Draw Play: A Sports Romance Read Online Free PDF

things that sank in was the insistence that every one of our experiences represents a lesson we need to learn. If we don’t learn the lesson, we’re doomed to repeat it again and again until it becomes clear. Then we can move on.
    Why was I being forced to review my lesson again? I couldn’t stand it. It had nearly killed me before. I was a stronger person, years later, but when I thought back, the pain was still fresh. I didn’t want to go back to that deep, dark place.
    I let the class wash over me, paying attention to absolutely nothing out of the professor’s mouth. I was so out of it, I hardly noticed when everybody else stood up to leave.
    Football. Tutoring a football player. I disliked sports in general but hated football with a passion. One other person knew how much I did.
    “Wow! So, you’re going to tutor a football player?” Marcie asked as we picked out lunch at the student union.
    “I know, right?”
    “Wow,” she repeated.
    “I don’t even know why I took this turkey sandwich. I’m not even hungry.” I pushed it away as soon as we sat down.
    “Eat it. You’ll need the strength to deal with the jock and his coach. Prepare for drawn out conversations about their latest parties, the hot girls they’re banging and—”
    “Okay!” I interrupted, holding my head in my hands. “You make it sound like some sort of joke.”
    “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t joke. I know how much your past hurt you.”
    I pushed the food around on my tray. “I can’t go through it again.”
    “I know, Claire. But this is an entirely different person and situation. And you’re a different person now.”
    “Am I? Do any of us really change?”
    Marcie opened, and then closed her mouth. I nodded. My point, exactly.

5
    Jake
    I got a call from Coach a little after ten on Monday. I still felt the effects of Saturday night—my hangover hadn’t hit until sometime Sunday afternoon—and seeing his name on my caller ID brought out the worst in me.
    “What?” I asked when I picked up.
    “You’re not seriously taking that tone with me, Jennings. I must be hearing things. Right? Do I hear things?”
    I cursed myself for acting like a spoiled kid. “No, you do not hear things,” I sighed.
    “That’s what I thought. We found your tutor. Be in my office at two so I can introduce you.”
    “Sure thing, Coach,” I said, hanging up. I didn’t say goodbye, didn’t ask questions. I didn’t even care.
    I rolled over onto my back—I didn’t have class until eleven, so I took advantage and hung around all morning. I promised myself to never drink like that again. How many times had I made that promise?
    There was a knock on the door. “What!”
    “It’s me. You going to work out with us today?” We had scheduled a practice run on the field that afternoon, then a few plays on the field. Preston actually thought I wouldn’t go.
    I got up and went to the door. “Why wouldn’t I be there?”
    Preston shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t seem too down with football on Saturday.”
    “I’m already over it.”
    He smirked.
    “I am,” I said. “I’ll see you at practice.” I flopped back onto the bed after closing the door. I wasn’t over it. Not even close. He didn’t need to know that—he’d think I was some kind of punk.
    There was a part of me, a big part, that didn’t like being told what to do. And when Coach told me I’d have to report and made it sound like my tutor would be my babysitter, I had wanted to rebel. It was childish, but I couldn’t help it. Like I had to be a dick on principle, just so his life would be difficult, too.
    I looked at people like Zack, who were assholes but didn’t care that they were. I wasn’t that person. I usually felt horrible for being a dick. I thought it might be easier to not care. Zack walked around on top of the world most of the time. He didn’t spend days thinking about what a prick he was. If he did, he’d never have time for anything