Chapter 38
Noah
Practice didn’t feel the same.
I’d half expected it to be different. Turns out, the machine doesn’t care about locker-room drama. Not because the world revolves around whatever storm has passed through the locker room, but because everything had felt so explosive a week ago. Like something somewhere had to break.
Only nothing did.
The machine kept moving.
Monday morning was film review.
Coach Sutherland stood at the front of the room like he always did, remote in hand, the laptop humming softly behind him. The lights were low, the screen bright with the frozen frame of our last game.
No mention of the posts.
No mention of the rumors.
No mention of anything except missed tackles.
“Pause it there,” he said, pointing at the screen.
The footage froze with our defensive line half a second late on the snap.
“That,” he said calmly, “is what happens when your head’s not in the game.”
Nobody spoke.
Sutherland let the silence stretch.
“The outside world?” he continued, almost lazily. “The trends, the noise, the little storms people think matter?” He clicked the remote again. The play rolled forward. “None of it wins football games.”
The room stayed quiet.
“Matthews,” he said suddenly.
“Yes, Coach?”
“You see it?”
I leaned forward slightly. “Yes, Coach.”
“Good. Fix it in training.”
The film session continued just like that.
Practice the next morning was looser than it had been in weeks.
Helmets weren’t needed. Pads were still in the locker room. Everyone was lighter in the warmups.
Sutherland’s little speech the other day had landed exactly the way he wanted it to. Football first. Everything else second.
As the machine turned, so did the end of the semester. Finals overshadowed everything.
The campus felt like it had changed overnight. Playbooks shared space with textbooks. Guys who could read a defense in three seconds suddenly stared blankly at economics notes.
I came back to the dorm late one night, after seeing Briar. I found Dante and Dustin sitting in the living room. Neither of them looked up when I walked in. That alone told me this conversation had been waiting.
I dropped my bag by the door. “What’s up?”
Dustin leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. He glanced at Dante. “You want to start, or should I?”
Dante rubbed a hand down his face before looking at me. “The Devils.”
Here it comes. “Yeah.”
Silence stretched as we stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
“Transfer,” Dustin said.
“I’m still considering it.” I didn’t look away from Dante.
Dante watched me carefully and then pushed himself to his feet. “You’re really just going to leave.”
“Maybe.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit, Noah.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Yes,” he said flatly. “You don’t do everything that you did, and then walk away.” He glared at the ground. “You don’t get to leave us and go to the fucking Santos.”
“Leave us.” I considered that for a second. “You stopped talking to me,” I reminded him.
“You made a deal with him.” He shook his head. “I needed time to process.”
“I was in his office, he had me cornered, I had no fucking choice but to think on my feet on how to protect you all.”
Dante’s gaze didn’t move. “You went to Cardinal before you were in that situation.”
That was fair. I’d have been pissed too; I knew he’d see it that way. “So this is what you’re angry about? That I went to them?”
“Yes! We are a team.”
“You mean the team that hasn’t spoken to me in a week? That team?”
The room went still.
Dustin shifted on the couch, looking between us. “Let’s not lose our tempers,” he reminded us both. “We’re talking this out. Not yelling it out.”
Dante leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So what you’re saying is that you didn’t trust us?”
That was bullshit, and he knew it. I looked at the floor for a second before answering. “No,” I said honestly. “But when I realized I’d made the wrong call going to Cardinal, I also knew for you, that realization would have come too late.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered what I’d said. “You could have told me before Briar did.”
“I could’ve. Would it have made a difference?”
He looked away, and then back at me. “Yes.”
I shrugged, saying nothing. That was probably true.
Dustin finally leaned forward. “Okay,” he said. “Time-out.”
Neither of us looked at him.
“We’re just going around in circles,” he said with a sigh.
Dante leaned back with a frustrated breath.
“Fine,” Dustin continued, taking Dante’s movement for agreement. “Let’s simplify this.” He pointed at me. “After telling us about the deal you made, you shut down.”
That might be fair.
Then he pointed at Dante. “And when you found about the Devils, you shouldn’t have iced him out for a week.”
Also fair.
Then he pointed between us. “And both of you are too damn stubborn to say that out loud.”
“Just us?” I asked Dustin.
Silence.
“Fine,” he conceded. “We all could have used our words more.”
I exhaled slowly. “You might be right.”
Dante looked at me.
I let out a loud exhale. “Fine, we’ve discussed it now.”
Dante snorted. “And if you were in the same situation again?”
I didn’t hold back. “If I had to make that call again . . . I would.”
He studied me for a moment. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “I figured.” He straightened up. “And the Devils?”
“I wouldn’t make the same call,” I answered honestly.
He nodded. “Good.”
My lips twitched. “You still mad?”
“A little.”
“Yeah, well, me too.”
Dustin clapped his hands once. “Excellent. Emotional growth. I’m proud of both of you.”
Neither of us reacted.
Dante rubbed his hands together and leaned back. “So,” he said. “Are you staying?”
I didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was I’d already made the decision, I just hadn’t said it out loud yet. The Santos wouldn’t hold me back. They saw beneath the surface, they saw the anger, and I knew how much work I’d done to keep my anger controlled.
Dustin and Dante? They didn’t hold me back, but they didn’t let me fall either.
Not when it counted. I knew it the day Spence walked out of that room the morning after the fight in the parking lot.
He’d looked at me and then turned around and walked right back in to fight for my place here.
We may have had our ups and downs but Dante .
. . he was a ride or die. And Dust? He would have given me his air miles to go protect my brother.
Gray Santo saw me, but he was the one who told me to keep them close. And I was going to.
“Yeah,” I said finally, my thoughts racing but the conviction clear in my voice.
Dante’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Good. That’s what we want.”
Dustin pointed at me. “You know if you left, we’d have to find another roommate.”
“Your loyalty to our friendship is inspiring.”
“I’m just pointing out the practicalities.”
Dante stood up, used to tuning out Dust, his focus still on me. “You also realize this means you have to see Sutherland every day.”
“I was already doing that.”
“Yeah,” Dustin said. “But now you know he’s a psycho.”
“Now?” I asked. “I knew that the first day I met him.”
That earned a laugh from both of them.
It was the first one in the room in over a week.
Dante clapped a hand against my shoulder. “It wasn’t your job to fix it all.” He looked between Dustin and me. “We came at this as a team, Sutherland tried to break us down by making one of us make the decision. My own stubbornness almost let him win.”
I hadn’t considered that. “I told him you wanted it over and done with, you were worried about your Draft value.” Dante’s look became assessing. I turned to Dust. “I may have implied you and Hadley wouldn’t last, what with you being a . . . guy who doesn’t stick around in the girl department.”
Dustin glared at me. “Why?”
“He’s worried about the influence they have over you. Both of you.” I shook my head slightly. “He thinks they’re with you as Dean Cole’s spies.” I smiled at the look on their faces. “I told him two lies, info that he didn’t know.”
“To build his trust,” Dante realized.
“I don’t expect all of his shit to stop. We don’t let down our guard, and we keep our wits about us. We know who to watch, thanks to Jason’s help. Most of them leave after finals. Next season, we go in eyes wide open. We give him nothing, we play ball.” I held Dante’s stare. “Yeah?”
“Better to be aware than blind,” he agreed. He punched me in the arm, hard enough to actually hurt. “That’s because you went to Gray Santo.”
“My options were limited.” I thought back on my actions as I rubbed my arm. “They have a spot that needs filling. I fit.”
He swore. “Fuck that, you fit in my team, not theirs.”
“You sound really possessive, you know that, right?” Dustin asked as he stretched.
“Don’t care,” Dante said grumpily. “I don’t need the fucking Devils to see weakness in my team.” He glared at me. “This, right here, is your ride or die. Got it?”
That was what I needed to hear and it was exactly why I knew I’d made the right choice. “Dust is right, you sound unhinged.”
“Yeah, well, remember that next time you get the bright idea that you don’t belong. Fucking stupid thinking, and I’d never say you were stupid.”
“It won’t happen again.” And I meant it.
“Fine.” Dante headed to his room. “I need to study. Finals don’t pass themselves.” He paused before leaving. “Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“I know why you did it all. You did well.” He didn’t look like he liked it still, but it was a move forward. “But you pull that lone-wolf crap again . . .”
I raised an eyebrow.
He pointed between himself and Dustin. “We won’t be so easy on you.”
Then he left.
Dustin watched the door close and shook his head. “You two can be exhausting.”
I dropped onto the couch beside him. “Tell me about it.”
He glanced at me sideways. “For the record?”
“Yeah?”
“I was never mad you made the deal.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Why’d I get the silent treatment?”
“I was mad you thought you had to do it alone.” He shook his head. “You walked in here and delivered it to us. You said we could discuss, and we knew you’d already practically agreed on our behalf. It took me three hours to calm Hadley down — three hours. You walked out and left me with that.”
I nodded again. That had been shitty; it was a fair point. “I needed to get to Briar and tell her. When I came back, the place was quiet. I figured no one wanted to talk to me.”
“Did you try knocking on any doors?”
Fair again. I tried to lighten the mood. “It was my first mafia negotiation.”
Dustin huffed out a laugh. “Dude, you’re from Vegas. Taking down an evil coaching syndicate should have been a breeze.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I genuinely think all of you need to come to Vegas, because you all have watched far too much TV. You have a really warped idea of what it’s like.”
“Wait until I’m twenty-one.” He nudged me. “Madden?”
“Or we could study?”
“This is studying. We’re preparing for our future,” he said, handing me a controller. “This is real-life research.”
I couldn’t even argue against his reasoning. “Fine. One game.”
“So . . . Is Briar keeping you?”
I didn’t hide my smile. “Yeah. We’re officially dating.”
“Nice. Congrats.” Dustin started grinning. “Dating. Sounds very mature.”
“Fuck off.”
“She’s a few years older than you.”
“I’m aware. It’s three years, not thirty.”
“I know, but you’re still in college and she’s like . . . an already functioning adult. She pays taxes.”
I put my controller down. “You’re an idiot.”
He grinned, leaned over, and put the controller back in my hand. “It’s nice. You guys are cute.”
I didn’t answer. Briar was cute. Him saying we were cute, that was just . . . fucked up.
I’d eat his snacks in revenge.
I beat his ass at Madden instead. That shut him up. Life was good again.
* * *
Practice got back to our normal routine.
We’d arrive together, come out onto the field together. The machine was the same. Coach Sutherland stood on the sideline, arms folded, as we ran drills.
He didn’t yell much these days. The semester was coming to an end. The team was moving the way he liked — sharp, disciplined, quiet.
Halfway through a defensive set, I looked up and caught his eye across the field.
He didn’t look away.
That same small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He already knew how this game had ended. He’d made his move, and I’d made mine.
And we were both still standing.
Watching each other. I held his gaze for a second longer than I probably should have. Then I turned back to the line.
Somewhere up in the bleachers, Briar was watching through the lens of her camera, exactly where she’d been since she decided to stay.
The whistle blew.
Dante barked the play.
Dustin laughed somewhere to the side of me.
And I dropped into position, exactly where I was meant to be.
This team wasn’t finished.
We had a championship to defend, and this time, no one on the field was playing blind.
After practice, I found her sitting on the bleachers.
The sun was still high, and the evening pleasant. Practice had ended an hour ago, but Briar hadn’t moved from her spot halfway up the stands.
I climbed the steps and sat beside her. For a minute, neither of us spoke. The quiet felt earned.
“You did well in practice,” she said finally.
“Yeah?”
Briar’s shoulder brushed lightly against mine.
“What are you thinking?” I asked her quietly, reaching over and taking her hand.
“You know we didn’t fix anything,” she said.
I glanced at her.
“Sutherland’s still here.”
“Yeah.”
“My brother’s life still went off the rails.”
“Yeah.”
“And you still made a deal with the devil.”
“The actual devil, not the ones that call themselves the Devils.” I huffed a quiet laugh. “That last one’s going to haunt me for a while yet.”
She leaned back against the metal bench, staring up at the sky for a moment. “Nobody’s perfect,” she said softly.
I looked down at our hands. “You sure? I think you are.”
Briar gave a small smile. “You still want this?”
I laced my fingers through hers. “Not even the smallest doubt.”
She squeezed once. “Good. I do too.” She squeezed my hand again. “For the record, I think you’re pretty damned perfect,” she murmured. Another quiet moment passed. Then Briar nudged my shoulder with hers. “Perfect but still a morally questionable pain in the ass.”
I grinned. “And you’re still trespassing on school property, so still a wannabe felon.”
She laughed lightly. “Guess we’re a good match.”
“The perfect match,” I corrected her, dropping a kiss on her lips.
We sat there a while longer, watching the empty field.
She was staying here for me, and I loved that. She’d already put out feelers for jobs in Halston. I didn’t know how it would go — I’d never done this before. But I was going to find out.
I was coming back to Wrighton next semester for my team. My friends, who had become as close as family, and like every family, we argued, but we stuck together because we wanted to.
The machine would start again tomorrow.
But for now, the stadium was quiet, and she was beside me.
And that was enough.