“Yeah, the guy owed him money or something and wouldn’t pay up.” She closed her locker.

“What an asshole.”

I laughed at her incredulous look as she zipped her bag.

“Right? Who doesn’t pay someone money they owed?”

“I was talking about Dare.”

“I can’t say he doesn’t give people a heads-up about his terms.”

“Terms for what?”

“I think he fixes cars sometimes.”

All his time in his garage made more sense. “The guy didn’t pay, so Dare wrecked his car.” She shrugged like it made all the sense in the world to destroy someone’s stuff because they couldn’t pay. Talking and working out a deal seemed like a better plan.

“Removed the rearview mirrors, added a few more dents and maybe flattened a tire. I didn’t get the full details.”

“That was the Cliffs Notes version?”

“I only gathered bits and pieces of the info. I’m sure we’ll hear more by lunch.”

My stomach began the telltale destructo war path, but I had my supplies locked and loaded to keep me from an emergency wardrobe change.

The rest of the day went by like every other day. Classes. Class bells. Lunch. PE conveniently right after the twenty minutes when we all shoved food into our faces before we were booted out of the cafeteria. And more classes.

I shared three of those classes with Dare, including P.E. I’d never been someone who swooned over the hot guys. Generally, they were all Grade-A assholes and I didn’t think he’d be any different. But this time I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him. He was the only person who’d ever heard me sing other than my parents and Freddy. What did he think? Did he hate it? Run screaming into his house because his ears bled from the sound of my voice?

Did I even want to know what he thought? Why did it matter to me at all?

5

Dare

“Travis Maze 81!” Bennet shouted over the rumble of the band and muted clack of shoulder pads hitting each other. We were packed in at the line of scrimmage. Thirty-seven seconds left in the final half and down by one. The rising seniors and juniors and I were the only ones playing for glory, rather than just playing to keep from getting hurt and maintaining reflexes.

It was a post-season game. An exhibition match of sorts, but I wasn’t going to stop and let up. Most of these guys already had their ticket written, but mine was still flapping in the wind.

My fingertips dug into the wet and freezing grass. Clouds from the inky black horizon blew against my face. I ducked my head, preparing for the collision.

Funneling my rage and fury, I had one objective. Lay out every person in my path who wasn’t wearing a red jersey. I inched my cleats deeper into the ground, preparing to leverage my weight and protect my asshole QB from decimation.

We put our bodies on the line for the small-town glory and college dreams. Some did it for money and fame. I mean, I wouldn’t turn them down, especially not the money, but I’d sure as hell like to know everything in my life wasn’t a mistake. That I had one thing I could do well enough to make it big.