Breaking The Rules: Book 2

Chapter 16: Familiar Territory

𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟷𝚝𝚑
Parker POV

A few short months ago, there was no amount of money in the world that could've been used to bribe me back on the football field. It would've taken an army of people, begging on their hands and knees, to make me consider it.

It's funny that, in the end, all it took was Miles to gently ask me if I'd play for one more season. Just for me, he had said.

He is what motivated me to go back to the gym and join Greyson for weekly trainings. I wouldn't exactly admit that I missed the rigid schedule and daily workout plan, however it does feel good to look in the mirror and see more meat on my bones. Light restored in my eyes.

If it weren't for Miles, I would have never agreed to this camp. I would have never stepped foot on a plane to fly four hours to this football camp down in San Diego. Hell, I'd probably still be rotting away in my king sized bed.

Instead, I'm currently in Southern California. Greyson drives us boys through the gates at San Diego State and follows the road towards Snapdragon Stadium, home of the Aztecs. At the airport he managed to snag a sweet rental, a brand new Mercedes S63 AMG... or at least, that's what Miles said it was as we packed our bags in the trunk. It would've been an investment to rent, but thank goodness the conference is paying for the majority of this trip.

Griffin didn't even bat an eyelash at the luxurious interior when he hopped in the passenger seat, and he still doesn't seem to care as we approach the stadium.

Miles reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh, giving it an appreciative squeeze.

The gesture knocks me loose from my thoughts and I turn my head to meet his eyes, giving him a smile. Truthfully, I'm really excited to be here, especially with him, thus my lips curve upwards naturally.

He returns the favor and strokes his thumb over my leg. The way he looks at me can only be described as genuine love. He didn't look at the Mercedes with nearly the same emotion that he uses when he looks at me. I don't think he's aware that he's even doing it.

"I hope that you're excited, Park. You earned this shit. It's crazy that we're here," Miles says and looks away to crane his neck between the two front seats in an effort to see the campus better.

"I second that," Greyson adds and gently steps on the brakes as the cars in front of us slow down. Unfortunately the invitation stated that the stadium wouldn't open until two in the afternoon, so we're waiting in line with the rest of the country's best highschool football players.

"California has seen a lot of talented high schoolers in this sport, but no one can hold a candle to you two. No matter how this week goes, keep telling yourselves that you deserve to be here. You boys got invited for a reason," he says and glances up in the rear view mirror to meet my eyes.

"How about you tell yourself that when Parker misses a throw, or I get tackled before the fourth down? I have a feeling that you'll forget then," Griffin replies and adjusts the sunglasses on his face as we come around a corner. Him and Miles finally lost the colorful tinge of their bruises the other day, so he's only using the sunglasses to hide his face.

A van sits on the side of the road up ahead, with what looks like folks from the NFHS Network broadcasting. It's an educated guess, considering there's two men in suits standing in the grass and motioning at the line of cars with microphones held to their mouths, jabbering inaudibly to three different cameras.