Read Sacked (Gridiron #1) for Free Online Page A

pocket.
    That’s when I know Ace is going to be all right during the season, because he doesn’t even flinch. If he can stay stone-faced and in control in front of Coach while secretly nailing the most off-limits girl on a campus of twenty-five thousand, then he’ll do fine as a starter.
    I don’t really care who Ace is fucking. There are only a few important things in my life right now, and they start and end with winning the national championship. Ace could fuck a goat if he was into that, so long as he took care of the ball and showed some leadership on the offense.
    “What do you think about Campbell?” Ace asks me as we walk toward the Playground, where Ace and I live with the other starters. As one of the team captains, I have a third floor apartment all to myself. Granted, the place is noisy as shit because eight other guys live in the two floors below me, but for the most part, it’s decent. When I need to get away, I put on my headphones and zone out. If I need company, I go downstairs and play a couple rounds of Madden or Call of Duty . It could be worse.
    “Good guy. Hard worker. Has good hands. His routes could be shaper. Timing isn’t great with you, but it’s early. All you got to do is score three times.” I slap Ace on the back.
    “That’s my objective? Three touchdowns?” he asks in disbelief.
    “If we can’t hold every team to a couple of touchdowns this year, we don’t deserve to be in the playoffs, let alone hoist the trophy.” Last year we got lit up by a West Coast team. They scored on us at will and it felt fucking humiliating. I can still feel the sting of that loss today. At the end of that game, I vowed we’d never be caught with our pants down like that again.
    “Noted. So what’s your interest in Campbell?”
    I shrug. “Figured you had your hands full.”
    He raises his chin slightly in disbelief, but doesn’t challenge me. We part ways at the Playground—him to his house and me to mine.
    I’m not ready to show my cards yet. The team has a general rule: no sisters because it makes for a messy locker room. Ace screwing Coach’s daughter already meant bad news. But if push comes to shove, I’d lay my claim. There are some things you are born knowing: Treat your mother with respect. Family comes first. Bringing down a quarterback is as close to a religious experience as a boy can get. When you meet the girl who’ll be sitting on the front porch holding your hand when you’re eighty, you don’t let a thing like cool dismissive looks, big brothers, or fucking rules stand in your way.

4
Ellie
    T he Agrippa Learning Center is painted this awful yellow color. Maybe it looked bright when first applied in the prehistoric era, but right now, it’s faded, ugly yellow.
    The director, Susan Shearer, reminds me of Riley. She’s small but full of energy. Her dark hair is cut close to her scalp and patches of it stick straight up as if she’s suffered one too many harrowing events.
    “Thank you so much for coming back tonight. I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday when you came. Things are always chaotic here, but the school calendar moved up a week this year, and even though we knew about it we weren’t quite prepared.”
    She motions me to follow her into an office that looks like a paper mill explode in it. There are reports, drawings, catalogs, and brochures on every surface. “As you can see, we seriously need help, but donors don’t like paying salaries. They’ll buy supplies or donate equipment, but not for admin staff. So we need a grant.”
    “I’m just a junior, ma’am. I’ve never written a grant before.” I feel like it’s necessary to point this out so she doesn’t get her hopes up. I wanted to get experience writing a grant and get an A. “I’m here to write a draft for you as part of my grant writing class at Western.”
    “I know. Isn’t it great?” She points to a stack of papers about five inches thick. “I had Christie, that’s our receptionist