The Beautiful Truth

// 127

The next day, Talyn made me proud all over again, playing as well as I'd ever seen him. Sadly, the same couldn't be said for the Trojan defense. Chase couldn't miss, and as a result, Travis had the game of his career. I expected that he would go early in the draft, but this game seemed to cement his status as a first-round pick.

Despite the loss, Talyn took me and Micki to some house party late after the game. It was funny, I noticed a little later on, how much things had changed, but also how they stayed the same. Talyn and I were a long way from home, on the edge of the rest of our lives, and yet here we were, drinking beer at some football player's house after a game.

It was of the bittersweet variety, but I left Los Angeles happy on Sunday morning.

Monday night, Micki was cheering at Bay City, and Travis was out with his new girlfriend, so Chase and I went to the gym and hung out on the back porch. We lit a fire, and enjoyed the night breeze.

"Hey, how come you didn't roll him like you could have?" I asked, lazily drinking my beer and swinging in the hammock on the far end of the deck.

He knew what I meant. I didn't need to elaborate. Chase smirked. "What makes you think I figured him out?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because I'd like to think I know you by now. You probably sat there watching that clip for three hours after I left, trying to catch it. You're relentless."

Chase laughed. "Thanks, but I didn't have to do all that. You tipped me off. You hoped I didn't notice, but I did."

Again, no need to elaborate. He was right.

"How long did it take Travis?"

"Oh, no, see, if he had figured it out, they'd have lit up his blind side all day," he explained nonchalantly before taking another sip of whatever concrete-substrate smoothie he'd made for himself when I opened my beer.

"You didn't tell him?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"As much as I like to hate on the guy, I have to admit, he's...phenomenal—"

"Oh my God, can I quote you on that?" I laughed, teasing him.

Chase rolled his eyes at me. "Hell no. Anyway, I wanted to beat him because we were better than them, not because I was told that he bites his lip—"

"Ah!" I cautioned him sharply before he could get it all out. You never know who might be listening.

Chase laughed. "All right, all right. Besides, if I had told the team, and we'd killed them, I'd have been afraid that Parrish would have somehow blamed you for it," he explained, looking over at me. "And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

I frowned.

"Oh come on, Sawyer. You're like my kid sister these days. Why would I want your best friend to hate you...when he can hate me, instead?" he winked.

I laughed. "Fair enough."

"Besides, now that I beat the Pac-10 Golden Boy, I can retire at peace," he announced, leaning his chair back on two legs and sticking his chest out proudly.

"Retire?" I scoffed.

"Eh, maybe not completely retire," he shrugged. "But I don't think the NFL's for me."

"What?! Why?" This was news to me. I'd started the hammock rocking again with my violent reaction.

Chase laughed softly. "Truth be told, I'm surprised my knees have lasted this long. But I'm more cut out to coach. I always have been."

Come to think of it, I'd seen him limp on occasion, but I'd never heard him complain.

"Does this have anything to do with learning the AR this summer?" I asked skeptically.

Chase looked at me sheepishly.

"They're gonna have you coach Matt Wallace, aren't they," I accused him. "And all that show about 'this-is-bullshit-I-don't-wanna-learn—"

"That was the deal," Chase laughed. "I get to be the Cal QB coach if I learn Wallace's offense."

"You agreed to it from day one."

"Well, actually, it was kind of my idea," he shrugged. "But since you did talk your best friend into staying at USC this year, I'm sure you can guess why I haven't told any of them yet."

I nodded to the side in understanding. He'd have lost them—they all came to this Power Five conference thinking they had a shot at the League, and for their leader to have a very legitimate shot and say 'no thanks'? No way.

"Huh," I said simply. "You're gonna coach."

Chase smiled. "Well, you know, I've had a pretty good tutor recently. I think I have her number if I get stuck."

I laughed lightly. "If Matt Wallace has been running the Air Raid through high school, I'm pretty sure my level of knowledge has been eclipsed. Besides, you've been runnin' it as well as anybody I've ever seen for the last six weeks."

Chase smiled to himself and raised his glass to me. "Thanks, SF. Who knew even six months ago that your opinion of my football skills would come to mean so much?"

I laughed again. "Well, I did kind of start off with a low blow."

"I swear I don't remember that!"

"That's not surprising."

"Yeah, yeah," he played along. "Enough about my next move. What about you?"

"What do you mean?" I hedged. "All that happened was the transfer of ownership of my screenplay."

"Look at you, sounding all Hollywood, calling it a screenplay."

I sighed. "I'll explain this once," I told him, despite learning the next bit of information only a few days ago. "A script is the dialog and stage directions. A screenplay is a script, plus character breakdowns and set descriptions."

"Oh."

"Right."

There was a lull in the conversation while Chase, currently defeated, struggled for a witty comeback.

"Let's try this again from a different angle. What are you gonna do with that wad of cash you just picked up?"

I grinned. "I don't know yet. I mean, I told you my dad said the car and my tuition were paid off, so there goes that idea. Maybe something nice for Micki?"

"Take her on a trip," he suggested.

"Oh, I think we're going to, um, Cabo, after exams at some point," I smiled. "But I mean, something else."

"Like what?"

I shrugged. "I haven't really decided yet. I know she misses Alex a lot, even though she's being a whole lot healthier about it this time." I paused for a drink. "Maybe I'll send her on tour with him."

Chase chuckled. "Those guys'd be OK with that?"

I scoffed. "From what I understand, Michael's Mistress may be drawing the big crowd right now, but Alex wants to punch his miserable lead singer on an hourly basis. The other guy?" I paused, considering Seth...and actually feeling a soft spot in my heart for him. "He operates in his own world. I'm pretty sure it might take a week before he even noticed she was there."

Chase laughed. "You miss him, don't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered anyway.

"Every day of my life."