marry that girl. Just you watch.”
I’ve barely ended the call when there’s a knock on my door. Caleb doesn’t wait for me to say come in or fuck off. He just opens the door and barges in, his expression full of…
Despair?
“I’m sorry,” he says, without hesitating for even a second. “I feel like a dick for what I said to you a few days ago and it’s been hanging over me ever since. I just talked to Gracie about it, and she told me I should apologize.”
“So you’re apologizing because your girlfriend said you should?” I’m not letting him off the hook so easily. We’ve been there for each other the last three years. I’ve gotten into it with him a few times, but he feels like a brother to me. And brothers fight sometimes. Ryan and I used to all the damn time when we were kids.
“Nah. I’ve wanted to, but you’ve been icing me out ever since it happened.” He looks butt-hurt, when he’s the one who said all that shitty stuff.
“I accept your apology,” I tell him, watching as his shoulders sag with relief. “It felt like you were taking Ava’s side. And that you weren’t taking my pain seriously.”
He steps farther into the room, settling in the chair at my desk. “You sound really dramatic right now. It’s taking everything inside of me not to make some crack about your so-called pain, but I’m restraining myself.”
“Gee, thanks.” I grab one of my pillows and toss it at him, nailing him right in the face. “Asshole.”
“I know you’re hurting,” he continues. “And I’m here for you, bro. But don’t make me turn on Ava. I can’t take sides. I love you both.”
I suppose I could make a crack about him using the word love in reference to me, but I do him the same favor he did for me and I refrain from making a joke of it. “You going to Jackson’s party tomorrow?”
His face breaks out in a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Let’s go together? Or are you going with Gracie?” I do my best not to make a face.
“You know, they’re all going up early to get ready with Ellie. I guess the place they’re staying at is like a palace,” Caleb says. “So yeah, I’ll go with you. You wearing a costume?”
I finally give in and make a face. “No way.”
“Really? I am.” He puffs out his chest.
I’m scared to ask. “What are you going as?”
“A pimp.” He starts laughing. “Gracie found some cheesy ass costume online and ordered it for me. It’s fucking fabulous. I can’t wait to wear it.”
I laugh too because that is going to be something to see. “You got gold chains and shit?”
“You know it.” He nods, still smiling. “A cane. A hat. The shirt doesn’t even have buttons, so my chest is completely exposed. Wish I had a giant fur coat. That would be a nice touch.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, shaking my head.
“And I’m sorry.” His expression turns serious again. “Seriously. I feel the need to say it again because I was a dick out on the field, but I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Way too soon, bro,” I say, my voice quiet.
“Totally realize that now.” He rises and takes a few steps closer to the bed, holding his hand. “We good?”
I take his hand and we perform some elaborate handshake that’s automatic. “We’re good.”
* * *
I whistle low as Jackson takes us onto the third-floor deck of the house they’re staying in for the weekend. The scent of pine trees hits me hard up this high, and the sky is a crisp blue, the sun shining on the water just in front of us. “This is pretty fucking nice, Jackson.”
“Right? I don’t ever want to leave.” He takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before exhaling loudly. “Kind of big for just two people, though.”
“Plenty big for a party,” Caleb says as he goes for the black metal railing that lines the entire deck. “This view is unbelievable.”
“I know.” Jackson wanders around the deck, his head tilted back as he takes in the towering trees surrounding the house. It’s quiet outside, the wind whispering through the pines. There are a few birds chirping in the distance and I can hear the low hum of a boat’s engine on the water. “I need to write for my next album and I haven’t been able to concentrate long enough to work on lyrics. Ellie suggested staying here for a few months.”
I don’t want to get my hopes up at the thought of having Jackson here for a couple of months. Having him around always makes me miss the fucker. “You seriously considering it?”
“I am,” he says with a nod. “This place could end up covered in snow in a few weeks. Talk about beautiful.”
“I hate snow,” Caleb says, turning to face us. “Wait, I take that back. I loved a good snow day when we were kids and didn’t have to go to school.”
“I have nowhere else to be for the next few months,” Jackson says. “And I owe the label an album.”
“The pressure’s on,” I tell him, and he nods in agreement.
We’re all dealing with pressure. It’s not just me and the football team or Jackson and his record label. Caleb has his own pressure, trying to figure out what to do with his life. Or Tony and his dad trying to convince him to join the family business. I’ve always had suspicions they were involved in the freaking mafia, but maybe that’s just me being overly dramatic.
I remember my dad telling my brother, a long time ago, that everyone has stress, it’s how you handle it that makes the difference. Most of the time, his advice is bullshit and I can’t take it seriously. Mostly because he never follows his own damn advice. The way he handles stress is running away from his problems. My brother is much the same.
I frown, realization hitting me. I don’t run away from my problems. I blame other people and can’t admit when I’ve done something wrong.
That’s kind of fucked up.
No, that’s actually really fucked up.
“Where are the girls?” I ask, wanting to get it out of the way. I have a suspicion Ava is with them.
“At the day spa at Tenaya Lodge,” Jackson says with a grin. “All the ladies are getting special treatment today, thanks to me.”
“Showoff,” Caleb mutters. “Making me look bad.”
“I doubt that. Gracie looks at you as if you can do no wrong,” Jackson tells him, shaking his head. “Still can’t believe you two are together.”
“I love her,” Caleb says simply. “She makes my life better. I don’t know why I denied wanting a girlfriend for so long.”
“You were waiting for her ass,” Jackson says, like that explains everything. “That’s how I feel about Ellie, at least.”
I think of Ava and how I chased after her. Was that the wrong move? I’m not a chill dude. I can’t wait for things to happen to me. I’m the one who’s always making it happen.
And maybe that’s where I fucked up with Ava. I forced myself on her and she had no choice but to be with me.
Maybe we were never meant to be.
“How many people are coming to this party tonight?” I ask, desperate to get my mind off Ava.
“I don’t know. A lot.” Jackson grins. “We invited at least fifty, and told them to invite their friends. With over five thousand square feet, this place can accommodate them.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of potential people.” Caleb glances around. “They could fuck this place up.”
“I’m not worried,” Jackson says easily. “If it ends up a mess, I’ll hire someone to clean it.”
“Must be nice to not have to worry about money,” Caleb says.
“You have no idea,” Jackson says. “You’ll be there someday, my friend.”
Maybe Caleb will, maybe not. I don’t think any of us will know what it’s like to have the sort of money and fame Jackson has.
“You’ve got us all beat,” I tell Jackson. “Mr. Fancy Leather Pants Rock Star.”
I will never let him live down the leather pants he wore in a music video last year. So tight I swear I could make out the outline of his junk, which he denied, but come on.
Women went nuts for those leather pants. He has legions of female fans.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says good-naturedly. “You’re just mad you’d never look as good as me in leather pants.”
“What the hell ever,” I mutter, all of us laughing.
“And don’t count yourself out. You’re about to embark on an NFL career,” Jackson says.
“True,” Caleb adds.
“Maybe.” I shrug.
I don’t know if it’ll actually happen. I’d love to play for a professional team, but could I stand the pressure? Could I actually make it onto the team? All that old doubt resurfaces like it always does and I try my best to shove it away, but it’s hard.
Tomorrow’s game is important—we need to clench our position in the playoffs, and every game matters. This means we’re drawing closer to playing in a college bowl—with me as the quarterback. The last time that happened, Ash Davis took us. This season, it’s on me. It’s my last shot for glory. I don’t want to choke up and lose. What if I keep losing? What if my chance at a bowl win is lost? All thanks to me?
I can barely stomach the idea. I need to focus. No drinking tonight. They all say I need to get fucked up so I can forget my problems, but fuck that.
I’m having a calm evening, catching up with Brenden and the rest of these assholes, and I’m going to crash early. Jackson offered me a bedroom to stay the night in and I took him up on it. I can leave first thing in the morning with plenty of time to get to the stadium for the game. It’s all set up perfectly.
I can’t let anyone distract me from the end goal. Not even Ava.
Especially not myself.