The soft glow of the kitchen lights washed over the marble countertops of Zane’s condo while he sat hunched at the island, his elbows resting near the edge of the cool granite. His fingertips tapped idly against the surface as he stared at the paused game film on the iPad in front of him. An unopened blue Gatorade sweated beside the tablet, condensation pooling underneath it in a faint ring.
The Louisville game kept replaying in his mind.
Zane scrubbed backward through the footage with a frustrated sigh, watching the same third-down snap for what felt like the tenth time. Louisville’s linebackers drifted perfectly into their zones, cutting off the slant before it even had a chance to develop. He leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening.
Their defense had not even been that overwhelming physically.
Not like USC. Not like Penn State.
Louisville had simply been disciplined. That was somehow worse.
They stayed where they were supposed to stay. Read Syracuse’s offense correctly. Forced Ajani into bad decisions and clogged every passing window just enough to make things uncomfortable. Zane still finished with decent numbers statistically, but numbers did not matter to him nearly as much as the feeling in his chest afterward.
Restricted. Restrained. Stopped.
He hated that feeling more than anything.
If the offensive line collapsed, there was only so much he could do. If Ajani got pressured into throwing suicide balls, Zane could not magically fix it. But he had proven something all season long already - he was the guy. The number one option. The engine of the offense.
And against Louisville? He had not looked like it.
That realization sat heavy in his stomach.
A knock sounded at the door. Zane barely looked up from the screen.
“It’s open,” he called out.
The door cracked inward a second later and Marie stepped inside, balancing a brown paper takeout bag in her hands. Her long braids were tied back neatly with a colorful red bow that sat against the dark strands perfectly. A sleek beige pea coat hugged her frame, making her look far too polished to be standing in the middle of his football-obsessed chaos.
Zane’s eyes widened slightly the moment he looked at her fully.
“Damn,” he said immediately. “You look good.”
Marie narrowed her eyes playfully while setting the takeout bag onto the counter.
“You only complimenting me because I brought food even though you’re rich now.”
A smirk pulled at Zane’s mouth.
“I am by no means rich.”
Marie slowly slipped off the pea coat, revealing a cream-colored blouse underneath that fit her perfectly. The soft fabric contrasted against her warm skin beautifully, and Zane found himself staring a moment too long before she motioned broadly around the condo.
“Oh really?” she asked. “This screaming broke to you?”
Zane laughed under his breath and finally locked the iPad screen.
“For the record,” he said, “the condo was given to me.”
Marie hummed skeptically.
“But yes,” he admitted, “the NIL deal might make me a smidge more affluent than the average student.”
Marie placed a hand dramatically over her chest before bowing her head.
“I rest my case.”
That finally pulled a genuine laugh from him.
She slid onto the stool beside him at the island and glanced toward the iPad still sitting nearby.
“Still working?” she asked while carefully opening the takeout containers.
The smell of Thai food immediately filled the condo.
Zane reached over and closed the tablet fully before pushing it aside. He stood up and crossed toward the kitchen drawers to grab utensils.
“I just wanted to iron out some mistakes,” he said with a shrug.
Marie accepted the fork from him with a soft “thank you” before opening one of the containers. Steam curled upward between them.
“You played a good game.”
Zane looked over at her while leaning against the counter.
“You sure you watched the right game?”
Marie smirked knowingly before taking a bite.
“I know the team hasn’t played their best game yet,” she said calmly. “But it’s coming.”
Zane stared at her for a second, something about the certainty in her voice cutting through the fog in his head better than any coach speech had lately.
“I appreciate you trying to cheer me up.”
Marie pointed her fork toward him immediately.
“Obviously,” she said. “Why else would I buy you food on a barista’s salary?”
That got another real laugh out of him - louder this time.
Marie smiled at the sound, reaching over to pat him gently on the back before digging into her own food again.
For the first time since the Louisville game ended, the pressure sitting on Zane’s shoulders eased just a little.
***
Bianca walked briskly down the dorm hallway in her Michigan tracksuit, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished floor. Her black hair was pulled tightly into a high ponytail that swayed behind her with every step. The team meeting was starting soon, and she was already earlier than she needed to be.
As usual.
Normally, she did not mind the extra time. Katie almost always needed to be dragged out of her room after losing track of time doing makeup, scrolling TikTok, or getting distracted halfway through getting dressed. Bianca usually stopped by, knocked on the door, listened to Katie scramble around in a panic, and then the two walked to meetings together while catching up.
It had become routine.
That was why the silence unnerved her almost immediately.
Bianca stopped outside Katie’s dorm room and knocked twice against the wood.
Nothing.
She waited, expecting to hear shuffling footsteps or Katie yelling “One second!” from somewhere inside the room.
Still nothing.
A small crease formed between Bianca’s brows.
That was unusual.
She had texted Katie ahead of time too, and the messages still sat unanswered. Bianca knocked again, louder this time, her stomach beginning to tighten unpleasantly.
Still no response.
The hallway door down the corridor opened and a girl with short brown hair stepped through, textbooks tucked against her chest. Bianca recognized her vaguely from nights out with Katie. Maddie? Addie? Something like that.
The girl noticed Bianca looking over and pulled one of her earbuds out.
“Hey,” she said sweetly.
“Hey,” Bianca answered quickly before gesturing toward Katie’s door. “Have you seen Katie today?”
The girl’s expression shifted immediately, her brows furrowing.
“Actually… no,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen her for almost a week.”
Bianca’s stomach dropped.
Almost a week? The uneasy feeling inside her sharpened instantly.
“Oh,” Bianca said quietly.
The girl gave her a concerned look before slowly continuing toward her own room. Bianca muttered goodbye distractedly before fishing her phone from the pocket of her tracksuit.
She immediately called Darius. The phone rang twice before he answered.
“Yo.”
“Are you already with the team?” Bianca asked quickly.
“Yeah,” Darius answered. “You on the way?”
Bianca glanced back toward Katie’s door.
“I was picking up Katie like I usually do, but she’s not answering the door. And apparently girls on her floor haven’t seen her all week.”
There was immediate silence on the other end. Darius finally spoke again, his voice more serious now.
“I haven’t heard from her recently either.”
Bianca crossed her arms tightly over herself.
“You think something’s wrong?” he asked.
Bianca stared at the door. “I’m starting to.”
Her pulse was beginning to pound now.
“I’m honestly thinking about asking her RA to open the door.”
The second the words left her mouth, the lock clicked.
Bianca spun around so fast her ponytail whipped behind her. The phone remained pressed against her ear while Katie’s door opened only a few inches.
Just enough for half of Katie’s face to appear. Bianca froze.
Something was wrong immediately. Katie did not look like herself. Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow. Her skin looked pale and dull beneath the hallway lighting. Even from several feet away, Bianca could see that she looked exhausted in a way sleep could not fix.
Katie stared directly into Bianca’s eyes.
Her voice came out rough and hoarse.
“Don’t call my RA,” she muttered. “I’m fine. I’m sick and not coming to the team meeting.”
Bianca blinked rapidly, her brain trying to catch up. Katie sounded awful.
For a split second, Bianca thought maybe she was just horribly hungover or dealing with some nasty flu, but before she could even respond-
The door slammed shut. The sound echoed harshly down the hallway. Bianca stood there motionless, staring at the closed door in disbelief.
“Bianca?” Darius’s voice crackled through the phone. She finally remembered he was still there.
“You heard that?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Darius answered immediately, worry clear in his tone now. Bianca rubbed at her forehead anxiously.
“What do we do?”
Darius paused for a moment before answering carefully. “Come to the meeting,” he said. “Then we’ll come back together after and check on her.”
Bianca hesitated, still staring at Katie’s door like she expected it to open again. The pit in her stomach only deepened.
But eventually, she swallowed hard and nodded to herself.
“Okay,” she said softly.
She hung up the phone and slowly walked down the hallway toward the stairwell, unable to shake the horrible feeling following closely behind her.
***
Cam had been spiraling ever since he came back to the Upper St. Clair area.
Nothing about returning home had felt comforting the way he thought it might. Moving back into his parents’ house had felt less like regrouping and more like retreating with his tail tucked between his legs. Every day blended into the next. He did the bare minimum in his online coursework just to keep himself technically eligible for when the transfer portal opened. Beyond that, he barely functioned.
He drank almost every day now.
Not enough to black out most nights. Just enough to dull the constant gnawing feeling in his chest.
He barely worked out anymore either. Most mornings he stared at the ceiling too long to even make it downstairs for breakfast. His room had become a cave of dirty laundry, empty bottles, and glowing television screens. He spent most of his time there alone.
That afternoon, though, his mother had finally managed to pry him out of the house.
Milk. Eggs. Bread. The standard grocery run.
Cam knew she did not actually need him to go. She just wanted him outside for a while. Wanted him moving around. Acting human again.
He had shrugged and agreed when she asked. Mostly because he needed something too.
Liquor.
The stash he brought back from Purdue had finally run dry, and his parents had gotten wise enough to start hiding their own alcohol from him.
Cam sat behind the wheel while the pale Pittsburgh afternoon sunlight spilled through the windshield. Before pulling into the grocery store parking lot, he glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.
He looked rough.
His blond hair had grown greasy enough that it slicked backward unnaturally. Patchy stubble darkened his jaw from not shaving for days. The bags under his eyes were heavy and bruised-looking from weeks of terrible sleep.
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth at the sight of himself.
“Jesus,” he muttered quietly.
He parked outside the mostly barren grocery store and climbed out slowly. The cold air hit his face sharply as he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the crumpled handwritten grocery list.
Milk.
Eggs.
Bread.
He stared at it another second before stalking inside.
The store was quiet enough that the wheels of shopping carts echoed against the tiled floor. Cam moved through the aisles slowly, almost aimlessly. Despite everything, it felt good to stretch his legs a bit.
Even if half his brain was already imagining himself back in his room.
Forza Motorsport on the television. A handle of vodka sitting beside him. A bowl of Cheetos balanced on his lap.
He grabbed the groceries one by one, tossing eggs, bread, and a carton of milk into his basket before adding a family-sized bag of Cheetos for himself.
Then he wandered toward the liquor section, mulling over what to buy.
Vodka? Whiskey? Rum?
His thoughts were interrupted when someone bumped into him. Cam instinctively looked up.
The man standing there looked like trouble in human form.
He wore camo pants tucked into Timberland boots. A dark jacket hung over a hoodie lined with black faux fur around the collar. His beard was uneven and unkempt, his face weathered by exhaustion. His eyes were especially striking though.
Dark. Far darker than Cam’s. The kind of eyes that looked like they had not slept peacefully in years.
One hand gripped a bottle of spiced rum tightly enough that the tendons in his hand flexed visibly.
Cam felt his heart skip. This guy looked like he genuinely meant business.
The man gave Cam a quick once-over before muttering a low, “Excuse me,” and moving past him.
But before he could walk away fully, Cam spoke.
“Rough night?” he asked casually.
The man stopped. He looked back over his shoulder and contemplated the question for a second.
Then he answered flatly.
“Rough life is more like it.”
Cam nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “I get it.”
The man turned more fully toward him now. Cam shrugged awkwardly.
“I just came back from college and I’m back living at my parents’ house again,” he explained. “That shit sucks.”
The man studied him carefully. “It’s a little early for winter break, ain’t it?” he asked.
Cam nodded once. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “It is.”
The man looked like he understood there was more to the story, but he did not press him about it.
Instead, he just gave a tired hum. “The trials and tribulations of man,” he muttered. “Am I right?”
Cam did not fully understand what the hell that meant, but he nodded anyway like he did.
“Yeah,” he replied. “For real.”
A strange silence settled between them. Cam adjusted the basket in his hand before speaking again.
“I’m Cam by the way, brother.”
The man’s jaw tightened subtly.
His eyes flicked briefly around the aisle like he was checking his surroundings before finally relaxing again.
@
(4-3, 2-2 ACC)
(5:13) Yasin Willis, 16-yard pass from Zane Jones (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 7 - 0 LOU]
(1:28) Terron Kellman, 1-yard run (Stanley DeMarco kick) [CUSE 7 - 7 LOU]
