Chapter 15

The reporter and the cameraperson are nowhere to be found at practice.

Lance is there, though.

I watch him hop the fence and cross the field. It’s not until he’s thirty yards away that I realize he’s talking to someone—himself? No, he’s on his cell phone.

When he’s only a few feet away he lifts the phone from his ear and says to me, “They seem to think the story’s over.” He shakes his head, baffled. “Don’t worry, though”—he punches my shoulder pad reassuringly—“I got this.”

“They just need to realize that the story’s only just begun,” he says to both me and whoever is on the other end of the phone call.

I have no doubt he’s right. Knowing Lance, he’ll probably talk the news station into bringing a camera for tomorrow’s practice and every other practice I ever play in.

But I still can’t help feeling relieved.

After all, this is my first practice as the starting quarterback.

I’ll have plenty to worry about without having the practice recorded.