“It makes sense you would be the one to get it,” I say, and I notice the more I talk, the more he calms down.
“Why would you say that?”
“You told me you’re the offensive left tackle.” His expression starts to soften.
“I did.” I’m sure he’s putting together that I googled what that was.
“You cover his blindside. The offensive left tackle is usually the most skilled player on the offensive line.”
Finally Tate gives me a smile, but it only lasts a few seconds. “You’ve had a run-in with him before, haven’t you?”
“Kinda.” I shrug. “I met him in town before school started. He asked me to a party, and I turned him down. His friends started teasing him over it, and I could tell he was pissed.”
“Jack’s not used to being turned down. His fragile ego is taking some big blows this week.” Tate reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Don’t be alone with him, Rosie. Not ever.”
“I won’t,” I promise him, and he holds my hand a little tighter. “Your job is to protect Jack, and you were about to lay him out.”
“We’re not on the field.” He stares straight into my eyes. “And he’s not what I’m protecting.”
Now his words are blindsiding me.
Chapter Eight
TATE
It’s Friday, which means it’s the first game of the season, and each day before now has felt like a countdown to something big. During school, I divide my thoughts between classes, football, and Rosie. But every night belongs to only her.
All we’ve been able to do is text, but sometimes we talk until the sun comes up, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. Every moment I’m with her, all I can think about is how I want time to slow down, and when she’s not with me, it feels like time stands still.
It’s Friday morning, and we don’t have practice, so I told Rosie I’d pick her up before school. She was reluctant, and I didn’t understand why, even after asking a few times. We settled on meeting in the parking lot, which still doesn’t feel right, but I have to respect her choice to not let me come to her home.
“Are you ready for tonight?” my mom asks when I’ve finished breakfast.
“Yep.” I nod and take my dishes to the sink.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” The tone in her voice has me turning around, and I see there’s worry in her eyes.
“What is it?” I straighten and give her my full attention.
“Coach called. He said you made captain?”
“Oh.” My shoulders sag a little with relief.
Since my dad died, my mom carries all of our financial burdens along with everything else around the house. I do everything I can to step up, but I know there are some things that she won’t let me help her carry. It’s part of the reason I work so hard playing football. The only way I’m getting to college is on a scholarship, and this is my season to prove myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She comes closer and reaches up to pat my face. “It’s a big deal, and you should be proud.”
“I think having it taken from Jack and handed to me makes it feel like sloppy seconds.” I’m not usually one to say what I’m feeling out loud, but it’s the truth.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says, surprising me. “It should probably go to the person who works the hardest, right?”
“Well, I mean—”
“Who encourages all the players and is a leader on the field.”
“Mom—” I say, but she keeps going.
“To the player that puts in the hours both on and off the field and that holds themselves to a higher standard.” She shrugs as she gives me a smug look. “It’s too bad I don’t know a single person on that team who embodies all of those things and so much more.”
“Mom…” I try again, but she ignores me.
“If only I had given birth to such an incredible player. Oh well.” She sighs dramatically, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’m not sure Coach has guilt on the approved nutrition list.” I stare at her, and she shrugs.
“It builds muscle.” She grins as she touches the letter C patch on my jersey that marks me as captain. “Seriously, Tate, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“So do I get to meet your friend tonight?”
“What friend?” I ask because at first I don’t catch her meaning.
“The one you’ve been staying up all night talking to. I’m assuming it’s someone you like?” She phrases it like a question, but I don’t answer quickly enough for her. “I’ve never heard you so happy on the phone before, and when I catch you texting, you’re grinning like…” She stops abruptly before putting on the fake smile she uses for people in town. “I’m only saying it’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that.”
She means since Dad died.
“Yeah, I’ve met someone. I want you to meet her.” I realize as I say the words how true they are. “She’s important to me.”
“She is?” This time, her smile is genuine, and there’s a light in her eyes that’s been gone for a while now too. “And does she have a name?”
“Rosie.” Even saying her name out loud makes me blush. God, someone should just stamp virgin across my forehead.
“Will she be at the game tonight?”
“She’s wearing my number.”
Mom’s eyes widen in surprise, but she seems to be trying to contain her excitement. “Great. Then I’ll know exactly who to look for.”
“Maybe she can sit with you?”
My mom is practically bouncing in her seat when I say this. “Sure.” It comes out as a squeak, and I can’t help but be happy seeing her like this.
Since Rosie has come into my life, it feels like I’ve woken up after a long sleep. Maybe Mom is feeling the same way too. It didn’t feel possible until now, but maybe there are still good times ahead for us.
“All right, I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late.”
“See you tonight!” Mom calls after me on my way out the door.
The drive to school isn’t long, but the whole way, it feels like I’m floating. I’m looking forward to seeing Rosie and also the first game with me as captain. I’m so preoccupied by my thoughts that when I pull into the parking lot, I don’t realize Rosie is crying.
I hop out of the car, and the moment she turns to face me I know something is wrong. She tries to wipe away her tears, but her eyes are bloodshot, and there’s no hiding she’s upset.
“What’s happened? Are you hurt?” I ask as I gently pull her into my arms.
“It’s fine, just a shitty morning.” She sniffs, and I rest my cheek on the top of her head.
She’s so small compared to me that my body practically swallows hers. “Talk to me, Rosie. Tell me what’s going on.”
“My mom is an asshole.” She sniffs again, and then I can almost feel her trying to shake off the sadness. “Seriously, it's nothing new. Sorry, let’s forget about it.”