Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I open my email for what must be the hundredth time in the last couple days, and I freeze when the response I’ve been waiting for is staring back at me.
I go to open it, but my thumb hovers over the sender’s name, a sudden wave of panic washing through me. Am I ready to find out the answer?
Delaying will get me nowhere. At least I’ll know.
My eyes skim over the formal response, pausing when I get to the line that matters:
We regret to inform you that we are unable to approve this request.
I close out and let my phone fall to my lap, dropping my face into my hands. The reason why doesn’t matter; I got the answer I was looking for.
Karma: three
Me: fucking zero.
But it’s okay. It’s fine.
If there’s one thing in my life I have control over, at least for the next four months, it’s my performance on the field.
And whether the newest addition to the AU coaching staff likes it or not, I’m going to fucking kill it.
It’s that lone thought that gets me through the rest of the day and allows me to keep my head held high as I walk into the locker room to get gear on for practice.
I will be the best goddamn receiver this school has ever seen.
I have to be.
“Damn, my boy!” Brady whoops, running up and bumping his shoulder pads into mine. “I ain’t never seen you so fucking fast.”
I grin, picking up a towel and swiping it across my head and neck. “It’s those running weights. I’ve been doing two miles in them every morning since we got here.”
“Well, keep that shit up.” Mason joins us, picking up a water bottle and squirting a mouthful, swishing and spitting it out a second later. “You shave any more time off that route, and it won’t matter who’s at safety. You’ll be there before they’ve even read the play.”
“That’s the plan.” I smirk, tugging my bags over my shoulders. “Hey, should we—”
“Harper!” Coach Rogan calls, and we all look his way. “Come see me after showers.”
I give a curt nod. “Yes, Coach.”
I can feel my cheeks turning red, but thankfully, the flush of a hard practice hides it.
“Coach been talking to you privately an awful lot,” Brady hedges. I swear, the guy’s got this knack for noticing things we all hope he wouldn’t.
Not wanting to lie to my friends any more than I have to, I go the silent route, shrugging a shoulder as I move ahead of them.
It’s purposeful, giving them a moment’s privacy to do that thing the three of us normally do, where we can look at each other and know what the other is thinking, only this time it’s about me. I don’t draw attention to it, just keep walking, going straight into the locker room.
Thankfully, some of the other guys start talking about a couple guys from the team we’re playing on Saturday, who have been calling us out on social media, so I’m able to strip down and hit the shower without the two trying to start a conversation I’m not ready to have.
It’s embarrassing enough that my coach is privy to all my dirty laundry. I don’t want to see pity in my boys’ eyes, too.
By the time the others are stepping into the showers, I’m stepping out. I make quick work of getting dressed, just throwing on some AU shorts and a T-shirt with my slides.
Coach’s door is open when I get there, but I make sure to close it behind me, sitting across from him when he motions a hand.
“Will do, thanks again,” he says to whoever he’s on the phone with, giving all of his attention to me with his next breath. “I saw the email you forwarded my way. How you feelin’?”
Shaking my head, I slump back in the chair. “Not sure, honestly. Disappointed, for sure.” But I deserve that. I deserve all of this. “But it’s not like I really thought it would work out. Applying was a stretch as it was, and I knew that before I even filled out the forms.”
He nods. “You’re in a tricky spot. Unfortunately, there isn’t much wiggle room for circumstance when it comes to financial aid. It’s sort of one of those you qualify or you don’t situations.”
“Yeah, the only part I’m annoyed about is not getting even a partial academic scholarship. I shouldn’t have even bothered. Saved the ten bucks it cost to get my transcripts rush printed.”
“Overall, you’ve kept good grades, son, so it was worth a shot. It’s just a competitive game out here when it comes to scholarships, so the slip you had at the end of last year puts those who didn’t ahead of you.”
“Yes, sir, understood, which is why I was expecting the rejection. The annoyance is coming from the fact that I let my personal mess get the best of me.”