Redemption

NUMBER ONE PICK IN THE NFL DRAFT

I begged time to slow. With my cheek pressed against the passenger seat, and my focus on the hazel-eyed boy beside me, I tried listening to everything he said and inspect every inch of his face as if I'd be blind tomorrow and I'm trying to memorize every part of him before I do.

Every time he stopped at a red light, he'd turn to look at me. If he ever got the chance while driving, he'd take it. It wasn't like he was searching for confirmation to make sure I'm looking at him, but a smile would spread across his lips every time he realized I was. Quite honestly, I couldn't help myself. I hadn't taken my eyes off him since we sat down at the diner, but now we're in his truck, and I find it hard to search for anything more interesting than him.

Carter didn't seem to care either. He talked about life and asked me why I wasn't attending college or if I ever planned on it. My answer's undecided. After my conversation with Joey, I haven't put much thought into it. Not until I went to the football game, and I started asking myself how I make it onto the sidelines. Not as a coach or a trainer. Maybe a photographer or reporter.

Still, I wondered if I'd been worthy of attending. Not to mention, a guidance counselor pulled me into her office so many times during my senior year to remind me I didn't have a future that I started to believe it. She said no one wanted a girl who cried wolf. She saw the bruises and said sometimes kids need to be punished for their actions.

I don't know how I made it past freshman year. Either I'd die at the hands of my fathers or myself, but I never thought I'd be here. I used to tally marks on my skin for every sixty seconds I lived. It was a small enough accomplishment for me to think if I can make it sixty seconds than I've lived a minute longer than I thought I expected to, and to me, that'd been a miracle in itself.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said after I didn't answer his question. "College isn't for everyone."

"It's not that. I just don't know what I'd do."

"I received a full ride through basketball, and within three months, I dropped it for football. I lost everything, but quickly made a name for myself when everyone realized I was better at catching a ball than I was at shooting one."

"Why'd you quit?"

"It was fun in high school," he shrugged, flipping on his blinker. "I liked to jack around a lot. I averaged thirty points a game, and for some reason, people thought I wanted to make it to the NBA or something, but I just needed it to get out of my head. Then a scholarship got involved, and it felt more like a job than something I loved doing for fun."

"Why'd you take it then?"

"I thought it'd make my mom come back."

My lips parted at his answer, but I couldn't say anything, I only listened to him talk.

"She left when I was ten. Every year on my birthday, I'd get a letter from her. Up until I was nineteen, and I found out my dad was the one writing them. So, I grew up thinking she actually wanted to be a part of my life or at least that she loved me, but it turns out my dad's just an asshole."

"What happened to her?"

"She met a wealthier men with two sons," his fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel. "You should see how much she brags about them on social media, Sawyer. Every post is a picture with the same ole, 'I'm so proud of my kids,' caption. They're law students, and I play football. No wonder she doesn't fucking claim me. I mean, fuck, who am I compared to them?"

"Carter, I'm – "

"Don't. Don't pity me," he pleaded. "I don't need to hear that. It's not your fault to apologize for."

"I'm proud of you."

His head snapped to look in my direction. "What?"

"You know, your mom might not write posts about you, but Joey says ESPN has a thing for filling their website with articles about your talent," I focused on the man too afraid to look at me. "They're law students, but you're the best tight end in the country, and people are projecting you to be the number one pick in the NFL draft, so I wouldn't compare yourself to people who can't compete on your level."

"So, you read about me?"

"That's all you got from that?"

"Honestly, I was more shocked at hearing your voice than I was about you reading my stats, but I love that too. My wise grasshopper always giving me advice."

"What can I say? I'm pretty cool."

"A wise grasshopper and her sidekick Carter-Pillar."

"We're a pretty kickass duo."

"Please, apply for college," he blurted. "Really."

"Why?"

"Why not? Try something new. You didn't come this far to come this far and life's too short not to try everything."

"What if I fail?"

"It's up to you if you fail or not," he turned to me. "Plus, you have an extremely smart friend who'd be willing to help you through everything."

"Who?"

"Me of course."

My nose scrunched up. "You think we're friends?"

"Ouch," he slapped a hand over his heart as he pulled his truck into the driveway. "What did you think we were?"

"Just neighbors."

"You're breaking my heart."

My toes curled. "Do you really want to be my friend?"

"I want to be anything you want me to be to you, Sawyer. Doesn't matter what it is. As long as I'm somebody in your life."

I bit my bottom lip, trying to conceal my smile as I nodded.

"Then I guess we're friends."

He grinned. "Cool."

I tensed with the inability to contain my happiness. "Cool."