QB is here for you,” he says then turns around and walks out the way he walked in.
My brother’s here? How the heck did he know? Officer Smith opens the cell door and escorts me out.
When we reach the lobby, I find that the quarterback waiting for me isn’t Colton, it’s Lincoln. That shouldn’t be shocking, but I was really hoping it was my brother—however ludicrous that thought was. I guess this one isn’t so bad.
“You came to get me out?” I say, a little bit shocked.
He nods. “We’re teammates,” he says. “I couldn’t leave you here forever, now could I?”
“Not if you want to win,” I say, giving him the douchey-est of smiles.
He shakes his head but I can tell he was about to crack a smile. “Let’s go,” he says, turning around and walking toward the exit. I follow behind him.
Aron Lincoln may not be Colton but right now he definitely reminds me of him. Who thought the walk-on freshman I hated at the beginning would be the one bailing me out tonight? Certainly not me. But I guess today is just full of surprises.
19
NICK
I find myself sitting in my living room next to my sister a week later. “I knew it! I knew it would be you. It had to be. I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner,” she exclaims. It’s family Sunday, and despite the raging hangover from yet another victory party, I still had to be here. I skipped last week because of the bruises on my face. I told Dad I had gotten a beating the night before in the game and was going to take Sunday to rest instead. I wasn’t about to explain waking up in jail and with a black eye.
“Keep it down, will you? Dad’s going to hear,” I tell her. We’re at home getting ready to make our usual family dinner a family lunch instead. Colton’s playing in New England tonight and we’re watching the game live. So, instead of canceling, family day gets made longer, which sucks because I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Amelia is pregnant. It’s been a week since she told me. A week since I’ve heard from her.
Kaitlyn looks toward the dining room where Dad is setting up the table. Then she turns to me and whispers. “So, which jersey chaser is it?” she asks, and I can tell she’s enjoying herself a little too much, while I’m getting ready to pass out.
“She’s not a jersey chaser,” I correct. “Don’t call her that.” I instantly realize how much of a hypocrite I am. A week ago, I called Amelia that myself. In my defense, I was shocked, surprised, stunned even. Still, that’s no excuse for basically telling her I thought she did it intentionally. That’s not at all what should’ve come out of my mouth. Shouldn’t have been in my head. But my mouth spoke before I could process. I don’t even know how to talk to her again.
I’ve picked up my phone a million times since last week and have set it back down each time. She’s going through the hardest time in her life and I made it worse. I don’t think they make cards for that. It’d be a lot easier to give her a Sorry I’m an asshole card instead of apologizing personally. I’m sure Amelia would set it on fire before she read it.
“Hello, are you there?!” Kaitlyn says, annoyingly snapping her fingers in front of my face.
I push her hands away. “What?” I ask, knowing I missed whatever million things she just said.
“What are you going to do now?” she asks.
“The hell if I know!” I say louder than I should.
Kaitlyn’s expression becomes serious. “You should tell Dad.”
“Tell Dad what?” the person who shouldn’t be hearing this conversation asks as he comes into the living room. “Lunch is ready. Thanks for helping me set the table, by the way,” he says sarcastically.
“We know how much you love to do it,” Kaitlyn says, jokingly.
We get up from the couch and follow my father’s lead. The moment we take our seats, Dad starts to speak. “So, what do you have to tell me?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, Nick. What do you have to tell Dad?” Kaitlyn echoes. I have no clue why I told her in the first place. I guess I needed someone to talk to, someone other than a random cop. Still, next time something blows up my life, my sister will be the last