Page 79 of The Backup Plan
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Cameron snapped. “He loved this job and loved this team too much to just hand it over and give up.”
“You’re wrong.”
“You didn’t know him at all if you think he wanted to quit.”
“I meant you’re wrong about how he left you his team.” Cory sighed. “Cam, there’s a lot you don’t know about how?—”
“Then tell me. Why didn’t he tell me? Why won’t you tell me what really happened here?”
“Trust me, or don’t. I believe in you. I always have. Jordan did, too.”
“Did, or does?” Cam held his breath. “Cory? The first game this year, you said it was okay to be nervous. I was never nervous. Y’all thought I was being cocky, but I was never nervous about playing this game with these guys. Every struggle I’ve had that actually relates to my on-field performance is something I can handle. The rest of it’s horseshit. I’ll get a seat halfway down the bench in Alabama and call it good.”
“If you and Avery got together tomorrow, you’d stay.”
“That’s not happening.”
“If it happened, would you stay?”
“It’s not about Avery.”
“I’m glad you realize that, because stay or go, she’s not the problem or the solution. Staying for her wouldn’t fix anything. If you left because you can’t have her and you don’t want to be QB1, you’d have a clean slate in Alabama or Georgia or someplace where they talk like you and no one cares how your pants fit, and you’ll probably never play another snap.”
Cory paused.
“Is that what you want? You could have it. You could walk away from what happened tonight and never throw to Will Bennett again, or beat tackles from Justin and Isaac in practice. You might never look at a scoreboard and see your points up there, ever again. Is that what you want?”
Cameron choked on a breath, and the tears that had been building since he met Pom Pom the bee finally spilled out the corners of his eyes as he glared at the ceiling. “It’s not a cafeteria,” he said. “I can’t just pick the girl and the practice field and say no thanks to being a starter and doing podcasts and photo shoots. It’s all or nothing.”
“Sleep on it. You’re still probably a little drunk, and exhausted. There’s no such thing as all or nothing.”
“There’s sudden death overtime,” Cam grumbled.
“You don’t end up in overtime if you get it right in regulation. We’ll talk in the morning.”
TWENTY-TWO
Hangover
AVERY
Avery woke curled on her side in a tight ball, nearly numb from the neck down. One of Justin’s sweatshirts was draped over her bare legs. As she forced some feeling into her limbs, she bumped something.
Isaac lay behind her, his body curved around hers, not touching—the barrier between Avery and her sick, snoring brother on his bed. His jacket was folded into a makeshift pillow under Avery’s stiff neck.
She moved gingerly, prying her right leg off the braided rug and grimacing at the deep cross-hatch it imprinted down her right thigh and calf. Her boots and purse were placed neatly under the desk where the trash can usually sat. It was next to Justin’s pillow.
Pursing her dry, cracked lips, she snuck out the door and down to the kitchen. “Benny,” she croaked when she saw her brother’s roommate rustling in the refrigerator. “Grab me a water.”
He eyed her with concern as he handed her the bottle. “I didn’t know you stayed.”
“I didn’t know I stayed either, until about three minutes ago.” She drank a third of the bottle before pausing for a breath. “Isaac’s up there. He and Justin are both asleep.”
Without a word, Benny pulled his hoodie off and handed it to her, clearing his throat as he nodded at the twisted neckline of her dress dipping dangerously low.
“Thanks,” she whispered. She pulled it over her head and snuggled into its warmth.