Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Then what …” Brady’s entire face lights up. “You have feelings for him. Big, strong, scary feelings. This is the best early Christmas present ever.”
“This isn’t a good thing, Bray.” I only use that nickname when he’s in trouble.
“Yes, it is, Pey.”
“No, it’s not. Because it’s already affecting my game. Instead of focusing on this weekend, my physical fitness, all I can think about is Levi and how much I want to be with him. Everything I’ve worked for is on the line.”
“Ah. You always have been shitty at compartmentalizing.”
“How am I supposed to separate the two?”
“Easy. When you’re playing football, focus only on football. When you’re with Levi, focus on Levi. It’s not rocket science.”
“Okay, and then what about classes? The draft? What happens when Chicago picks me and I move back home?”
“First, Chicago isn’t going to choose you. You’ll be snapped up long before they get a chance for their number one pick. Two, if that did happen, at least you’d see Levi again. You know his dad is going to march his ass home when he finds out he’s not actually in law school out here. And three—”
“Levi told you that? Why?”
“Like I said, we’re friends now. And I’m Team Levi. Find a way to pull your head out of your ass and make it right.” Brady storms toward his bedroom.
He’s right. I know he is.
But I don’t know how to make it right.
Something has to give, and if it can’t be football or classes, that only leaves Levi.
I have no idea what to do.
I take out my phone and stare at Levi’s name and the messages we’ve sent back and forth since he first came back into my life. I’m not usually someone who texts a lot, and if I do, it’s always for a purpose.
When I want to find a hookup, I send a simple: WYD to whoever I’m seeing at the time.
They’re all one-word answers or acronyms. There’s no asking how they are or talking about life in general.
It’s been different with Levi from the start. He said he moved here for me, and I didn’t freak out. He said it would be hard not to fall for me, and I was flattered. These things would normally make me run the other way and cool things off, but they only made me want to spend more time with Levi. But when I think about why he’s different than past hookups I’ve had, I can’t find any logical reasoning other than he’s from my childhood, my old life, and he knows what it’s like to grow up surrounded by the pressures that come with all of that.
Some might argue that him being a guy and all my other exploits being women might have something to do with it too, but it’s not even a factor in my feelings toward him. If anything, his gender is more of a reason to back away because coming out this year only adds to the other bullshit the media will put me through leading up to the draft.
I need advice, and normally I’d turn to Brady, but seeing as he is firmly on Levi’s side on this—though I don’t know why; his future career is tied to mine, so he should be worried about me—there’s only one other option. And I really, really, really don’t want to go to them with this.
With a groan that starts at the back of my throat, I hit Call on Dad’s number.
He answers almost immediately. “Before you start, you can’t talk us out of coming to your game this weekend. We’re already packing for our flight tomorrow morning, and your coach has invited us to be down there on the field during the game to keep up your team’s morale.”
“Jesus Christ, that’s not embarrassing at all. But this isn’t about that. I need … advice.”
“What’s up? Is it your arm? Have you been pushing too hard? What’s going on with football?”
It figures he’d think it’s about that.
“It’s not about football. Well, not directly. It’s about … Levi.” I’m met with silence. “Dad?”
“Hang on, you need to be on speaker for this.”
I could do with Pop’s opinion on this too.
“Hey, Pey,” Pop says at the same time Dad asks, “What’s happened? When we were there, it seemed like you two would only be friends.”
“Nothing’s happened. Like, stuff has happened, but not, like advanced stuff or anything, and we’re not together. Or dating.”
“That has to be code for hand stuff,” Dad says to Pop.
“What we’ve done doesn’t matter. It’s all the stupid feelings that come with it.”
Dad sniffs. “Our little boy has his first feelings for another boy—”
“For once in your life, can you be serious? Please?”
“No,” Dad says but follows it up with, “Ouch. Why’d you hit me?”
Thank you, Pop.
“I’ve never been this way with any of the girls I’ve been with, and you know my priority has always been football, and if it were any year but this one—”