Blurred Lines: A Rixon High Prequel, L Cotton [read an ebook week TXT] 📗

So to give that up… I couldn’t even imagine.

I wanted it more than I wanted anything else in the world. Football was a part of me, the way oxygen was a part of my blood. When I held a football, cradled the pigskin in my fingers, I felt at peace. It wasn’t something you could put into words: the thrill of the game, the all-consuming high that came with running play after play. I’d lived and breathed football ever since I was just a toddler running around the yard being chased by Uncle Xander. My old man hoped I’d be a wide receiver like he was, but it quickly became apparent that throwing was my superpower. It became a standing joke between my dad and Coach Ford, that I should have been his son. It didn’t matter though because as soon as I started Rixon High, I became his protégé. He took me under his wing and nurtured me into the player I was today.

A player with his eye on the prize. That prize being a full ride to one of the best programs in the country, Notre Dame.

“Chase, son, let’s go.” Coach Ford yelled as I pulled on my jersey. We’d been conditioning for the last hour and I was in desperate need of a shower, but after Miley Fuller’s article last year, Coach had informed us he expected us to pull our weight in class as much as on the field. We all knew he was probably taking heat from Principal Kiln, but he didn’t say it.

Coach Ford was a man of few words. Unless he was pissed, and then you felt the full wrath of his vocabulary.

“What’s up, Coach?” I slipped into his office and closed the door.

“Take a seat, Avery.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Before I lay this out for you, I want you to know it was my idea. Mine, okay?”

“Okay.” My brows pinched.

He sat back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh. “After the shitshow that was Miss Fuller’s exposé, it brought heat onto the team that quite frankly we could do without this season. It’s a big year for you. I don’t want you distracted or having to jump through hoops…”

“Why don’t I like the sound of this?” I shifted uncomfortably on the chair.

“I spoke to Mr. Jones—”

“The Rixon Riot teacher?”

Coach nodded. “And he agreed that we should get a fair and equal shot at telling our side of the story. It’s no secret that athletes get preferential treatment. Especially in a town like Rixon, and most of the parents are on our side, you know that. But I can’t ignore the fact that it didn’t paint us—me—in the best light.”

“Mrs. Bennet breathing down your neck still?” Sofia and Aaron’s mom was the guidance counselor at school and a firm believer in academics first and sports second. She and Coach often butted heads over players schedules and grades. The exposé was only more ammunition.

“Mya knows the deal. I’m here to mold you into college players. I’m here to play football.”

“Me too, Coach.” I smirked.

“Yeah, well. You need to graduate high school too, son.”

“My GPA is decent.”

“So let’s keep it that way. Anyway, back to my original reason for dragging you in here. I’ve agreed with Mr. Jones that Miss Fuller can come back and write another story.”

“What the fuck?”

Coach’s brow shot up and I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sorry.”

“I know you’ve got better things to be doing than babysitting the wannabe reporter.”

“Whoa, you didn’t say anything about babysitting her.”

“Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind.” He grinned. Coach actually grinned. “She’s going to shadow you and you’re going to show her the real truth behind the team.”

“I am?” Like hell I was. She was a snake who couldn’t be trusted. “How do we know she won’t spin the story again?”

“Mr. Jones assures me Miss Fuller will be more than amiable.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“This is a good thing, Avery. Shining the light on you this season is exactly the kind of attention we need if we want Notre Dame to come knocking.”

Fuck. He had to go and throw in that curveball.

“You really think we can trust her?”

“I’m sure you’ll win her over. We’re football players, not monsters.”

“I don’t know, Micah is pretty scary on the field.” He was our defensive tackle, and the guy was built like a brick house.

“Come on, Ave. Where’s that fighting spirit?”

That was the thing though, it was senior year and I felt… off-kilter. I couldn’t explain it. I’d had a fucking epic summer hanging with friends, attending football camp, and goofing around down at the lake. But as the days ran out and senior year crept closer, I began to feel restless. Maybe it was the pressure. Or maybe it was the fact my dad still thought I was planning to apply to Michigan and attend his alma mater.

“You still haven’t told him?” Coach Ford pinned me with a knowing look.

“It didn’t come up.”

“Shit, Avery, you had the entire summer.”

“I know but he’s just so damn excited about Michigan. I don’t know how to take that away from him.” He’d sacrificed his dream for his family, but now he had the chance to live it vicariously through me.

“You’re lucky I’ve been preoccupied, or there’s a good chance I would have slipped it out by now.”

“How is she?” I asked.

Coach let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his jaw. “Lily is strong. Stronger than she gives herself credit for. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t worry about high school. I thought middle schoolers were something else, but these high school girls… they can be brutal.”

He wasn’t wrong there.

“I’ll keep an eye out. And she has Poppy and Ashleigh.”

Poppy was still in junior high, but she was fiercely protective of her big sister. Coach had his hands full of females. Sometimes I wondered how he did it. But Jason Ford was one of the strongest guys I knew, and he loved his family something fierce.

“I’d really appreciate