Back in his dorm room at St. Ignatius Preparatory School, Paul Marley pressed his lips together, trying not to cry. He didn’t want the other guys to catch on that he was terrified. He wished desperately that he was back in the small, but elegant apartment he usually shared with his mother, a senator from Georgia. But she was back in Georgia for the August break and had arranged for Paul to stay at the school while she was gone so that he could work out with the football team. His dad was back in Georgia, too, busy coaching the local high school team he’d coached since before Paul was born. His parents had divorced, although they barely acknowledged that they were separated. Paul and his mother spent most of their time in Washington, DC.
Up until the previous January, Paul had never questioned playing football. It was just something he did because it was expected of him. His father was a coach. His older brothers had played. Now, it was his turn. Until that idiot Ralston had missed his block and Paul had almost suffocated under four 300-pound defensive linemen.
One expected to get hit. It was a rough game. And it was hardly the first time Paul had gotten a concussion while playing. But that sensation of not being able to breathe and then blacking out – that was terrifying. Paul was not a small person. Even with some growing still to do, he was already a very muscular six feet plus, with a round, mischievous face and short blond hair.
Paul’s mother had told him he didn’t have to play, and Paul had happily skipped spring training. Problem was, his father found out and when Paul went to visit earlier that summer, his father made it plain that he was expected to shake the injury off and play. Which Paul did, unhappily, but he did.
It looked like things were going to work out, what with Matt Jerguessen joining the team. Paul’s father could hardly complain when Paul got demoted to second string when someone as good as Matt was around. Then Matt got his ass kicked off because he wanted to go to Africa with his uncle.
Paul took a deep breath. It was all Matt’s fault. And it certainly felt better being angry at him than quaking with terror inside. Yep. It was definitely Matt’s fault and Paul was going to find a way to get him back.