End Game

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Nate

The holidays were exactly what I needed. For a little while, life felt uncomplicated. Our house was full of laughter, the smell of Mom's cinnamon rolls, and the chaos of foster siblings running wild. We all pulled extra shifts at the food bank, and the looks on people's faces when they left with full bags of food—that kind of thing sticks with you. Makes all the noise in your head quiet down.

My moms went all out, like always. The tree was massive, decked in mismatched ornaments we'd made over the years, and the house smelled like pine and cookies twenty-four seven. Hannah and Kelly had us all in Santa hats on Christmas morning, and Lucas kept daring me to eat more of Momsie's eggnog pancakes than was humanly possible. Spoiler: I won.

But even in the middle of all that, I couldn't stop thinking about Aurora. I missed her more than I wanted to admit—more than I'd ever missed anyone.

Sometimes I'd catch myself staring at my phone, thumb hovering over her name. I wanted to ask if she was surviving the Connecticut snow, if her family was making the holidays unbearable, if she was missing me half as much as I missed her. But I held back. I didn't want to come on too strong. I figured once she got back, we'd have all the time in the world.

Back at the football house, it was the usual chaos—guys yelling at the TV, the crack of pool balls, a heated debate over ranch versus blue cheese for wings. It was loud, messy, but it was home. After practice, I sank into my bed, letting the noise fade while my mind drifted right back to her.

She'd be back tomorrow. I couldn't wait to see her. I had so much to tell her.

That's when my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. Coach Reynolds—Florida.

My stomach did a weird flip.

Why were they calling now? I'd agonized for months before finally submitting my acceptance to their summer program. Back and forth a million times, wrestling with the guilt of leaving my moms and foster siblings behind. What if something happened while I was gone? What if they needed me?

But deep down, I knew I couldn't keep letting fear run the show. After Aurora spent that day with my family—after she looked at me like she believed in my future more than I did—I knew I had to take the shot.

If I wanted to keep her in my life, if I wanted her parents to ever take me seriously, I had to prove myself. Football was the one place I knew I could. The one thing I could use to show the world I wasn't just some foster kid jock with no future.

So I'd said yes.

And now, hearing my coach's voice on the other end of the line, it felt real.

This was my chance. My shot to climb higher, to prove to Aurora—and maybe even to her family—that I was worth betting on.

I swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Nate Johnson?" a deep voice asked.

"Yeah, this is him."

"This is Coach Reynolds from the Florida summer program. Do you have a minute?"

I sat up straighter; a grin was already forming. "Of course. What's going on?"

There was a pause that turned my stomach into knots. "Nate, I'm calling because... I hate to do this, but we need to revoke your offer to attend."

For a beat I thought I'd misheard him. "Wait—revoke? Why?"

He sighed; I could hear him rub the back of his neck. "We received your commitment a few days ago, but our program evaluates every aspect of an athlete's life—on and off the field. Something's come to our attention that's... concerning."