The voice within hadn’t had the strength to spoil it.

“It’s about f**kin’ time, by the way!” I suddenly heard and looked behind me, straight at Carillo.

“Are you talking to me?” I asked in confusion, checking around us to see if anyone else was here.

Austin smirked in a deliciously dark way and gestured to my hair and face. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. It’s about time a pompom chick ’round here broke the mold. It’s good to have another one of us freaks on this team.”

One of us freaks? I thought, but all I could do was watch him disappear into the locker rooms. My heart pounded in my chest, and lifting my hand, I ran my fingers over my black hair and lipstick, and I felt a flutter in my chest… one of us freaks…

Seeing the cleanup crew enter the stadium, I quickly bent down, plucked a piece of grass from the field, and held up the single blade. It was my tradition. A piece of memorabilia from every game I’d ever cheered… But this would be my first in four years.

The symbol of my new life.

Picking up my poms, I headed to the locker room. I couldn’t wait to get home and write, telling Daisy all about it.

Chapter Two

Austin

“Woo-ee, boy! Four point two on the forty-yard dash! Keep getting these times and you’ll be in the first or second-round draft, no doubt,” Coach Cline, my sprint coach, shouted as I crossed the forty-yard line.

It was a few days after the Mocs game, and football practice was kicking my ass.

I bent over, catching my breath, when I heard, “Carillo, Coach’s office, now!”

Straightening up, I looked over the field to see Defense Coach Moore waving me over to the office.

I looked over at Coach Cline. “What’ve I done?”

His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “Ain’t got a clue, son. Now get on over there and find out. We got more drills to run.”

In less than two minutes, I was at Coach’s office door, and I rapped twice on the polished wood.

“Come on in, Carillo,” Coach called from behind his desk. If he wasn’t on the field, you’d always find him behind his desk.

I entered the room and took a seat opposite him. Coach looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desktop, removed his glasses, and gently rubbed the area around his eyes.

This wasn’t looking good. He was anxious.

“What am I here for, Coach?” I asked in a wary voice.

Dropping his hands, he leaned forward, elbows on his desk, looking me right in the eyes. “Got a call from the dean today.”

“Okay. And why does that concern me?” I asked tightly. I hadn’t done anything wrong in over three years here at the Tide. I had nothing to hide. Especially from Coach.

“We got a problem on campus, and he asked me to talk to you, see what you know.”

“What kind of problem?” I asked, confused.

“A drug problem,” he answered straight and waited for me to say something in return.

A drug problem. Drugs turn up on campus and immediately they think of me.

“I’ve got nothing to do with it,” I said tightly.

Coach just nodded. “I don’t think that you do,” he emphasized.

My stomach flipped. “And why’d you say it like that? Who do y’all think is involved?”

I knew, of course, but I wanted to hear it from his mouth. Wanted to hear his accusation against my blood out loud.

“There’s been some talk that someone looking just like you has been seen on campus, dealing coke.” He sighed. “Just like you, Austin. You hearing me? I only know one person that could be.” He paused and I waited, just waited. I needed to hear it from his damn mouth.

“Fine, son. I’ll say it. Axel. I’m thinking it’s your brother.”

I laughed in disbelief and shook my head. “Not you, Coach. Not you too! Don’t you f**kin’ do this to me! Some f**ker turns up on campus, dealing, and you immediately think of the trailer trash scholarship kid with Heighter relations. That it?”

Coach motioned to speak. “Aust—”

“It’s not him. He wouldn’t have done it. Wouldn’t bring that shit my way. He’s family. Family doesn’t screw each other over.” My voice was cold and hard as I cut him off.

Hell, I was pissed.

Coach stood and lifted his hands, trying to calm me down. “Austin, I’m not saying it is him, just that some students were able to identify the gang involved. The dealer had a tattooed star on his left cheek, just like the one you have. We all know the stars are the mark of—”

“The Heighters. My gang.”

Coach shook his head in exasperation and moved around the desk to stand before me. “Now I’ll stop you right there. The gang ain’t yours no more. You got out—”

“You never get out. Only fools think that,” I said flatly.

Coach gripped my shoulder. “You got out. You came here. End of the year, you’ll get drafted to the NFL and leave. Leave it all behind.”

I dropped my head and Coach removed his hand. Pulling a long inhale, I met his eyes. “I know he spent time in juvie, and I know he has a bad rep, but family comes first with us. Always has. We’re Italian, Coach. It’s always family first. Axel may not make the best choices in life, but he couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this… to me.”

Coach stared at the floor for several seconds before nodding his head. “Then I believe you. I’ll let the dean know it ain’t him, you don’t know anything ’bout it, and he should look elsewhere.”