laughter, the two of us acting like we aren’t in a formal press setup. “Gotta hand it to my boy here.” I nudge Trav with my elbow. “There’s no tougher Monday morning quarterback than Kay.” I cup my hands around my mouth, angling toward the coaches’ podium. “Sorry, not sorry, Coach.” Coach Knight only touches the brim of his ball cap and tips his head at us.
“Hashtag fact.” Trav makes dual peace signs and double taps them together.
“Tell me you didn’t seriously hashtag in real life.” If ever there was a time to channel Kay and roll my eyes, now is it.
“What?” Trav lifts his hands in the air, shrugging as if to say What are you going to do? “Sometimes you gotta talk in hashtags to get your point across.”
“Why are we friends?”
“Like you could function without me,” Trav retorts as we continue to bicker like we’re not in front of over a dozen members of the press core.
I can’t wait to see what Kay is going to say to you when she sees this online later.
The comment from my inner coach has me sobering instantly, and I clear my throat before refocusing my attention where it belongs to wrap this up.
“Anyway…” I clap my hands together. “Our time is up, but we’ll see you all”—I snap and make finger guns at the reporters—“after the Hawks win tomorrow night.” I let out a hawk cry, and the rebel yell echoes throughout the arena as all my teammates and our supporters return it.
If things play out the way I expect they will, the football game won’t be the only thing they’re reporting on.
#Chapter44
The CFP National Championship.
The big show.
The Super Bowl of Division 1 college football.
The battle for a trophy.
Playing for a ring.
The pomp.
The circumstance.
Every college player dreams of making it here. For some, it’s the closest they’ll get to feeling like they’re playing in the NFL.
Then there’s me.
I’m grumpier than a T-Rex with a back itch. Those short-armed motherfuckers never had a chance.
Why am I what Kay would call a grumpus right now? Well let me tell you. It’s because I couldn’t see her for my pregame kiss.
I need my pregame kiss. It’s sacred.
Now I know you’re saying to yourself, “Why wouldn’t you get your pregame kiss, Mason? You were able to get it before the Cotton Bowl—wouldn’t today be the same thing?”
And me, I would say to you, “Why yes, you would think so.”
But no.
Nothing went like I planned this morning.
I blame the damn time difference. The game might be an eight o’clock start for those watching at home, but that means kickoff is at five here on the west coast.
First, Kay wasn’t answering any of my texts.
So I went up to the suite she is sharing with her family, only to find out she wasn’t there. The only thing to come out of that small field trip was solving the mystery of the unanswered texts—Kay accidentally left her phone behind.
I was already on the team bus heading to Levi’s Stadium when I finally heard back from her. Outside of telling me she was out with Tessa, she wouldn’t give me any other details, and my mood only darkened from there.
SKITTLES: Will you relax?
ME: Fat chance.
SKITTLES: *rolling my eyes* I promise it will be okay.
ME: Not likely.
SKITTLES: Wow. *wide-eyed emoji* You MUST be upset if you aren’t going to make an innuendo out of my eye rolling.
She’s got that right. When she still can’t get the reaction or response out of me that she wants, she starts bombarding the guys’ phones instead. I’ve lost count of the number of times Trav nudged me with his elbow to show me his phone or Noah draped over the back of the seat to do the same. Luckily Alex and Kev took a calmer approach and only turned around so I could see theirs.
Not even a barrage of funny texts, pictures, and GIFs can make me okay with missing my pregame kiss.
I position my headphones over my ears, “Amen” by Halestorm blaring through them in my attempt to get into the zone as we step off the bus and make the trek to the locker room.
I’ve pulled on my pants, leaving them and my cleats untied as I lean back against my locker, when my phone vibrates with another text.
SKITTLES: What about this? Do they cheer you up at all?
Dammit! She had to go and make me crack the barest of smiles. Winking at me from the screen of my phone is