Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Luca Maguire,” Raul mutters, rubbing his forehead, and my stomach performs another, even bigger, somersault than it did earlier in relation to Calhoun. “Luca’s a tough call for me, honestly.”
What? I thought Raul loved Luca! Is he playing it cool to gain credibility for when he ultimately votes to keep Luca around, or is he sincerely unsure about his vote?
Before Raul can say another word, Bellamy’s phone on the table rings. It’s an odd thing to happen at an important meeting like this, since people always turn off their phones out of respect for the gravity of the proceedings.
“Oh, I need to take this,” Bellamy murmurs after glancing at his screen.
Everyone perks up. We all know Bellamy is this close to sealing a new deal with our star edge rusher. So, what else could this be about?
“Tell me,” Bellamy says into his phone. “Uh-huh.” He smiles broadly. “Fantastic. Tell him we’ll see him tomorrow morning. Seven thirty sharp, unless he wants to come earlier to have breakfast with his teammates.” Bellamy punches a button on his phone and fist-pumps the air. “The Moriarty deal is done!”
A cheer rises up around me. That’s a wonderful thing for the team. Not so much for Luca, though, since he plays the same position as Moriarty, and there’s only one opening for his backup.
Someone asks the terms of the Moriarty deal, and Bellamy enthusiastically responds while I pretend to listen and secretly spiral. I knew Jacob Moriarty would agree to new contract terms with the team one day, obviously. Statistically speaking, virtually all holdouts do. And I also knew the vast majority sign their new deals before preseason. But knowing all that in advance and witnessing it play out are two very different things. Now that the moment is here, I feel sweat forming on my palms and hairline, and bile rising in my throat.
“Has Moriarty been working out hard while he’s been away?” the offensive coordinator asks.
Bellamy frowns. “His agent was pretty vague about that, so I’m guessing we’re about to find out he’s woefully out of shape and rusty as fuck.”
Everyone groans at the same time.
“We’ll be okay,” Bellamy says. “We’ve still got the whole preseason before Moriarty needs to be in top form again. That should be enough time.”
Dad nods emphatically at that. And then, to my horror, he looks at me and says, “Chelsea, start working one-on-one with Moriarty, as of tomorrow.”
Is that a sign Dad is planning to cut Luca? Unfortunately, Raul expresses enthusiastic agreement with that idea and then, adding insult to injury, he nudges my arm and smiles at me, like he thinks we’re sharing a celebratory moment.
In a fit of panic, I catch Bellamy’s eye at the other end of the table and nonverbally plead with him to say something, anything, to get me out of this new assignment. He’s the only one at this table who knows my fate is now tied to Luca’s, thanks to the deal he offered me in the auditorium. But even more importantly, Bellamy recently praised Luca at an all-team scrimmage, so I know he feels like Luca’s come a long way, the same way I do.
When Bellamy receives my nonverbal message, he subtly shakes his head, letting me know he’s not going to intervene on my behalf. That, in fact, he’s perfectly happy with the new arrangement that’s just unfolded.
My cheeks flaming, I muster the courage to address the full table. “Moriarty won’t take direction from me, and we’ve only got a few weeks to whip him into shape. For that reason, I think you should assign him to someone else. Someone with more experience.”
Dad doesn’t hesitate. “No, I’ve got a gut feeling about this, and I’m sure this is the right call.”
Raul interjects, “Don’t worry, Chelsea. Jacob’s notorious for not being coachable for anyone, so if he doesn’t listen to you, that will be par for the course. Nothing personal.”
“Exactly.” Dad looks down at his iPad. “Now, back to Number Ninety-Five. Luca Maguire.” He looks at his linebacker coach. “You were saying you’re undecided about him, Raul?”
“Yeah, he’s a tough call for me,” Raul concedes as I sit next to him, feeling like I’m on the verge of losing my dinner. “There’s no question he’s fantastic for team morale. Everybody loves Luca.”
Uh-oh. If he’s starting with Luca’s personality rather than with his amazing progress over the past weeks of practices and scrimmages, Luca’s in deep trouble.
“Thanks to Chelsea working her magic with him,” Raul continues, “Luca’s significantly tamped down his loose-cannon/adrenaline-junkie tendencies and made remarkable progress on the field.” He shoots me a warm smile, but I can only press my lips together and breathe deeply through my nose.
“He’s still got some improvements to make in a few key areas,” Raul continues. “But on balance, my vote is to keep Luca for now and see how he fares in the game on Sunday.”