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“Jack and Ellie showed up on Tuesday. I was getting my arm iced.” Ace had taken a hard hit a week ago. “Ellie cheated for him. Using his access code to sign in and do some worksheets and midterm answers. The only good thing about it is that none of the work was graded.”

“For that goddamn poli sci class,” I curse. Ellie had always acted evasive about Jack’s progress, and I chalked it up to protectiveness. She didn’t want me to know he struggled. As if I cared about that. But why freeze me out? “Why did Coach question you? He saw me put Jack on my list.”

“Maybe he didn't see what name we'd traded. He only knew we had traded a name. Or, I think he wanted to see if I’d take responsibility for the team.”

Ace had stepped up big time.

“Holy shit.” I let loose a bitter laugh and squeeze my neck tight in one hand, hoping to relieve the tension that took root there. “Ellie and I talked last week about me declaring early. I fucking bragged to her that I didn't have anything to worry about because I didn't have any skeletons in my closet.”

He presses his lips together. “She broke up with you so your statement would stay accurate.”

“And I wouldn’t let it go. I hounded her, so she had to prove it to me. That’s what the business with Ty meant.” It’s a good thing the glass bottle is in Ace’s hand and not mine, because I would’ve have thrown it at the wall in frustration. Getting angry won’t solve anything. Information will. “What else did Coach say?” I demand. “I want to know everything.”

Ace outlines Coach’s ban, word for word.

“He said immediate family is outside the ban?”

“Yes.”

“In front of you and Brian Newsome?”

“What are you thinking?” he asks suspiciously.

I tell him exactly what I'm thinking.

His eyes go wide in shock. “That's crazy, man.”

I jut my chin out. "If someone said you could play ten years as an elite NFL quarterback if you would only jump across a cliff as wide as your wing span, would you take that chance even if you could fall and get broken from the attempt?"

"Of course.” He scowls.

"Then what I propose to do is the least crazy thing in the world."

He leaves, shaking his head in skepticism. He must not love Stella, because if he did, he’d get it. Completely.

••• Monday

My first target is Matty. If I get him on board, the rest of the defense will follow. Ace will work on the offense. He doesn’t understand, but he wants to win.

Matty shoves away from the brick wall of Carter Hall. We’ve watched Ellie walk to all her classes today in between practice and our own classes. She’s got a lighter load now that she’s not taking two extra courses for her brother. How’d I miss that before?

Matty digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his winter coat. I can tell by the tenseness of his shoulders he’s unhappy. “I don't like seeing you like this, man. You're like a fucking boomerang. She tosses you away, but you keep running back to her.”

A captain’s relationship with his teammates is an emotional bond. I'd sawed a notch in it by letting my emotions affect my mental sharpness. We'd repaired it, but I have to step lightly or run the risk of damaging it again. Like Ellie said the day we first met, winning is about the head and the heart. Not so much the body.

So I’m careful with my response. “When have I ever gotten discouraged by a setback? If you don’t sack the quarterback the first time, do you give up?” He shakes his head slowly. “Right, you keep going. It doesn’t matter if the guy on the line weighs a hundred pounds more than you and plays like the second coming of Gene Upshaw, that quarterback is yours. You dictate the play at the line of scrimmage even if it takes you the entire game. The whistle hasn’t blown for me. This thing between Ellie and me isn’t over.”

“When will it be over?”

“We will never be over.” I don’t raise my voice. I don’t say the words with any force, but there’s nothing I’ve ever said with more conviction. Matty recognizes that.

He blows out a stream of air that turns white in the November chill. “I don't want to fall for any chick then, if that’s what it’s like.”

It's my turn to look astonished. “You'll endure non-stop training and excruciating post game pain. You don’t mind cracked ribs, joint pain, or the bone deep bruises you have to treat with a motherfucking ice bath that’s so cold that your balls try to climb inside your asshole. You’re okay with all of that for one moment of triumph, but you won't suffer a few weeks of heartache to gain a lifetime of real happiness?”

He looks uncertain. “I don't feel that way about anything but football.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “That's because you haven't found the right one.” I shove his beanie over his eyes and walk toward my own class. Behind me I hear Matty’s footsteps.

“You think there is a right one? For me?” His voice sounds halfway between hope and fear.

I grin evilly. “Yeah, and I bet she wrings your balls, Iverson.”

He drops his hand to cover his groin, but his face still shows interest. He’s on board, which means the rest of the guys will fall in line…except for possibly Jack.

I nab him after film on Tuesday.

“Hey, Campbell. Got a minute?”

He pauses in the hallway outside the film room. The other offensive players brush by us. “Sure.” He doesn’t sound enthused.

I get straight to the point. “Your sister’s number is disconnected. I need her new one.”

“No, you don’t.” He turns to leave.

I grab his arm and lower my voice. “Ace told me about your meeting. I don’t want to jeopardize your playing time. I just want to talk to her.”

He jerks out of my grasp. “You think I fucking care about playing football more than I care about my sister’s wellbeing? Fuck you, Masters.”

As he stomps away, I rub a hand through my hair. That didn’t go as I had planned. Jack might be someone I need to address later, after all the pieces are in place.

I stake out the apartment and follow Riley to class on Wednesday morning instead of Ellie. “Riles, Ellie’s phone is disconnected.”

“Are you following me? Because stalking is deemed a violation of the honor code. An honor code violation would mean you can’t play on Saturday, and gosh, wouldn’t that be terrible?” The expression on her face says that me being suspended would make her day.

“I just want to talk to Ellie,” I coax.

“Has your number changed?” she asks.

Confused, I reply, “No.”

“Then if she wants to talk to you, she can call you, can’t she?”

Perhaps Riley doesn’t know about the ban, but before I can clarify things for her, she slips into her class.

What had I said to Matty about not getting down in the face of defeat? Once again my words come back to slap me in the face. On Thursday I go back to Jack who ignores me as much as possible. Given that we play on opposite sides of the ball, watch different film, have different specialty coaches, it’s actually pretty easy for him to pretend I don’t exist.

That is, it would be easy if I wasn’t constantly up in his business.

“What do you want Masters?” he finally relents on Friday when I sit on the porch of his house and refuse to leave. Ace probably made him come out.

“I want you to give me a chance to explain.”

“Fine,” he says curtly. He jerks his chin upright to indicate I should start talking.

“I screwed up, both on the field and off of it. I love her. I want to make this right with her.” Even after I confess this, he remains grim-faced and unforgiving. I don’t need his forgiveness, only his cooperation. I continue, “Ellie’s an adult. She needs to be given the chance to make her own decisions. You know she’d be pissed as hell if she thought you were making them for her.”