The crowd is deafening as I take the field. I don’t need to look up at the scoreboard to know that there is under two minutes left and we’re down by seven. Of course, if our last touchdown hadn’t been called back for a bullshit call, we’d be tied, although, my mindset wouldn’t be much different. This is our hurry-up offense that we practice the most. Some teams are better at it then we are, but we’re young and still building the expansion team. Truth be told, no one expects us to win, and when we do, the sports analyst have a field day, jumping on the temporary bandwagon of the Portland Pioneers.

I’m used to the haters and have had to live with them badmouthing my dad for the past fifteen years. Being Liam Page’s son hasn’t been easy. Despite what critics say, everything that I have done, every achievement has been earned. My father was adamant that I make my own path, determine my own future. He didn’t want me doing something I didn’t want to do.

There was a time when I thought baseball was going to be my calling. My coach and somewhat step-dad, Nick, was convinced as well. After we won three consecutive state titles behind my pitching, the colleges were ready for me to commit to them and Major League teams were ready for me to sign my life away on the dotted line.

When I sat my parents down, which included Nick and Aubrey, I told them that I wanted to play football even though our high school team never made it past the first round of playoffs and the colleges weren’t scouting me. I had a few small offers, but nothing that stood out. My parents supported my decision and were the ones to drive me to Notre Dame weeks before school started so I could walk on. It was the best decision I had ever made because within six games I was the starting quarterback and once the season was over I was offered a full-ride in exchange for three years of playing football with them.

After my junior year, I was encouraged by money hungry agents to enter the draft. My coach knew this was happening but never said anything. He didn’t have to. I could see everything he was feeling in his expression. He was sad and worried that his star quarterback was ditching out a year early. It’s not unheard of for an athlete to leave school early, but that wasn’t for me. I made a commitment to the school that took a chance on me and really wanted to lead them to a bowl game. I did, but we didn’t win. Still, it was one of the best decisions of my life.

And now here I am in my fourth year in the National Football League and the starting quarterback of a team that just wants to win. We have the tools in the players that we have. Our coach, Bud Walter, is one of the best but isn’t here for the long haul. He’s had a storied career and will be retiring soon, but until then he demands one hundred percent from us each and every time, and we do everything that we can to give it to him.

I stand behind the center Alex Moore. He’s one of my best friends, not because he’s meant to try and protect my ass from getting tackled or sacked each play, but because he’s a stand-up guy who doesn’t give a shit that my father is famous. I yell out my cadence and tap Alex on his ass in the event that he can’t hear me. Once the pigskin touches my hands, I’m backpedaling with my arm cocked and ready to fire. My targets are the wide receiver, Julius Cunningham, who has been in the league for five years or Chase Montgomery the tight end. Chase is one of the best in the league and asked for a trade once the expansion team was announced. He’s from Portland and wanted to be at home so his ailing mother could come to his games.

A monster of a tackle comes rushing toward me as I release the ball. I’m hit and thrown to the ground before I can see if it lands in Chase’s hands. By the roar of the crowd, it does and I scramble to stand so I can get back to the line of scrimmage only to find Chase dancing in the end zone.

Coach yells that we go for two and I’m contemplating his thought process as I hurry toward my offensive line. Going for two means our opponent has to score. Tying the game means we can go a few more minutes. I have never second-guessed Bud, and I shouldn’t be trying to now. I call out the play and resume my spot behind Alex. Once again my cadence is repeated and the ball is put into play.

The field before me is clear and I fire a rocket of a pass to Julius who catches it flawlessly in the end zone. My arms go up as I run toward him to celebrate, which is cut short because now we have to go back on defense.

“Westbury,” Bud yells my name as I reach the sideline.

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Next time run more time off the clock.”

I nod and walk toward the bench and sit down. He’s right. I should’ve run some small routes instead of opening it up for the deep pass. Now we have to hold them on defense. I have faith in our cornerback, Cameron Simmons, but he can’t cover everyone.

Behind me, I can hear my grandmother Bianca yelling. Usually my it’s my dad and mom, along with my little sister, but my mom, along with her friends are in the Bahamas for the week, taking a much-needed vacation. It’s a toss-up between my grandma and my mom being the team’s biggest fans. Both of them insist that they sit behind the bench while my dad prefers to sit in the luxury suite. I get where he’s coming from. He gets tired of the security always around him. He wants to enjoy the game and not be hounded by fans all the time.

But my mom wants to be where the action is, and since they’re ridiculously in love, my father does whatever she wants. In turn, he tries to please my grandmother as well. They had a rocky relationship right up until my sister was born, but now they’re close and she’s making up for lost time.

My sister, Betty Paige, sits in between my dad and grandma with her nose tucked into a book. She has no desire to be a football fan, but my parents are adamant that she comes each weekend to support me.

Sometimes Nick and Aubrey, along with their two kids Mack and Amelie make the trip to Portland. It’s usually when the high school football team has a bye weekend. He’s still coaching and often asks my dad to help, especially with Mack playing now too. Nick and my dad are friendly, but will never be best friends. He saves that title for Harrison James and Jimmy Davis, his two band mates, both of whom are living in Los Angeles, far away from Beaumont.

Jimmy and Jenna, along with their daughter Eden chose to move to California after Harrison’s sister got married there one winter. Jenna fell in love with the beach and didn’t hesitate to pack up and move. Eden is some junior surfing champion or something like that and from what Quinn tells me, it drives Jimmy crazy.

With Quinn going to college in California and Elle following him, Katelyn wanted to be there even though Peyton decided that Northwestern in Chicago was more her speed. She’s making a name for herself while in school being a sports reporter and apparently has job offers pending from every sports channel out there.

Once I left for college, I came home as much as my schedule would allow. Most of the time my parents came to Indiana for the holidays and sometimes Peyton would come with them. I think, deep down, my parents knew that I needed to see Peyton more than Elle or Quinn. She’s my best friend, my confidant and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. When I was able to go home, it was rare that I would run into Quinn. After he graduated high school, he took off to Los Angeles and immersed himself in the music scene. I do, however, have every single song of his and am probably his biggest fan, minus the large contingent of women that he has following him around. It’s been a few years since we were all together and truthfully, I miss the group. I miss having everyone around. When we’re together, we’re inseparable, a tight-knit group and right now we’re spread all over the place.

I suppose the next big gatherings will be someone’s wedding and if my girlfriend, Dessie, has her way about it, it’ll be ours. I’m not there yet, but she is. She’s all about what everyone thinks and her fellow Victoria Secret models are telling her that she should have a ring already. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with waiting, with making sure that marriage is the right step.

I stand on the sideline with my hands gripping the neck of my jersey while I watch our defense give up yard after yard. The closer the opponent gets to the end zone the more my ass is puckering. If they score, the game is over. Their quarterback is seasoned and knows how to bleed the clock making sure that we’ll have no time left.

We hold them on the forty and I groan when they send their kicker out. He’s one of the best in the business and hasn’t missed this year. Still, I stand there next to Bud and watch as he lines up and prepares to kick.

The ball is hiked, he starts his motion and his foot connects with the ball. Sure enough, it flies through the uprights as the clock expires. I hang my head as people pat me on my shoulders and tell me good game.

Good isn’t enough. Not in my book. I want to win. I want the city to be proud of their football team. I want players to want to come here, to play here and make our team stronger and that isn’t going to happen if we don’t start winning.

After giving the other team congratulations, I head to the bleachers where my family is waiting.

“Good game,” Paige says, even though she doesn’t mean it.

“Did you watch, Little B?”

She shakes her head and shrugs sheepishly. At twelve she’d rather read, shop, and pretend that she isn’t crushing on Mack Ashford.

“Tough loss,” my dad says as he reaches out to shake my hand. “The clock--”

“Yeah, coach said the same thing. I’ll work on it.”

“Well, I thought you were great,” my grandmother says.

My dad and I look at her and shake our heads. “You’re supposed to say that because you’re my grandmother.”

She waves her hand dismissing both of us. That’s one thing Bianca Westbury doesn’t do, she doesn’t sugarcoat. I love her, but she has no filter. I think that is why she and my mom get along so well. My mom doesn’t hold back either.

We like to give my mom a hard time about how she reacts. During the game, she cusses like a sailor and threatens bodily harm if she feels like I’m not being protected. But when she’s talking to me, she’s sweet and syrupy, telling me that everything is okay. My dad calls her the Jekyll and Hyde of sports mothers. My grandmother is the same.

“I’ll meet you guys at the hotel. I need to shower and go pick up Dessie.”

After a quick team meeting and a shower, I’m home and walking into the arms of Dessie. She’s usually at my games unless she has to work. She spent the last week in Costa Rica shooting a spread for a swimsuit catalog that will be out this spring.

“Sorry about the loss,” she says into my shoulder. I breathe her in and am instantly relaxed. “Was it because I wasn’t there?”

Oh how easy that would be. I laugh and pull away from her. “No, just wasn’t our game to win,” I tell her. “Are you ready to go to dinner with my family?”

She nods, but her enthusiasm doesn’t exactly meet her eyes. Dessie is convinced that my mother doesn’t like her. I tell her that she’s just being silly and that my mom loves everyone. I have never asked my mom if she likes Dessie or not and figured that if she has a problem with her, she’d say something. I don’t bother telling her that my mom isn’t here today because that might give her a false sense of security. Bianca Westbury’s wrath is ten times worse than my mom’s.

The hotel that everyone is at is only two blocks away from my apartment, allowing us to walk over. If it isn’t my name being called by the people we pass, it’s Dessie’s. Rarely can we go out around town without someone noticing either of us. I guess it’s a good thing when you think about it, and honestly, it’s something I’ve been used to since I was about ten.

When we arrive, Paige opens the door. She’s crying and one look at my dad tells me something is really wrong.

“What’s going on?” I ask, causing my father to stop his frantic packing.

“It’s Peyton.”

“What about her?” I ask, reaching for my grandmother as she brushes past me with Betty Paige’s bag.

“She was in a car accident, Noah. Harrison says they don’t expect her to make it. We have to go to Chicago.”

“Wh-what?” I ask, swallowing hard. My tongue feels thick and foreign in my mouth, while my stomach rumbles.

My dad shakes his head. “I’ve called for a chartered flight. Your mom… they’re on their way from the Bahamas now on the band’s plane.”

“Harrison?”

“Chartered a flight with Elle, Quinn, JD and Eden. They’re all coming.”

“I’m coming with you,” I say. My dad doesn’t say anything because he already knows that is where I need to be.

“Noah?” Dessie says my name quietly. I look at her and she shakes her head. “We have plans.”

I close my eyes and process what she’s saying. “My best friend has been in an accident. I have to go to her.” I look deep into Dessie’s eyes, looking for any sign that she understands what I’m saying.

“…It’s always about Peyton.”

She’s right. It is. She’s all I’m going to think about because this can’t be happening to her. It’s all I can think about as I storm out of the suite when I was ten and my uncle Mason was killed. This can’t happen to Elle and Katelyn, not again.