Time Bomb(14)

Vince didn’t think he had to earn jack. He just wanted Frankie to get out of the way so he could have his position.

Yeah—not if Frankie had anything to say about it.

Frankie stepped away from the building and waved at Ian Morgan, then slipped back into the shadows as Ian grabbed a ball and trotted over to one of the receivers watching the first-string squad run plays. The second-string receiver ran down the sidelines as Ian cocked his arm back and let the football fly.

The spiral was tight. Just the way the two of them had practiced this summer. Frankie had been surprised the day the sophomore rang Frankie’s doorbell to ask for help with his form. But Frankie had been impressed on that first practice session. Ian never once said the words “I can’t,” no matter how hard the challenge Frankie gave him.

That’s what Frankie’s father always told him that winners did. They kept their eye on the prize and did whatever it took to reach it.

Ian’s throw was a perfect bull’s-eye—hit the receiver chest-level.

And Coach Anderson noticed.

Frankie leaned back against the wall and watched as Coach blew his whistle and started screaming about teamwork and keeping focused on the drills. He shook his finger at Ian and stalked around in a way that was probably supposed to be menacing but, in Frankie’s opinion, made the coach look as if he needed to pee.

Finally, Ian jogged back to the sidelines, his eyes firmly on the ground in front of him. The kid must have really gotten his ass well and thoroughly chewed. He’d have to get used to it, because winners never just got patted on the back. Once they cleared the bar set for them, the bar was always raised and people screamed until you got over that one too. Once you were a winner, you had to stay the winner they expected you to be.

Frankie waited for Coach to blow the whistle. When it came, he wasn’t surprised to hear Coach yell for Vince to get some water and for Ian to run the next play.

Frankie watched Ian take the field. Ian struggled to get his helmet on. It wasn’t easy to act cool when you knew every eye was on you . . . counting on you . . . waiting for you alone to give them something to cheer about. Frankie had had to learn to be calm under pressure—even when he felt like he was about to blow.

Ian called for the snap. Despite how nervous he was, their hours of practice this summer paid off. Ian backpedaled and waited before launching the ball downfield.

Touchdown city, baby.

With a smile, Frankie got up and walked back toward the locker room.

“Frankie.”

Everything inside him tensed as he spotted Tad coming toward him. The eyes that Frankie had found mysterious and intriguing were narrowed as Tad zeroed in on him.

Frankie glanced behind him toward the JV practice. Coach was still barking out plays. Ian and the rest of the guys were sweating in the sun, but Vince seemed to be looking this way. Damn it.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Tad,” Frankie said. “Didn’t you get the text telling you not to come to school?”

Tad stopped walking. He folded his arms over his deep blue T-shirt and studied Frankie. “As captain, you get to tell the team what to do to get ready for the game and you can push us on the field. But if you want to tell me how you think I should live my life, you’ll have to do it yourself. Not through Jimmy.”

“It’s the same text everyone got,” Frankie said, taking another look over his shoulder. “We shouldn’t talk about this here.”

Frankie started to move toward the door, but Tad stepped into his path. There was a reason the guy was one of the best receivers around. He was fast and could usually shake the guy defending him. Great on the field. Not so great when Frankie was the one trying to do the shaking.

“Then where?” Tad asked. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy. And I’m sorry if you’re upset, but I don’t want to have this conversation here. If Coach sees—”

“I don’t care what Coach sees. I—”

“You should.” Frankie grabbed Tad’s arm. “If you don’t want Coach benching you, you should go to the lake with the others. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Because you’re here?” Tad yanked his arm out of Frankie’s grip. “And you don’t want people to see us together.”

“No.” Maybe. Hell. “This isn’t me talking as your friend. My dad says a good captain has to have his teammates’ back. Well, this is me, your captain, watching your back. I’m paying a visit to the JV’s locker room, and I don’t want you here, or people will think you’re involved.” When Tad cocked his head to the side, Frankie added, “Meet the team at Jimmy’s. Go to the lake and get the hell away from here before you ruin everything.”

“How do I know these top-secret plans aren’t just your way of getting rid of me?”

“You don’t.”

Tad smiled. “Fine. You want me to go hang out at the lake. Sure. I’ll do that.”

Frankie let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good. Jimmy will—”

“I’ll do it, but only if you meet me in Mr. Lott’s room in ten minutes.”

Tad wanted to meet him alone in a physics teacher’s classroom? The school was mostly empty and the second floor would be even emptier, but hell, no. “I get that you’re pissed at me, but you can’t stay here. Look, I’ll—”