Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Okay, I just need to—”
“No, now!” She shook her head. “It’ll only be ten minutes max. Please, Holden. Wrangling these reporters is like herding cats, but they’ll go where the quarterback goes.”
Begrudgingly, I let her drag me off the field, and sure as shit, reporters followed us, allowing the rest of the team a bit of reprieve.
As soon as she had me set up a mic at the podium, Giana left — no doubt to go get the next players lined up and ready to answer questions. Her boss, Charlotte, watched me from the side of the stage. She listened to whoever was in her earpiece and then gave me the thumbs up to start taking questions.
It was an out-of-body experience.
I’d see a hand shoot up, and I’d point at it, signaling for whoever the reporter was to fire off their question.
“How does it feel to win your first playoff bowl game?”
“It feels amazing, but I knew this win was ours. This team has been focused all season long. We’re ready to take the championship.”
“At the end of the half, you were down by two touchdowns. How did you manage to rally the team and get them back in the game?”
“We never left it. CLU is tough, they’re one of the best in the nation — we all know that. They gave us hell out of the gate, and we expected it. The key was just coming back in the second half and giving them hell right back. And that’s what we did.”
“You’ve been battling an injury all season. Did it flare up at all in today’s game?”
“I’m feeling one hundred and ten percent thanks to our training staff. My shoulder is better than it’s ever been.”
Question after question pelted me, and after fifteen minutes or so, I was exhausted. That amount of time doing anything else would be nothing, but in this situation, it felt like an eternity.
I called on the next reporter, anxious for Giana to relieve me and send in the next player.
A woman in a bright orange blazer stood, a legal pad and pen in one hand as she yelled, “You’ve said in past interviews that your biggest goal is to win the championship and then be drafted into the NFL — which, at this point, I think we’re all sure will happen. So, what happens next? If you win the big game and you get called up to play pro, what’s next for Holden Moore?”
I opened my mouth to shoot back some generic answer, but before I could, a lifetime of possibility flashed before my eyes.
It was like her question had shocked me out of the present and into a future where everything I wanted came true.
I saw our team holding up the trophy, saw my uncles smiling when my name was called in the draft. I pictured signing on the dotted line, imagined what hat I’d slip on — maybe the Colts, staying on the East Coast, or maybe I’d go west with the Seahawks.
And through every step of my vision, there was Julep.
She was in my arms after the final whistle at the championship game, her legs wrapped around me as I kissed her, and confetti covered us both. She was holding my hand as we waited for the phone to ring on draft day. She was lugging boxes with me into our new place, kissing my sweaty cheek before pointing to where she wanted me to set up her pole.
And I realized in that moment, more than ever, that none of this mattered without her.
“I’m so sorry, I… excuse me.”
I didn’t say anything more before I darted off the small stage, Charlotte calling my name as I whizzed by her. I knew Giana would be upset, but I’d make it up to her later.
Multiple people tried to stop me as I weaved through the hallway. Players wanted to celebrate, staff wanted to congratulate me, and I didn’t miss the disappointment on a scout’s face when he tried to stop me, and I apologized before running right past.
I aimed for the locker room, and when I made it, I stopped, trying to catch my breath as I looked for her.
“What’s up, Cap?” Zeke asked.
“Have you seen Julep?”
He smirked, nodding toward the back where our training staff had set up camp.
I sprinted toward it, sliding through the door as my cleats tried and failed to find traction on the tile floor.
I came to a stop right in front of Coach Lee.
He frowned, catching me before I crashed right into him, but then I looked behind him and found Julep.
I reached back long enough to shut the door behind me, to make sure no one else on the team would butt in and ruin the only opportunity I had. I didn’t know how this was going to go, but I knew I didn’t want them hearing either way.