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decides which play to pick ‘cause he wants to make another touchdown. He wants to put the points on the board for the fans to see.
    But when he makes that call to run the play he thinks is best, he will no longer have control over the outcome.
    Those decisions will be made for him.
    He will be part of something bigger than himself.
    He will be relying on ten other players who have eaten, slept and breathed these plays for weeks. The team knows the plays better than their own dicks. Cash is amazing with the way he sees the whole field and fits the ball into tight quarters. He’s got a strong accurate arm, can get himself out of trouble, and has mobility and rare poise for a kid who’s only seventeen. I’ve never seen him lose his head on the field. Ever. And I doubt I ever will.
    Then, the snap is called and everything is set in motion.
    I take off sprinting down the field, outrunning my defender.
    Everything is quiet. I hear nothing but my own breathing.
    In the end zone, I turn at just the right second, and the ball lands perfectly in my hands.
    I look down to my hands and smile. We did it again. We won another game making us state champions.
    Cash comes running toward me as I throw the ball to the ref knowing damn well I’m going home with the game winning ball tonight. He leaps and I catch him mid-air, “We fucking did it again. We fucking did it, Landon!”
     
    “Landon, man,” Colton kicks my hand that is hanging over the bed. “Your fucking alarm has been going off for twenty minutes.”
    I glance over to Colton pulling on a pair of sweatpants, “Let’s go, man. We’re going to be late to strength training and if you’re late again Coach...” He stops talking midsentence.
    Coach would bench my ass if I show up late again he doesn’t need to remind me of that.
    Jumping from the comfort of my bed and into reality I grab a pair of sweats off the floor and pull them on. Who knows if they are even clean? Colton Myers is one of our tackles for the Oregon Ducks. He’s a cocky asshole but we get along well enough. Not like we really have a choice since we live together. He thinks we share a mutual hate for Cash but he couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ll never tell him that though, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and I’m not about to spill my deep dark secrets to him anyway.
    “Let’s go,” I say pulling a t-shirt over my head. It smells like sweat and dirt but I don’t have time to find something clean. I really need to fucking do my laundry.
    Twenty minutes later we meet up with the rest of the team in the state-of-the-art gym thanks to our proud sponsors. This is not exactly what I feel like doing this morning with a hangover but whatever. I’ll just sweat the alcohol out of my system and be ready to do it all over again tonight. It’s what I do to get by these days.
    Colton spots me on the bench, he’s rambling on about meeting up with some girl tonight, I’m not really paying attention to him though. I rarely do. My attention is on the burn in my arms, it’s keeping the voices in my head quiet, at least for now. I hate those damn voices that never shut up.
    “Are you going out with that girl again from the other night? What the hell was her name again?” Declan Collins, another of our tackles, asks.
    Colton looks around before answering him, “Madison.”
    The mention of Madison’s name catches my interest. I don’t stop pumping the weights up and down but I do listen. What the hell is Madison doing with a guy like Colton?
    Declan nods, “That’s right but wait…isn’t that Cash’s girl?”
    Jet pipes up from the bench next to mine, “Who fucking cares, the girl fucks like an animal,” he throws his head back groaning, “and she sucks dick like you wouldn’t believe.”
    I squeeze the bar a little tighter my knuckles turning white. Colton and Jet bump fists laughing. I want to say something, I should say something but I don’t. Cash isn’t my concern anymore and