“What’s your suggested topics?”

Hammer’s face lights up. “I’m thinking things like ‘Top ten reasons why swallowing is good for your health’ and ‘It’s okay to watch ESPN and have sex at the same time’ and ‘A threesome makes for better roommate relationships.’ Shit like that.”

Heads nod in agreement around the table. “You got scientific proof of that?” I ask with a full-fledged grin. We all know he doesn’t.

“Fuck, man, this site talks about using fruit and baked goods during oral. They don’t need scientific proof.”

I stifle a laugh.

“You’re not the hero we asked for, but the one we deserve,” Matty pronounces and the two exchange high fives.

The team will be all right. Now I have to fix Ellie and me.

•••

Ace comes up to the apartment after I take a short run to work off the carbs and fat from breakfast.

“Hey, man. I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to apologize for busting your chops earlier in the season. Obviously I have no place to talk.” I get him a beer which he takes gratefully. Matty’s watching television in the living room.

“It’s no big deal. I shouldn’t sleep with Stella anyway.” He takes a couple long gulps of the beer.

“Hey, if she’s the one for you, then I’ve got no quarrel.” If anyone told me that Ellie and I were a bad fit, I’d punch them in the mouth.

He tilts his head back and I wait for him to spill whatever he’s here to talk about. We don’t mingle a lot—Ace and I—but he’s a decent guy, and I think he’ll make a good locker room leader when I’m gone. Matty will helm the defense and Ace the offense.

“I’m here about Ellie.”

His bald statement catches me off guard. I pause in the middle of reaching for a bottle of Gatorade. “What about her?”

The door of the refrigerator swings shut. Ace rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not supposed to talk about this, but we both know I do a hell of a lot of shit I’m not supposed to do. Coach put a ban on her. Said if he saw her with any member of the Warriors team, her brother would get kicked off. He made some noise about kicking us off too, but I doubt he’s serious about that.”

We’re five games away from possibly getting to the playoffs. No, he’s not benching either Ace or me. I rub my chin. “This is about Jack, isn’t it?”

Jack didn’t play yesterday. Coach said he was inactive at the beginning of the game, and nothing more.

“You know?” Ace leans against the sink. The sounds of the game come from the living room, punctuated by cheers or groans from Matty.

“I suspected he had problems academically. I should've talked to him about it. I meant to, but Ellie asked me not to. So what happened, and how do you know about it, but I don’t?” I ask impatiently.

“Jack and Ellie showed up on Tuesday. I was getting my arm iced.” Ace had taken a hard hit a week ago. “Ellie cheated for him. Using his access code to sign in and do some worksheets and midterm answers. The only good thing about it is that none of the work was graded.”

“For that goddamn poli sci class,” I curse. Ellie had always acted evasive about Jack’s progress, and I chalked it up to protectiveness. She didn’t want me to know he struggled. As if I cared about that. But why freeze me out? “Why did Coach question you? He saw me put Jack on my list.”

“Maybe he didn't see what name we'd traded. He only knew we had traded a name. Or, I think he wanted to see if I’d take responsibility for the team.”

Ace had stepped up big time.

“Holy shit.” I let loose a bitter laugh and squeeze my neck tight in one hand, hoping to relieve the tension that took root there. “Ellie and I talked last week about me declaring early. I fucking bragged to her that I didn't have anything to worry about because I didn't have any skeletons in my closet.”

He presses his lips together. “She broke up with you so your statement would stay accurate.”

“And I wouldn’t let it go. I hounded her, so she had to prove it to me. That’s what the business with Ty meant.” It’s a good thing the glass bottle is in Ace’s hand and not mine, because I would’ve have thrown it at the wall in frustration. Getting angry won’t solve anything. Information will. “What else did Coach say?” I demand. “I want to know everything.”

Ace outlines Coach’s ban, word for word.

“He said immediate family is outside the ban?”

“Yes.”

“In front of you and Brian Newsome?”

“What are you thinking?” he asks suspiciously.

I tell him exactly what I'm thinking.

His eyes go wide in shock. “That's crazy, man.”

I jut my chin out. "If someone said you could play ten years as an elite NFL quarterback if you would only jump across a cliff as wide as your wing span, would you take that chance even if you could fall and get broken from the attempt?"

"Of course.” He scowls.

"Then what I propose to do is the least crazy thing in the world."

He leaves, shaking his head in skepticism. He must not love Stella, because if he did, he’d get it. Completely.

••• Monday

My first target is Matty. If I get him on board, the rest of the defense will follow. Ace will work on the offense. He doesn’t understand, but he wants to win.

Matty shoves away from the brick wall of Carter Hall. We’ve watched Ellie walk to all her classes today in between practice and our own classes. She’s got a lighter load now that she’s not taking two extra courses for her brother. How’d I miss that before?

Matty digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his winter coat. I can tell by the tenseness of his shoulders he’s unhappy. “I don't like seeing you like this, man. You're like a fucking boomerang. She tosses you away, but you keep running back to her.”

A captain’s relationship with his teammates is an emotional bond. I'd sawed a notch in it by letting my emotions affect my mental sharpness. We'd repaired it, but I have to step lightly or run the risk of damaging it again. Like Ellie said the day we first met, winning is about the head and the heart. Not so much the body.

So I’m careful with my response. “When have I ever gotten discouraged by a setback? If you don’t sack the quarterback the first time, do you give up?” He shakes his head slowly. “Right, you keep going. It doesn’t matter if the guy on the line weighs a hundred pounds more than you and plays like the second coming of Gene Upshaw, that quarterback is yours. You dictate the play at the line of scrimmage even if it takes you the entire game. The whistle hasn’t blown for me. This thing between Ellie and me isn’t over.”

“When will it be over?”

“We will never be over.” I don’t raise my voice. I don’t say the words with any force, but there’s nothing I’ve ever said with more conviction. Matty recognizes that.

He blows out a stream of air that turns white in the November chill. “I don't want to fall for any chick then, if that’s what it’s like.”

It's my turn to look astonished. “You'll endure non-stop training and excruciating post game pain. You don’t mind cracked ribs, joint pain, or the bone deep bruises you have to treat with a motherfucking ice bath that’s so cold that your balls try to climb inside your asshole. You’re okay with all of that for one moment of triumph, but you won't suffer a few weeks of heartache to gain a lifetime of real happiness?”

He looks uncertain. “I don't feel that way about anything but football.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “That's because you haven't found the right one.” I shove his beanie over his eyes and walk toward my own class. Behind me I hear Matty’s footsteps.

“You think there is a right one? For me?” His voice sounds halfway between hope and fear.

I grin evilly. “Yeah, and I bet she wrings your balls, Iverson.”

He drops his hand to cover his groin, but his face still shows interest. He’s on board, which means the rest of the guys will fall in line…except for possibly Jack.