A Better Man: Book Three

A Better Man Story

First Edition: October 21, 2023

Copyright ©2022, 2023 G. Younger

ISBN-13: 978-1-955699-07-5

Author: Greg Younger

Editing Staff: Bud Ugly, Old Rotorhead, Rusty, TheMikeBomb, XofDallas, and Zom

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 

Bookapy User License

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Bookapy.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Prologue

Cassidy knocked at David’s dorm suite door. Alex answered.

“He’s in his room, taking a shower.”

Cassidy went into David’s room and sat down in his ‘reading’ chair by the window. His ex-PA, Lexi, had decorated his room and spared no expense. What college student had a sixty-inch TV as their PC monitor? The reading chair was an oversized leather high back that might be the most comfortable thing she’d ever sat in. She planned to have him leave it to her in his will.

She heard the water turn off, and a few minutes later, David walked out naked. He almost jumped out of his skin when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“What the fuck, Cassidy?”

“Alex said you wouldn’t mind.”

“I did not,” Alex called from the other room.

Cassidy ignored Alex. David didn’t bother to cover up while he tracked down his boxers. It gave Cassidy a chance to remember why he was in such demand as a model and movie star. David had put on twenty pounds when he thought he’d play defense for the football team, and it had all gone to his legs, chest, shoulders, and arms. She was looking forward to seeing him play quarterback this year. He was going to be a beast.

“What do you want?” David asked as he pulled on his boxers, ending the floor show.

“I want your car keys.”

“Nope,” he responded without even thinking about it.

“Not the Demon, the Porsche. I’m the designated driver tonight.”

“Where are you going?” David asked, like he was her dad.

“The football party, and before you ask, I’m meeting Oliver there.”

David chuckled.

“Knackers finally wore you down, did he?”

‘Knackers’ was USC’s Australian punter. He’d earned his nickname when she kicked him in the nuts—knackers to an Aussie—for being fresh. He was old for a freshman at 25 and could be annoying as hell. Somehow, though, he grew on you—like a fungus—and once you got to know him better, you stopped thinking of his face as punchable.

For some reason, Oliver had made it his mission to get Cassidy to go out with him. It wasn’t like he didn’t use his Aussie charm to seduce anything with a skirt; he did. It was done in such a way that when women shot him down, they did it with a smile. But more than a few fell for his game. So, he never looked back if he was rejected. That was true for everyone but Cassidy.

Over the summer, she’d hooked up with Tank Bryce, USC football’s strength and conditioning coach. But they’d agreed it was just a summer fling after Cassidy found out that Tank had a long-term girlfriend who was moving in with him.

David told her that once you got used to having sex, it was hard to go without. It had been almost a month, and Oliver had begun to look better, even though she knew she’d never be serious about him.

Of course, her roommates constantly teased her that she should just grow her lady balls and tell David how she really felt. If Cassidy thought he was anywhere near ready to settle down, she would’ve made her move. But at the moment, he was kidding himself, saying that he and Crystal were faux dating. They’d told themselves they’d be each other’s plus-one and hook up to ease their sexual needs after their breakups.

Crystal had dumped Matt Long, David’s main competition at quarterback, before she and David connected. She wasn’t ready to date yet.

David’s ex was Lexi, his former PA. For some reason, those two could never be totally honest about what they meant to each other, which led to Lexi sleeping with one of David’s acting friends. In football, they have a term for how something like David’s summer had gone: unsportsmanlike conduct. Lexi’s infidelity had led to all kinds of regrettable situations in his love life.

Part of his coming out of his funk was Crystal. Cassidy hated to admit it, but David and Crystal were a good match, at least on paper. They were both leaders with ambition, and they honestly looked damned good together.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” Cassidy threatened.

David just stepped over to his dresser, grabbed the car keys, and tossed them to her.

“What are Pam and Tracy doing tonight?” David asked.

“They’re going to a party at Loyola Marymount,” Cassidy said, then asked, “What are you doing?”

“Crystal has to take her sorority to a frat party, and I’m not really up for that, so I figured I’d watch some UNLV game film.”

USC’s first game was the following Saturday against UNLV. It was being nationally televised because David A. Dawson was starting his first college game. The storyline of the number one recruit and movie star was the perfect draw for the first week of college football, where the games were mostly meaningless.

Had he been anyone else, Cassidy would have been worried about the kind of pressure that would put on David. But she knew from experience that he thrived when thrust into the spotlight. And it wasn’t just because he was an amazing athlete, though he was. David simply worked harder than anyone she knew. This was an example. While everyone else was out partying, he would watch game film.

“If you want company, I can bail on the party,” Cassidy offered.

“Hell, no. Knackers is irritating enough. If I stole his girl, I’d never hear the end of it,” David said.

“But it would be worth seeing him whine,” she said with a chuckle.

“It would,” David admitted. “Have fun.”

Cassidy gave him a kiss on the cheek and left.

◊◊◊

Oliver was on the lookout for Cassidy. When he saw a group of USC women rowers, he walked over to a cooler and grabbed a beer for his ‘date.’ Once he found her, he handed her the beer, and Cassidy took a long draw.

“Tell me something good.”

“Well …” Cassidy contemplated for a few seconds. “I’m still hot!”

One reason he liked her so much was she was fearless.

“Where’s your sidekick?”

“David’s home watching game film. But let’s not talk about him. Tell me something about you. Do you have a secret girlfriend I don’t know about?” Cassidy asked.

“No secret girlfriend. How about you? You don’t have a girlfriend either, eh?”

“Tell me about your first girlfriend,” she said to deflect his question.

“Tish was the hottest girl in school. Her boyfriend, Josh, was the coolest guy. They weren’t just part of the in-crowd; they led it. But I knew old Josh was a player, so I waited for him to cheat and made sure Tish was aware. She kicked him to the curb, and I slipped in.”

“Why did you break up?” Cassidy asked.

“She said I was too nice.”

“Christ. You couldn’t have been going out long. Did she even know you?”

“That was low. I think you should have to do a shot,” Oliver said.

“No way. I’m the designated driver.”

“I dare you.”

◊◊◊

He’d dared her, the dillhole. After a few, Cassidy felt no pain and thought she could dance. She promptly tripped over Oliver’s feet and crashed into Chuy’s date, spilling beer all over her top. Not to be outdone, Oliver tried to catch her and ended up face-planting in the middle of the living room. Cassidy’s embarrassment factor lowered from 100 to, oh, a 97.

Oliver rose to his feet, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with two beers—some Aussie microbrew for himself and a can of the cheap crap for Cassidy.

“What the hell?” Cassidy complained.

Oliver shrugged.

“I saw what you did with your last one.”

She couldn’t really argue with that. She caught him looking at her legs.

“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked.

“Sorry. It’s just that you have great legs, and I’m not sure what the rules are since, you know, this is our first date and all. But then again, we also made out, so I don’t know where we’re at in our relationship on the complimenting-your-body-parts scale.”

“Two things … made out? And there’s a scale?”

“On David’s show, we seriously made out, and of course there’s a scale. I mean, I wouldn’t just ask if you’re wearing a thong on a first date, even though I’m dying to know,” Oliver said. The look Cassidy gave him caused him to cover his balls. “You know, I’m just going to stop myself right there.”

“Since you’re from down under, I’ll clue you in on dating American girls. You have to wait three dates for the good stuff.”

Oliver choked on his beer.

“Stone the crows! Three dates without the good stuff? What am I supposed to do with this stiffy you’ve given me? My donger will quit me if I have to wait for three dates,” Oliver complained.

“Ask any girl here, and they’ll tell you about the three-date rule. No sexual activity of any kind until after the third date. If a guy’s only interested in a quick, easy lay, you dump him. If you are truly interested, I’m worth the wait,” Cassidy said.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. I bet you can’t do it,” Cassidy added with a smile.

“Fuck me sideways,” Oliver said, looking defeated. “I guess I deserve this because I dared you to do shots. You’re on, but let’s get these three dates out of the way quickly because I have some serious plans for you.”

Cassidy realized that messing with Oliver was more fun than kicking him in the knackers. Then she got excited.

“I love this song! Come dance with me,” she said, pulling him onto the dance floor.

◊◊◊

Toward the end of the night, the party started to clear out. Cassidy found the girls she’d brought and explained she was in no shape to drive. None of them were, either, so they each made their own arrangements to get back to campus.

“I’m from Australia. I’m fine to drive,” Oliver said.

“No! David would kill me if I let you drive his car,” Cassidy worried.

“I think he would rather you got home safely than worry about me driving his car.”

“Uh, no thanks.”

“Then I’ll walk with you,” Oliver offered.

“You know, I think this was our third date,” Cassidy teased.

“Really? How do you figure?”

“We can count the time you were on David’s podcast. Then there was the time David bought all the freshmen lunch, and I was there, and we sat across from each other.”

“And tonight!” Oliver said. “Give me the keys. We need to get to your place right now!”

Cassidy giggled and handed him the keys. She’d parked in the alley behind the apartment complex where several football players were living this semester.

As soon as they were in, Oliver started the car and took off like a bat out of hell, obviously eager for what was to come. Cassidy had a big, pleased smirk on her face.

Then they saw an old truck pull into the alley, headed toward them. It was a bang-bang sort of situation, as the Porsche was going much too fast to stop. The path was barely wide enough for two cars, and Cassidy screamed when Oliver swerved left instead of right. He must’ve relied on instinct; in Australia, they drive on the left side of the road.

She had time to brace her hand on the dash before there was a deafening crash as they hit the truck head-on. The Porsche crumpled to absorb the impact, but the truck’s bumper was higher, so the car’s front end slid under the truck until it hit its wheels.

Cassidy’s last memories were the airbags deploying, her arm feeling like it had been ripped off, and the truck’s bumper as it came through the Porsche’s windshield.

◊◊◊

David was awakened when his phone made a strange alert sound. He glanced over at the clock and saw it was almost two in the morning. He grabbed his phone and saw a message saying his car had been in an accident. Then, a moment later, another one came, stating that emergency services had been notified.

As part of the Porsche package, David had purchased an app-based safety service that could tell if your car had been in a wreck. They would contact you and see if you needed assistance. Either someone was hurt, or no one responded because they called for an ambulance when that happened.

David tried calling Cassidy and only got her voicemail, so he used the Find Me option to locate her. David hit his panic button to be safe because he knew they’d make sure Cassidy got the help she needed if the app failed. He sent a quick message saying it was Cassidy, where she was, and that he was on his way.

David threw on some clothes and was almost in his Demon when his mom called.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, but Cassidy’s been in a car wreck. I’m just getting into my car to go see if she needs help.”

“Call me as soon as you know.”

David quickly sent out a group message to stop the phone calls. Of course, that didn’t stop Brook, Cassidy’s best friend, from calling.

“What’s going on?” Brook asked.

“Don’t know yet. I’m headed there now. It’ll only be a couple of minutes,” David said.

“Don’t hang up,” Brook ordered.

He was glad Brook didn’t try to talk to him while he raced to where his app told him Cassidy was. David gasped when he turned into the alley.

“What! What’s happening!?” Brook asked.

“It’s bad. Her car hit a truck head-on, and it’s on top of the Porsche. I need to go,” David said as he pulled to a stop.

As he jumped out, he heard sirens. He ran to the driver’s side and found Knackers moaning.

“Help Cassidy,” Oliver managed to get out.

Momentarily, he wanted to reach into the car and strangle Knackers for drinking and driving, but his sense of protectiveness for his little ninja won out. David ran around the other side and cringed. Her face was bleeding from the glass, and she was unresponsive.

The ambulance came to a stop.

“Over here! She needs your help!” David called out.

The ambulance driver came over to look at her while the other paramedic carried a bag and checked on Knackers.

“Is anyone hurt in the truck?” the driver asked David.

“I’ll go check.”

He found the truck empty.

“No one there,” David called out.

“They either stole it or are illegal,” the driver said.

Another ambulance and a fire truck arrived. The fire crew had to cut both Knackers and Cassidy out of the Porsche. Cassidy hadn’t come to, which David felt was probably for the best because her arm looked terrible with a bone sticking out of it. He felt helpless, able only to watch as the EMTs cared for his friend.

Knackers was blubbering about driving too fast and swerving left instead of right. By now, the police had shown up, and David had the pleasure of dealing with them since Cassidy and Knackers were both whisked off to the emergency room.

◊◊◊

Chapter 1

Oliver felt like death on a cracker. As far as fuckups went, this was in his top five. If Cassidy died, he’d do serious jail time. He knew how this stuff went because his older brother had served five years in prison for something similar.

He’d spent the night in the hospital to avoid rotting in a jail cell. Oliver looked at the clock; it was just after nine in the morning. That would make it two a.m. the next day in Sydney. Fuck it, his brother would have to understand.

“Who died, mate?” Tom, Oliver’s brother, asked.

“Tom, I need your help.”

Oliver explained what had happened.

“How badly hurt is the sheila?”

“I don’t know. They had to cut her out of the car, and there was blood everywhere.”

“Were you pissed?” Tom asked.

“I was over the legal limit. What I want to know—” Oliver began, but his brother cut him off.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?” Tom asked emphatically.

“There’s no one I trust more, but—”

“No buts. We’re done with the buts and the whys and the stories. Whatever else comes out of your mouth this morning better not be a question,” Tom said.

Oliver knew that when his brother sounded like this, he was dead serious, and Oliver should listen.

“The coppers will be there soon to take you in. You need to be gone,” Tom said. “Go home only long enough to pack a bag and grab your passport, then take the train to San Francisco. Once there, lie low while I talk to the rellies to arrange to get you out of the States.”

Oliver guessed that Tom would call their uncle because he was swimming in it and had places all over the world. He figured he could hide out for a while until everything cooled down.

“Good on ya, mate. I owe you,” Oliver said and hung up.

Tom would come through for him.

◊◊◊

David had spent the night in the uncomfortable waiting room. He’d made arrangements for Roy Tyro, the owner of Lincoln Flight School, to fly Cassidy’s dad and brother in. David had called his mom, and she’d agreed to have them stay with his family at the Malibu house and to arrange transportation for them once they arrived.

Brook was also flying in.

Pam and Tracy, Cassidy’s roommates, had called when they saw the alert. David had told them to get a good night’s sleep and come in the morning.

He was zoning out when Pam sat down next to him.

“Coffee?”

She handed it to him.

“Ahh, the nectar of my people.”

Tracy chuckled as she sat down next to Pam.

“Tell us,” Pam ordered.

“Cassidy had three surgeries overnight, one to relieve the pressure on her brain and another to stop some internal bleeding in her gut. They also worked on her arm, but I was told what they did was only temporary. They’ll need an orthopedist and a vascular surgeon to fix it.”

“What about rowing?” Pam asked.

“I don’t know,” was David’s honest answer and biggest fear.

He’d seen how messed up Cassidy’s arm was when they pulled her out of the wreck. When the first doctor came out to give him an update, he’d said they might have to take the arm, but David was adamant they not do that until her dad got there. He had Brook looking for the best surgeons to give Cassidy a chance at using the arm again.

Both bones in her left forearm were broken in multiple places, and the flesh looked like someone had taken a meat mallet to it. The doctor thought he might have to take the arm because he was afraid they might not be able to return proper circulation if the veins were compromised. They did what they could, but soon, another surgery—maybe more than one—would be needed to deal with the bones and circulatory system.

“We’re sending you home to get some sleep. We promise to call you with any updates,” Tracy said.

“If you need anything, call my mom or dad,” David said as he got up to leave.

◊◊◊

“Where the hell is Dawson?” Jason Merritt asked his offensive coordinator, Wyatt Thomas.

“He left a message. Last night, Oliver Shaw was driving while drunk and had a serious car accident. Cassidy Hope was in the passenger seat and is in critical condition.”

“Jesus. Was Shaw hurt?”

“They held him overnight for observation, but David said he should be okay,” Wyatt said. “David spent the night at the hospital. I understand Cassidy needed several emergency surgeries. David’s gone home to get some sleep.”

“This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Give him today to get his head straightened out, but he needs to be at practice Monday.”

“Should I have Amy reach out to him? She’s a psychologist, after all.”

“Good call. If anyone can get David focused, it’s Amy,” Jason said. “Let’s get the other quarterbacks in here. One of them might have to step up and take David’s place.”

“What about Matt?” Wyatt asked.

“Long is suspended, and I’m not about to make an exception just because Dawson flakes out. Hell, we’ll just hand the ball off and still win the UNLV game.”

“I’ll get them in here.”

As the interim head coach, Jason was already under a ton of pressure. He felt bad for David’s friend, and the team loved her, but he didn’t have the luxury of letting his feelings get in the way of his job. His job was to win football games … period.

◊◊◊

David hovered somewhere between asleep and awake, too afraid to face the realities the day would bring. The sun streamed through his window, warm on his face. He glanced over at the clock; he’d slept five hours, so it was mid-afternoon.

He closed his eyes and, when he couldn’t avoid it any longer, opened them again. It took a moment to get the sleep out of his eyes, but they finally snapped into super-sharp-high-def, and he took a deep breath and shoved his sheets to the side.

“Get up,” David said to himself, knowing if he slept any more, he’d never get to sleep that night.

He put on a pair of shorts and wandered out into the living area. Alex was only wearing boxers, obviously embracing a college Sunday before school started.

“What smells so good?” David asked.

“Crystal stopped by and brought you something to eat. I was told that if I touched it, she’d come in during the middle of the night and cut my nuts off.”

David opened the bag and was impressed that Alex had shown so much self-restraint. The bag held an Italian beef sandwich, a cup of hot giardiniera, and fries. Plus, it was all still warm.

“Split it with me?” David asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Alex said as he jumped up and grabbed plates and a couple of Mountain Dews from the fridge.

“You want to cut it?” David asked.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because in my family, whoever cuts it has to let the other person pick their half. My mom put that rule in place so my brother and I wouldn’t fight,” David explained.

“Whatever, I trust you.”

David carefully measured it out and sliced the sandwich down the middle. He gave Alex his half while he put the spicy Italian relish on his own and took a big bite—heaven. As he ate, David called Tracy.

“Any word?”

“They put her into an induced coma,” Tracy shared.

“Why would they do that?” David asked.

“For the bleeding in the brain. The doctor explained that it helps with ‘burst suppression.’ The brain goes completely quiet for several seconds, alternating with short bursts of activity. The brain’s quiet period gives it vital time to rest and heal.”

David’s appetite was suddenly gone, so he handed Alex his fries.

“How bad is she?” David asked.

“The doctor said she’s in good shape, and they think she’ll come out of it just fine. But the healing process will take some time.”

“Has anyone else shown up?”

“Cassidy’s dad and brother are in with her. Brook is here. Do you want to talk to her?” Tracy asked.

She handed the phone to Brook.

“I found a couple of doctors for her arm,” Brook said without preamble. “One specializes in sports medicine, orthopedic trauma, and fracture management, and focuses on shoulder, elbow, wrist, and hand injuries. Dr. Varhus has agreed to come to examine Cassidy today.

“The other is a specialist in vascular surgery. As bad as her arm is, he’s the one who has the most challenging job. Dr. Nayan is one of the best.

“It’s going to take both of them to save her arm,” Brook shared.

“Are you flying them in?” David asked.

“Not necessary. Dr. Varhus is stuck in LA traffic, and Dr. Nayan is already here.”

“I need to take a shower, and I’ll be there shortly. Does anyone need anything?”

“Real food might be nice.”

“Okay, I’ll stop and get something,” David said before hanging up.

He grabbed his grocery app and ordered a bunch of food, and it said his order would be ready for pick up in thirty minutes.

As he was ordering online, Alex asked what was going on, so David gave him the Reader’s Digest version of all that had happened.

Alex was stunned and didn’t know what to say other than, “I hope she’s better soon.”

So did David.

◊◊◊

Coach Stackhouse had been asked to come and check on their quarterback. She wanted to make sure David didn’t lose focus on his commitment to the football team while supporting his friend. Coach Stackhouse found him in the ICU waiting room, off to the side, looking pale.

“How are you feeling, David?” she asked.

David looked up. She could see he was confused as to why she was there. Coach Stackhouse sat down beside him.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Cassidy?”

“They’ve induced a coma for her brain injury, and the ortho guy just saw her. He’s concerned about her left arm. But he thinks he and his team can work with the vascular guy and come up with a plan to put it back together again.”

“Oliver has gone missing. How does that make you feel?” Coach Stackhouse asked.

David cocked his head like a dog does when it hears something out of the ordinary.

“What’s your degree in?”

“I’m a psychologist.”

“Thought so. My uncle’s one, and he loves all that touchy-feely stuff,” David said, then his face clouded over. “What do you mean, Oliver’s missing?”

“His roommate said he came into the dorm, gathered some stuff in a suitcase, and left. The police are concerned he may try to flee the country.”

David shrugged and then surprised her.

“Good. I hope he gets away.”

She wasn’t buying it. If anything, David should be ready to go out, find Oliver, and mete out his own justice.

“That’s an enlightened response.”

David shrugged again. Coach Stackhouse had a bad feeling that David knew he had the resources to find Oliver whenever he wanted. She guessed that, at that moment, Cassidy was his priority. But after his friend was well, Oliver might have a problem.

“So, why are you here?” David asked.

“Honestly, for two reasons. The first is to assess whether you’re ready to take over as USC’s number one quarterback.”

“And number two?”

“To tell you you’re required to attend Monday’s practice. You have until then to get yourself together.”

He smiled for the first time. That response caused Coach Stackhouse to quit worrying about him. David had shown he was more mature than almost all other guys his age, and he knew what his responsibilities were.

“You should talk to my uncle because you’re a much better psychologist than he is. I just need someone to tell me what they expect, and I’m good.”

“So, I’ll see you at practice?” Coach Stackhouse asked.

“Sure. Let’s go with that for now,” David said, pulling her chain.

It was her turn to laugh.

“If you plan to bail, call me. But if you do, I doubt you’ll start.”

“Good to know.”

As she walked out, she was eighty percent sure she’d see him at the next day’s practice. The twenty percent would happen if he felt Cassidy needed him. If that turned out to be the case, she would make Coach Merritt understand.

◊◊◊

David spent the rest of the afternoon updating everyone, including his best friends Tami, Wolf, and Tim, about Cassidy’s condition.

Crystal showed up with more food, which everyone appreciated because the hospital cafeteria was only serviceable at best. David noted that Brook and his new ‘girlfriend’ disappeared for a while to ‘get coffee.’ They came back laughing, so he let it slide.

Coach Hope wanted to have a word with David, so they went for a walk. David needed some fresh air, so they found a small flower garden with a bench.

“What can I do for you, Coach?”

“Call me Tony. I’m no longer your coach, and I hope we’re friends.”

“Tony, it is.”

“What happened Saturday night? They said Cassidy’s blood-alcohol level was through the roof when they brought her in. I didn’t think she drank.”

“Knackers …”

“Who? Or should I say, what?”

“Oliver Shaw, the man who was driving, is a punter on USC’s team. He’s a bit of a wild card because Oliver’s older, I think like 25, and from Australia. I have nothing against Aussies; I loved them when I filmed there. It’s just that they can drink just about anyone—except maybe an Irishman—under the table.

“Oliver has had a crush on Cassidy from the start, but she has a mind of her own and rejected him. Oliver didn’t give up and wore her down. Last night was supposed to be their first date.

“I wasn’t worried about her drinking because she was supposed to be the designated driver. Oliver must have talked her into drinking with him,” David explained.

“I talked to the police, and they said it didn’t look like Oliver ever hit the brakes.”

David thought for a minute and suddenly felt sick. In Australia, they drive on the wrong side of the road. He’d read about an American woman who was traveling through the Outback and came upon a road train (where a semi pulls three or more trailers) that had drifted into the middle of the road. Out of instinct, she’d swerved to the right, while the trucker swerved to his left. She ended up hitting the truck head-on, killing her and her young daughter.

“I think his instincts kicked in and he swerved left at the last moment into the oncoming truck’s lane,” David explained.

“The police say he skipped town.”

“When the time comes, he’ll be found,” David said.

Tony gave him a stern look but then just nodded his understanding.

“Right now, my biggest concern is making sure my daughter gets the treatment she needs. But I might have to get a second mortgage, and even then, I might not be able to pay for what the insurance doesn’t,” Tony worried.

David knew that the school’s insurance for athletes covered a lot, but it might not cover bringing in the specialists.

“Brook and I have your back. I want you to just focus on your daughter’s recovery. We’ve both been blessed and would do anything for Cassidy. I know you’re a proud man, but this isn’t being done out of charity. We’re doing it because we love her, and she’s part of our family, too.”

Tony’s eyes teared up, and he pulled David into a tight hug.

“To think I told her to stay away from you.”

“With my reputation, you were right to do so. But you need to trust Cassidy’s judgment. I’m okay once you get to know me.”

“I know, and I’ve known that for longer than I ever admitted. If I forget, thank you for taking care of my little girl,” Tony said.

“It’s not just me, and it’ll take all of us before this is all over. I’ll do my part.”

◊◊◊

Brook received a call from Dr. Varhus, who would lead the surgery. She had him talk to Cassidy’s dad. The doctor planned to operate early in the morning. They would set all the breaks and put a plate in Cassidy’s arm to support both bones just below the elbow.

Since Cassidy was still in a coma, everyone decided to go home.

Brook stopped David before he left.

“Care to go somewhere and catch up?”

“I don’t really feel like going out,” David admitted.

“My hotel’s right across the street.”

David’s eyebrows raised, but he followed her to her room. When the door closed, Brook put on a sultry expression—or as sultry as she could manage. She placed her hands on his abs, feeling the ridges and his muscles contract under her fingertips.

“We probably shouldn’t …” David managed to get out.

She knew him too well. It wouldn’t take much for him to break, so she continued her exploration of his chest. David looked down and asked, “What’s this about?”

The stupid boy always looked a gift horse in the mouth and wanted to talk about it. Why couldn’t he be like other guys and just go with it?

“It’s about you and me forgetting about a horrible day and reminding ourselves of better times,” Brook said, then shut him up by kissing him.

She teased his lips, coaxing him and trying to remember how they’d made out in the past. It wasn’t that hard because the memories came flooding back.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” David said.

Anxiety and something else—maybe fear of falling for him again—swam in her veins as she slipped her hand farther down. David sucked in his breath as Brook inched her fingers past the elastic band on his boxers. His stomach tightened, and he stole the breath out of her kiss.

Brook pulled her lips back and shoved her hand into his underwear until she found Mr. Happy.

‘Well, hello there, big fella,’ Brook thought as his dick throbbed in her hand.

David grunted as she grasped him and started to tug gently upward.

“I’ve missed this,” David moaned.

David reached down and undid his belt and pants so they’d drop down his thighs. Brook pushed his boxers down so he was now exposed. She gained confidence, which caused her to pick up her jacking motion. After she’d traveled up and down his rigid cock a couple more times, she could feel David’s breathing get ragged as he buried his face in her neck.

David nibbled lightly at her skin, causing shivers to go up her back.

“Stop. That tickles,” Brook pleaded with a small smile.

David chuckled and moved back to her neck, so she countered his attack by jacking him off. He groaned in response, which caused her to go faster. That was when all the old feelings for him rushed back. David was a drug, one she didn’t think would ever leave her system.

“You keep that up, and I’ll cum,” David warned.

Brook doubled her efforts, which caused David to make his ‘cumming’ face. She pointed him away from her, and he shot his load all over the hotel rug. Brook made a mental note to never be a hotel cleaning lady.

David chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Want me to return the favor?”

“Will that hold you?” Brook asked.

“Yeah, and thank you. I needed that.”

“Could you sleep with me tonight and just hold me? I need that tonight,” Brook said.

He agreed. She always felt safe and loved in his arms. After seeing her best friend in a coma, it just felt right. She knew if he weren’t there, she would toss and turn all night. They both fell asleep almost immediately.

◊◊◊

Cassidy’s surgery went on for what seemed like forever. Finally, sometime after noon, Dr. Varhus came out.

“It went very well, all things considered, and I think that after rehab, Cassidy will regain full range of motion.”

“How long will her recovery be?” Tony asked.

“Once the swelling goes down, and we’re certain there are no issues with the surgical sites, we’ll immobilize her arm for about six weeks. After that, she’ll have to rehab for another four months. Note that when I say ‘full range of motion,’ that’s if she’s successful in rehab. If she plans to row again, well, the jury’s still out on whether that’s possible, but it would certainly take a great deal more than four months,” Dr. Varhus shared.

David’s whole day just got better. Even if she couldn’t row, she’d be close to her old self.

“Any idea how much longer she’ll be in the coma?” Tony asked.

“The swelling in her brain went down overnight, so we’ve taken her off the medicine that induced the coma. She should be awake soon, and I’ll have a nurse come get you once we have her in her new room. She’s moving out of the ICU.”

◊◊◊

After Brad and Tony saw her, it was Brook and David’s turn.

“I hear I killed your car,” Cassidy said as David walked in.

“Good thing it’s insured,” Brook said as she walked in.

“Brook!” Cassidy called out, obviously happy to see her best friend.

“I see where I stand,” David grumped.

“Shove it. You get to see her all the time,” Brook teased.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you, Buttercup?” David asked.

Cassidy gave Brook a quick look and then looked sad.

“I hurt,” Cassidy said with a pout.

David knew he was in for it, but he didn’t care. His friend was going to be okay.

“I’ll go find a nurse,” David said and left the room.

Before the door closed, he could hear both Brook and Cassidy giggle. Brook chastised her for being a bad girl.

◊◊◊

David missed his first day of classes, but he suspected that all it entailed was a brief introduction, a recap of the syllabus, and then everyone would go on their merry way. He wasn’t too worried because he’d loaded up on Tuesday/Thursday classes to allow him to get done early on Fridays.

Then he went to football practice, where he didn’t shine. Because of his less-than-stellar play, Coach Merritt got on him pretty hard and then made the team run conditioning. Everyone knew it was a ploy because football coaches loved to work their asses off before the first game. But David had never been the cause before.

By the time he left the field, he was dead on his feet. Then, his thoughts returned to his friend.

His heart ached for Cassidy, and he wished he could take her pain away.

“This is positively the worst first day of school ever,” David said to himself.

“And just think, it’s not over yet,” a girl said, surprising him out of his funk.

“Thanks, that gives me something to look forward to,” David said and shook his head slowly.

He glanced up and saw the earnest face looking back at him.

‘If Hello Gorgeous hadn’t come along …’ David thought as he smiled.

“I’m David, better known as Bond, Ian Bond.” His voice dropped at ‘Bond,’ like a TV announcer.

“You and my mom are BFFs. You took her to coffee and then invited her up to your room. My dad told me to look you up.”

“Here I am.”

Maybe the day wasn’t going to be utterly sucktastic after all.

◊◊◊

Chapter 2

David’s second day of school went much better. Brook had called and told him the doctors were much encouraged by Cassidy’s progress, so much so that her dad and brother would be flying back to Illinois soon. Football practice had also done a one-eighty, and the offense was back on track.

After practice ended, Coach Merritt had one of the team managers tell David he’d been summoned.

When he reached the coaches’ offices, he found Rachel, Coach Farrow’s daughter, at the reception desk. When she saw it was him, she rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

“You’re certainly different, aren’t you, Rach?”

“I don’t know. Is that good different or I-should-come-with-a-warning-label different?”

“I guess that depends on the day. Are you inclined to tell me why I’ve been summoned?” David asked.

She gave him an unbelieving look.

“And spoil the fun?”

“Dawson, quit flirting with Rachel and get in here,” Coach Merritt called from his office.

“Until next time,” David said as he gave Rachel a bow.

He saw the sides of her mouth quirk up involuntarily. He kept his own smile in check because he knew he was wearing her down.

David walked in and found Coach Merritt wasn’t alone. He was with Drew Langford, USC’s new athletic director, and Brent Allison, the Pac-12 commissioner. David had a feeling he knew what this was about.

“Brent, how’s your wife doing?” David asked as he shook his hand.

Drew gave them a surprised look, so David enlightened him. “Brent came to my birthday party this summer.”

“I told Governor Blackfarmer I’d be seeing you today. He said he’d like to sit down with you and discuss the homeless situation. He was impressed by all the money you raised,” Brent said.

“It probably won’t amount to anything, but I’d be open to talking to him,” David said.

“His people will be in touch,” Brent said, then shifted topics. “Why don’t we tell David why we asked him here?”

“I understand you have an agreement in place concerning your image,” Drew said to begin the meeting.

“Because of my other activities, my image is important to me. Before it’s used, I want my PR people to approve any promotions using my name, image, or likeness,” David said.

“We’re asking that you do some short commercials for the university that would be run during football and basketball games. And the Pac-12 would like to use your name and image for similar endeavors,” Drew explained.

David had expected this was coming, so he was prepared.

“Frank Ingram handles my PR. Let me give you his number. I pay him too much money to make sure my image isn’t tarnished not to get his approval before I do anything,” David said.

Coach Merritt handed him a pad of paper to write down the number.

“Once we get his permission, how soon could you do the commercials? We’d like to have them ready for Saturday’s game,” Drew said.

David wanted to tell him to stuff it because Drew had waited until the last minute but kept those thoughts to himself. Instead, he gave the man a smile. David knew he might want to cultivate his relationship with the new athletic director since he’d be hiring the next head football coach.

“If you can work it in around my other commitments, I’d be happy to help.”

“Of course, football comes first.”

“And school,” Coach Merritt added.

“Yes. School is a priority,” Drew said to cover his blunder.

“What about you?” David asked Brent.

“Nothing concrete right now. I just wanted to see if you were open to doing something.”

“Do you have any pull with the Pac-12 Network?” David asked.

“They’re their own entity, but I do have some sway.”

“Could I suggest a student reporter? Tracy Dole covered baseball last spring, and she would make a perfect representative for USC,” David suggested.

“This is why I like you. You’re always thinking of ways to network to advance your goals. I’ll see what I can do,” Brent promised.

“You don’t know how you can help me unless I tell you,” David said with a big smile.

“And now you’ll owe me,” Brent fired back.

“I think it’ll be the other way around when you see what Tracy can do,” David said, then turned to Coach Merritt. “Anything else?”

“Are you going to see Cassidy?”

“After dinner.”

“Let me know how she’s doing.”

David nodded and left.

◊◊◊

After David’s exit, Jason called in Amy Stackhouse and told her about the meeting he’d just had.

“I have to say, it was pretty amazing to watch David in action. Did you know he’s on a first-name basis with Brent Allison, the Pac-12 commissioner? And that he knows and has met with NCAA President Mark Ellison? Not only that, but he knows the governor, and Governor Blackfarmer wants to meet with him.

“He’s also on a first-name basis with the two biggest donors to USC athletics. I can’t remember any player having those sorts of connections. Anyway, by the end of the meeting, it felt like David had called the meeting and run it. He even worked to get another student a job.”

“And you’re wondering if Dylan was wrong in naming Matt the starter in spring ball?” she asked.

“I admit I made some assumptions because I was focused on the defensive backs at the time. I didn’t pay close attention to the offensive side of the ball. It was right before fall practice began when I was named head coach. I know I said that all positions were open to competition …” he trailed off.

“Remember, I told you the decision was going to be hard because they both played well,” Amy said.

“I’m starting to wonder if I’ve discounted David’s leadership abilities in favor of Dylan’s assessment,” Jason said. “Though now that I think about it, he was more than a bit biased toward his favorites. This may very well be one of those cases.

“You should have seen David at the end of the spring game. With the second-string offense against the number-one defense, he turned a broken play into a long score. Matt couldn’t have done that.”

“In the end, it’s your job to decide who starts. I suggest you sit down with all the coaches and get their feedback,” she said.

“If it were you, what would you do?” Jason asked.

“I’d start Dawson because he’s shown his leadership. For example, when he encouraged Bear to pancake Percy, and when he got the Cardinal team to execute in the Cardinal and Gold game. I think the team will follow his lead. But then again, Matt has a much better grasp of running the offense. Despite my concerns about Matt’s leadership, I think you can win with either.”

“I agree with your point about leadership; David has impressed me with his skills there, such as getting the freshmen and backups to train this past summer. And he certainly learned the defense quickly. He may not be up to speed on the offense yet, but I suspect he’ll get there quicker than most people think. But none of that really matters; for this week, I have no choice.”

◊◊◊

Cassidy’s room looked like a florist’s shop. She had flowers from the rowing team and coaches, the guys she’d trained for the NFL, and the girls she’d gotten into shape. She even got some from the football team, which surprised her.

Cassidy was in a mood when David arrived. When Brook saw him, she pulled David outside so they could talk.

“She’s starting to internalize how messed up she is from the accident,” Brook explained.

“What did the doctors say?”

“That she might never row again. When she asked about the Marines, Cassidy learned it would never happen.”

“I wouldn’t count my little ninja out as far as rowing goes. You know how hard she will rehab,” David said.

“Her dad wants her to come home to Illinois to rehab,” Brook said to drop the real bombshell.

“She’d have to take a semester off,” David worried.

“I know.”

The two of them were quiet for a minute. Finally, he sighed.

“We need to have a united front,” he said.

Brook gave him a funny look.

“What?” David asked.

“You make us sound like her parents.”

“In a way, we are. It’s our job to protect her,” he said.

“No, it’s not.”

David was taken aback by what Brook had just said. It took him a few minutes to wrap his brain around the implications. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was right. Cassidy was an adult now, and it wasn’t up to David or Brook to decide for her. It was just their job to be her friends.

“Should we have offered to pay her medical bills and fly her dad and brother out?” David asked.

“We are blessed to have money. Here’s how I look at it: so long as it doesn’t hurt us or our families and,” Brook drew out, “we decide to do it voluntarily, it’s our money; we can do with it what we want.”

“Okay.”

“Cassidy’s accident has made me think about this, and I encourage you to do the same. I’ve been too quick to open my wallet. We both have enough money that we could retire today, but I’ve seen people like us lose it all due to ‘helping’ friends and family,” Brook explained.

David had heard cautionary tales of professional athletes who’d squandered staggering amounts of money doing exactly what she described.

He knew Brook had her own money given to her by her grandmother. He also knew Grace would come to her granddaughter’s rescue if she ever needed it. But Brook’s point wasn’t lost on him.

“So, what exactly are you saying?” David asked.

“That we honor the commitments we’ve made. The two specialists and their teams were expensive, but Cassidy would most likely have lost the use of her arm without them. But from here on out, we step back and only help when asked.”

“Even if Coach Hope has to get a second mortgage on his home?”

“It’s not our place to tell him or Cassidy how to live their lives.”

David chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Brook asked, looking annoyed.

“I think this is the first time you’ve given me a life lesson. Normally, it’s either Tami or some adult like my uncle schooling me.”

“You don’t think I’m capable?” Brook asked, taking it the wrong way.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’ve always admired you and respected what you’ve told me. But you’ll always be my friend who’ll do wild and crazy stuff like skydiving with me. That person isn’t the one I think of when I need a life lesson. I was amused because, at some point, you became Miss Responsible,” David explained.

“I’m still fun,” she fired back.

“And that right there is why I never argue with women,” he said, softening it by grinning at his pouting friend.

Brook realized he wasn’t attacking her and smiled back at him.

“I don’t want Cassidy to go home,” David said as he got serious again.

“How did you feel when I told you I was moving to Cincinnati?”

“The same way.”

“And what did you do?”

“Supported your decision,” he admitted.

“We’ll just have to do the same for Cassidy.”

“But I won’t like it.”

“Neither would I,” Brook agreed.

“When are you leaving?” David asked to change the subject.

“Tomorrow. I have to get back to school.”

“Does Cassidy know?”

“I told her today, and she’s fine,” Brook said to put his mind at ease.

“Why don’t I go back in to give you a break?”

“Okay. I could really use a hot shower and some room service, so I’ll take you up on your offer,” Brook said, leaning in and kissing David’s cheek. “Tracy and Pam will be here in an hour and agreed to stay with Cassidy until visiting hours are over.”

“Okay, thanks. I love you too,” he said as he got up and returned to Cassidy’s room before it got weird between him and Brook.

◊◊◊

David had sent Crystal a message that he was headed back to his dorm. He grabbed some carryout and asked if she wanted to join him. She hadn’t had any alone time with him in almost two weeks, so she agreed. David said he’d message her when he got to her sorority.

Taylor popped her head in the door and saw Crystal getting ready to go out.

“Where are you going? I wanted to talk to you about rush.”

Taylor was this fall’s pledge mistress.

“It’ll have to wait. I’m going over to David’s.”

“Don’t forget to ask him if he’ll be a celebrity bartender at my rush,” Taylor pressed.

“You mean ‘our’ rush,” Crystal reminded Taylor. “He’ll be here in a second to pick me up. You can ask him yourself.”

Crystal’s phone buzzed.

“He’s here.”

Taylor raced her down the stairs and threw the door open before David could knock.

“Just the man I was looking for,” Taylor announced.

David glanced at Crystal to see what her redheaded friend was up to. Crystal shook her head to let him know he was on his own.

“What can I do for you, Taylor?” he asked.

“First, I want a ride in that souped-up car of yours sometime. But the main reason I need to talk to you is that rush starts next week. Crystal said you would do whatever I needed to make sure it ran smoothly.”

“Did she?” David asked, cocking his head sideways.

“She did,” Taylor said, confident in her lie.

Crystal stood still as they both looked at her.

“You two can work this out,” she finally said.

“I want you to be our celebrity bartender,” Taylor said.

“But you can’t serve actual alcohol at a rush event,” Crystal quickly added.

“Can I make my own special mocktails?” David asked.

“Anything you want if you’ll say, ‘Yes,’” Taylor said.

“If Crystal said I’d do it, I will,” David said.

Taylor was completely manic, jumping up and down.

“Come on before she ropes you into anything else,” Crystal said.

As they got into the car, Taylor yelled, “I love you, David!”

“I think you have a new fan,” Crystal said as they drove to David’s dorm.

When they got to his suite, they found Alex and Chloe lounging in the living room.

“My man! I was hoping you’d bring some grub,” Alex said when he saw David had food.

David had stopped at a new place that offered double-fried chicken, giant buttermilk biscuits, and onion rings.

While the boys got everything organized, Chloe wanted to talk to Crystal.

“My mom turned me on to a cosmetics company that wants to launch a new moisturizer. I’ve set up a meeting to see them Friday, and I was hoping you’d go with me,” Chloe said excitedly.

Crystal had agreed to help Chloe figure out how to monetize herself as an Internet influencer. Crystal wanted to be an agent someday and felt influencers needed honest representation. There were stories about shady stuff done to some of the early influencers. Working with Chloe would help her learn the ropes.

“That was great of your mom. We’ll have to think of some way to kick things off with a bang,” Crystal said.

“Alex said we could go out on his boat on Sunday,” David said, joining their conversation.

Chloe wasn’t sure about that because the last time she went out, it was on a small boat, and she got seasick. Before she could object, David added, “It’s more a yacht than a boat. Think Russian oligarch size.”

“How many people can you get on it?” Crystal asked.

“A hundred easily, but I was thinking it would just be maybe twenty or thirty people,” Alex said, then added, “You should have David be your crash test dummy. If anyone knows about creams, it’s him.”

Crystal chuckled because Alex was right. David had more stuff than most girls she knew.

“I was taught that skin care was essential for people in modeling and movies, so you can all bite me.”

“Will you help me?” Chloe asked David.

“Help you bite me?”

“No, smartass, help me with my video.”

“As long as it doesn’t take too long. I want to have fun, too. And I have to clear it with my PR guy.”

“Deal,” Chloe said.

Everyone grabbed their food and got comfortable because Chloe had picked out a movie to watch on streaming video. The evening was relaxed and chill. Although, for Crystal, it was nerve-wracking because every time David leaned in close to talk to her, she expected him to kiss her. Every time he touched her hand, she thought he would hold it. Crystal worried she had food stuck to her shirt or something every time she caught him checking her out.

When the movie ended, David asked, “Do you want me to give you a ride home?”

Not sure what to say, she agreed. After he dropped her off, Crystal realized that he’d really been asking her if she wanted to stay the night. If she’d said ‘no,’ she’d have been waking up with him the next morning. She was a neurotic idiot.

◊◊◊

David was someplace he’d never been before, the Hoose Library of Philosophy. It was the oldest library on the USC campus and harkened back to the stunning buildings built nearly a hundred years before. The main reading room was topped by a high cathedral ceiling and filled with original artwork and furniture from local artists. David could see coming back here to study because of the inviting ambiance.

“Come on, people, let’s get everything set up!” a student director called out.

Professor Blum and David’s ex, Colleen O’Connor, oversaw the swarm of film students shooting the day’s commercial. The young director looked frazzled, probably because he thought he needed to approve every tiny detail. Since it looked like it would be a while before they were ready, David decided to take the time and actually study.

David had signed up for a critical thinking class. It wasn’t normally offered, but a visiting lecturer, Professor Paul Elder, was teaching it this semester. The purpose of the course was to teach how to cut through rhetoric and uncover manipulation or deception from different places, such as scientists, religious zealots, and politicians. It was basically to help hone your BS detector.

Today’s class involved chain arguments. The conclusion of one argument may be the premise of another, so a series of arguments may be linked together like a chain to reach a conclusion. Professor Elder’s contention was that every link in the chain must work, including the premise—not just most of them. His example was based on a piece of art stolen from a museum.

“The fact is that between the time the art was placed on the wall and the time the theft was discovered, no one and nothing touched it. That means that the art could not have been stolen between the time it was hung and the time the theft was discovered. Therefore, the art must have been stolen outside that period,” Professor Elder had taught.

He broke this chain down into three separate arguments:

i. The fact was that between the time the art was placed on the wall and the time the theft was discovered, no one and nothing touched it.

ii. That meant the art could not have been stolen between the time it was hung and the time the theft was discovered.

iii. Therefore, the art must have been stolen outside that period.

If any of the three could be brought into question, then the whole chain was suspect.

The call, “Ready on set!” interrupted David’s thoughts, and he looked up.

“Good Lord,” he muttered.

The director was going to make sure he got every angle. Usually, there’d be straight-on cameras for the actors and then one off to the side to catch them both; this guy had seven plus a handheld.

“Are you ready?” the director asked David.

“Yes. Let’s do this,” David said and looked back down at his book to get ready.

“Action!”

A female student sat down across from David, causing him to look up.

“Are you …?”

“David A. Dawson, hi.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, acting like a total fangirl.

“That’s all right. I’m a student, just like you.”

“But you could have gone to college anywhere.”

“But this place is great. The University of Southern California is a place like no other.”

“And cut! Let’s do it again!”

‘Fuck me,’ David thought but went back to looking at his book so they could do it again.

He started to miss his days filming the J-dramas and their one-shot-and-move-on approach when, after the tenth iteration, Professor Blum had to stop it. David had agreed to some voice-over work, so he, Colleen, and Professor Blum walked to USC’s sound studios.

Colleen tried to talk to him as they walked, but David ignored her.

When they arrived, a girl was finishing up, so they had to wait a moment.

“Thanks for being professional earlier. My next lesson is going to have to be about delegation and allowing your crew to do their job,” Professor Blum said.

“And maybe not so many cameras,” David suggested. “The only time I remember having that many for a shot was when filming a stunt they didn’t want to attempt more than once.”

When it was David’s turn behind the microphone, the director simply asked, “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

“Okay. I’ll just let it run, so start whenever you want and watch the clock. Each spot is thirty seconds.”

David nodded and began to read his lines.

“There’s a place steeped in tradition that’s been forged in California sunshine and strengthened by the inspiration of a world-class private research university. It’s meeting tomorrow’s challenges today. It’s breaking old ways of thinking with new creativity and celebrating our achievements. The University of Southern California is a place like no other,” he recited and paused for a moment before beginning on the next one.

“One thing remains certain. Our students need skills that last a lifetime. Flexibility, resilience, creativity, and the humility to realize at graduation that their education has just begun. The University of Southern California is a place like no other.”

When David read his lines for the second spot, he slowed his pace and paused so he ended right at the thirty-second mark, just as he’d done for the first.

“We got it. Thanks,” the director said, and David was done.

◊◊◊

He went to visit Cassidy.

“My love for daytime TV is vast, but even it has its limits,” was Cassidy’s opening remark.

“Does that mean you want to go home?”

“I get checked in the morning, and if all is good, I’m free. Your mom is picking me up.”

“Where are you planning on going to rehab?” David asked.

She sighed.

“I’m going to fly home with my dad.”

“If you can’t handle it, I have a bye week in five or six weeks. I plan to fly back to watch Phil play football. If you clear it with your dad, you can come back to California with me.”

“Do I get to be the pilot?”

“Maybe—when it’s on autopilot.”

“You don’t trust me to fly with one hand?” Cassidy challenged.

David wasn’t taking the bait. His little ninja was frustrated with lying around, so she liked to start arguments to liven things up. Instead, he told her about doing his commercials and how Taylor had talked him into being their celebrity bartender.

“You better watch yourself, or Alpha Mu will turn you into their pet.”

“As long as I get belly rubs.”

Cassidy made an inappropriate comment, which caused them both to laugh. The two of them fell into an easy banter until he had to go.

On his drive home, David flipped the switch to football. It was finally time for him to play his first college game.

◊◊◊

Chapter 3

The night before the game, the football team was loaded onto buses and taken to a downtown hotel. The new players soon learned that room assignments depended on a combination of depth chart and seniority.

Players like Willy Powell, USC’s center and offensive captain, got a room on the top floor with the best view. Those like Nick ‘Big Cat’ Collins, a freshman, had a room on a lower floor overlooking the parking lot and on the same floor as all the coaches. David and Alex were both starters with no seniority, so they were on the top floor but overlooked the dumpsters.

After a team dinner and quick meetings, everyone was allowed to do as they pleased so long as they didn’t leave the hotel. David was called to a conference room where Coaches Merritt, Thomas, and Stackhouse wanted to go over film with him one last time.

After the film session, Coach Thomas held David back to have a word with him. When they were alone, he began, “How are you feeling?”

“Equal parts excited and scared,” David admitted.

“You might not know this, but I played quarterback when I was in college. I was a career backup until midway through my senior year, when our starter went down. I was terrified when I stepped onto the field. In my first two series, I fumbled a snap and threw an interception.”

David winced because that was his worst nightmare.

“I settled down after that,” Coach Thomas said. “We got our butts kicked, but I discovered I belonged on the field. My coach told me what my role was and to just do my job.”

“Good advice.”

“I want you to take it to heart because we’re good enough to beat UNLV without any heroics on your part. I know that you have the ability to throw a ball into a tight window and make a play, but that isn’t your job tomorrow. I would rather you dump it off, and we have to punt the ball. The only way we lose is if we turn the ball over,” Coach Thomas said.

David wanted to argue because he was confident in his abilities, but Coach Thomas got paid to make these calls. If he wanted David to play it conservatively, he would.

“If I were UNLV,” Coach Thomas continued, “I’d want to force you to make bad decisions. They’ll blitz, try to trick you with disguised coverages, trash talk, and get you to doubt yourself.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Coach Stackhouse told me.”

“Well, she’s right. Keep a clock in your head when you drop back to pass. If nothing is open, either dump it off or run the ball. They’ve never faced someone with your size and speed.”

“I can do that.”

“And if you’re going to get hit, slide. I can’t risk you getting hurt,” Coach Thomas added.

“Yes, sir.”

“You ready for this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get a good night’s rest. Room check will be at 10:30,” Coach Thomas said, dismissing him.

◊◊◊

Alex had brought his game system and hooked it up to the hotel’s TV. Most of the freshmen were in his room, playing a football video game. Big Cat and Chuy were currently playing.

“I can’t believe you picked Cleveland. Have they won anything this century?” Bear asked to harass Big Cat.

“My dad was a Browns fan, so I grew up a Browns fan. Deal with it. And anyway, they’re getting better,” Big Cat said to defend his Browns.

There was an electronic sound at the door, and David walked in.

“Well, hello, boyz,” he drawled.

“We’re ordering pizza. Are you in?” Alex asked.

“I could eat,” David agreed.

“Bear’s collecting the money,” Alex told his roommate.

“You know the rest of the team will want in on this,” David said.

“They can get their own.”

“When the offensive line shows up, are you going to tell them they can’t have a slice?”

Alex knew David was right.

“What should we do?” he finally asked his roommate.

“Have these guys go door-to-door and collect money. I’ll ask one of the coaches if we can use the ballroom we had dinner in. That way, our room doesn’t get trashed and smell like pizza all night,” David suggested.

“I’ll organize this bunch while you deal with pizza and locations,” Alex said.

Alex chuckled as he walked down to Willy’s room because he’d taken the easy job. He found their center with a few other linemen in his room.

“Hey, Dawson’s organizing pizza. I need you to figure out who wants some,” Alex said and told Willy how much per head. He also explained that they had to get their own drinks.

“I like this. It’s good to see the new guys doing a bit of team-building. I’ll make a couple of calls and get you the numbers. I assume everyone will want in,” Willy said.

By the time David returned from talking to the coaches, Willy had gotten them a rough headcount. Alex was impressed when David ordered pizza from a handful of different places. He explained that he’d learned that trick from one of his personal assistants. That way, no one place was overwhelmed with orders.

A half-hour later, players began to come down to the ballroom. Alex noted that the coaching staff had joined them. The team managers took over when the pizzas started to arrive. Willy held the team off until the last batch of food was delivered.

“Before we eat, I want to thank the rookies for organizing the food. Be sure to put your money into the pitchers at the end of the table …”

Willy was interrupted by Coach Merritt.

“No need to pay. I like this idea of a late-night snack where we’re all together before a game. I’ll get the university or boosters to pick up the tab. Next game, the sophomores are responsible for organizing the food. Be sure to thank the freshmen, and let’s eat!”

Alex saw that David had paid upfront for all the pizzas and had collected all the receipts. He made a show of giving the receipts to Coach Merritt. He chuckled when Coach Stackhouse made everyone switch tables so they were eating with people they didn’t normally hang out with.

It also wasn’t lost on him that David went from table to table to talk to each of his teammates. He saw that the coaching staff also noted his roommate networking. Someday, that boy was going to run the world.

◊◊◊

David got to experience one of the game-day traditions. When Pete Carroll was hired at USC back in the early 2000s, he started the Trojan Walk. Exactly two hours before each game, the Trojans arrived at the Coliseum on their buses. They would parade through the crowd on their way into the stadium under the Olympic torch.

It created a fan-friendly vibe that brought the players right to the forefront of the game-day experience while becoming a fixture of pregame B-roll for every USC home game. Plus, how cool was it to see kids reach out and high-five their heroes?

David was halfway to the entrance when he heard, “Daddy!” as Coby wiggled free of his grandma and ran to him. His son was all decked out in a number 11 jersey with ‘Dawson’ on the back. USC was one of a handful of schools that had never put the player’s name on their uniform, but his mom thought it was silly. His whole clan had them on.

David scooped Coby up, carried him over to where his family was, and said hello to and hugged all his kids. They wanted to tell him about tailgating. His mom had found a company that did it all for them. All his dad had to do was pull up and put cheese-filled hotdogs—ambrosia to his kids—on the grill and kick back.

After the game, the company would return and take down the tent and everything under it. They’d added a fence around the outside of the tent so the adults didn’t have to worry about the eight little ones terrorizing other tailgaters.

“Uncle David!” Greg’s three cried out to get his attention.

He gave his niece and nephews a hug.

“David, you need to get inside,” Coach Stackhouse said.

While he’d said hello to his family, the rest of the team had already gone in.

“Sorry, guys. They can’t start the game without me.”

◊◊◊

After warm-ups, David went to the training room to get his ankles re-taped. They had a live feed of what was happening on the football field. The USC drum major marched out onto the field with a sword in his hand. From inside the locker room, David could hear the crowd respond as the sword was stabbed into the turf, directing the marching band to come onto the field.

Like Ohio State’s script Ohio and dotting of the ‘i,’ this tradition was one of the most recognizable in college football.

The USC marching band performed their pregame concert accompanied by the USC Song Girls. He had to leave to meet with the team, so he missed the moment when Traveler—USC’s majestic pure white horse ridden by a guy in Trojan garb—made his entrance.

Originally, Traveler would gallop around the track after touchdowns. Now, with the track removed, he trotted out to glad-hand fans along the edges of the stands.

After a quick meeting with the coaches, David finally had the opportunity to put his earbuds in, crank up some rock music, and mentally prepare for the game. It was a routine he’d started in high school that allowed him to block out the world for a time. He visualized himself and his teammates having success as he mentally ran through key offensive plays he would run.

One of his teammates tapped him on the shoulder to let him know it was time.

Coach Merritt had the whole team gathered around.

“Take a knee!”

Once everyone was settled, he began.

“Instead of a traditional motivational speech, I asked Heisman winner and two-time Pro Bowler Charles White to say a few words.”

A man in his sixties came to the front of the room as the team politely clapped. David assumed that most of them, like him, had no idea who the guy was because he had to have played before David was even born.

“Wow … uh … What an honor to be here in front of you guys. It’s a great day today. You only get so many of these in your life. Season openers give you a chance to set the tone for the rest of the season. It also gives you a chance to finally hit someone other than your teammates,” Charles said, drawing some chuckles.

“I remember my first game over forty years ago and the pride I took when I put on my USC uniform. It was the culmination of eight years of effort, starting with playing flag football at recess in grade school all the way through high school ball. All the work once I got onto campus, and fall practice, to finally get to strap a helmet on and represent this great university.

“Today, every college football team across America is undefeated. They all have dreams of winning the national championship. But I’m here to tell you that it will be USC hoisting that trophy at the end of the season, and it starts right now.

“Let’s go out and show the country they have to go through us … that we are the team to beat!” Charles concluded.

David saw the team was ready as they followed Charles into the tunnel. In the stadium, loud rock music blared as they made their way to the entrance. Then the piped-in music stopped, and the USC marching band began to play Fight On! It was one of the most iconic songs in college football.

When David ran onto the field, the noise of the crowd cheering washed over him. He saw the fans giving the traditional two-fingered V-for-victory sign. FOX had made this their Game Day destination, meaning they were the featured game today. That was how David came to throw up on national TV.

As he wiped off his mouth, he noticed the VR camera setup. Before leaving, Dare and Corvus had trained a couple of the team managers on how to run the equipment; it looked like they had everything under control.

The sideline reporter wanted to have a quick word with him before the kickoff. Back home, it became a running joke that if he threw up before a game, it meant they would win. He discovered that throwing up got him out of having to do the interview.

David paused a moment to take it all in. The Coliseum was one of the most recognizable stadiums in college football, and it was packed. This was what he’d wanted, to step out onto a bigger stage and see how he measured up. It was finally time to show the world what David Dawson was capable of.

UNLV won the toss and decided to go against the norm and take the ball to start the game. That turned out to be a mistake because they threw three straight incompletions before having to punt the ball. Their punter had a leg and kicked the ball on a line drive away from USC’s return man. He was unable to catch it, so he let it roll inside their twenty-yard line.

Coach Thomas gave David the first play, a slant pass over the middle to Tyrell Mulford, their slot receiver.

David called the play and got everyone lined up with him under center.

“Seventy … seventy. Set!”

One of the linemen jumped before the snap to move them back five yards. Coach Thomas called the same play.

“Set! Check! Check! Hike!”

Willy snapped the ball, and David dropped back. Tyrell got stoned by an outside linebacker and went to the turf. David went to his second read—his wide receiver Bill Callaway—when he saw rookie left tackle Bear Barber get beaten by UNLV’s defensive end.

David remembered what Coach Thomas had told him yesterday, so he tucked the ball and found a gap to run through. UNLV was in a press man-to-man to give the USC receivers a hard time, which meant their focus was mainly on the receivers, not the quarterback.

Once David escaped the pocket, he ran right down the center of the field. He almost laughed because it was like the UNLV defense did one of those cartoon ‘uh oh’ looks as they realized he was on the loose and sprinting downfield.

Their safety made a dive to take his legs out but bounced off David’s thigh.

That was one of Coach Farrow’s pet peeves, and the kid would have been benched if he’d been on USC’s team. Their defensive coordinator preached that if you were making a tackle, actually tackle the guy, don’t dive and hope it knocks him down.

Eighty-eight yards later, David had scored his first college touchdown.

◊◊◊

On USC’s third possession, they were up 7–3. Coach Thomas was trying to get his playmakers involved, but they seemed to have first-game jitters. Marcus Eshete, the Pac-12’s top returning running back, had seven carries for seven yards. Amari Weeks at wide receiver had been targeted three times and dropped each pass. USC had to punt.

While on the sideline, David overheard the receivers coach getting all over Amari over the dropped passes.

Coach Thomas pulled David aside and told him about a change in the game plan.

Before they went back out, David stopped to talk to Amari.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about those drops. I know you can do this, and so do you. Just relax and shake it off.”

“Thanks, David. You’re right; I can do this. We can do this. Just give me a minute,” Amari said.

David then went to Willy and the offensive line.

“I just talked to Coach Thomas, and we’re going heavy run-pass option. Just assume that every play is a run, and let’s knock their dicks in the dirt. Be mindful that when you knock them back, not to go more than three yards downfield.”

Then he turned to Bear.

“Quit worrying about their speed. Do what you did against Percy in the practice game that earned you a steak dinner. I want to see you pancake that pain in my ass on the next play and every play going forward,” David encouraged.

Bear just nodded in response.

“Offense!” Coach Merritt called.

So far, the offense would gain two or three yards on first down and either get stopped on second down or lose yardage. David would then run an RPO play on third down and seemed to have to keep it to gain the first down.

◊◊◊

“The only thing that seems to be working for USC right now is David Dawson running the ball,” broadcast ‘color man’ Tom Rubin said.

“It’s first and goal on the seven-yard line. What would you do on this play?” Jerry Hammill, the play-by-play announcer, asked.

“I’d run the tight end to the back of the end zone and let him use his height to score.”

“Dawson is in the shotgun and hands the ball to Eshete up the middle. His hard running gains three yards, making it second and goal at the four-yard line.”

“That’s the best run by Eshete so far this game. The difference is that he hit the line with purpose instead of trying to find the perfect running lane. He has to realize that there won’t be any today and play physically,” Tom said.

“Dawson is under center. He fakes the handoff and has their tight end, Nolan Hammer, wide open in the back of the end zone …” You could hear the groan of the crowd as Hammer dropped the pass.

“That one’s on Hammer. You have to catch those balls. That one was at eye level and with pinpoint accuracy. It looked like he had alligator arms. He has to know that ball is coming to him,” Tom said.

“What should they do now?”

“If I’m UNLV, I put a spy on Dawson. He’s been the only one to hurt them so far today.”

“USC is lined up in the shotgun. It looks like they’re going to throw the ball on third down. UNLV only has three down linemen and has brought in an extra defensive back. It seems like they’ve gone all-in to prevent the pass.

“Eshete goes in motion to empty the backfield, and the ball’s snapped. Dawson has no one to throw to because UNLV has all his receivers well covered. Dawson rolls right, still looking, and now he’s running for the corner. TOUCHDOWN, USC!” Jerry roared.

The crowd thundered their approval.

“You can have the perfect defensive calls, you can flush him from the pocket, but you’re not going to stop David Dawson. UNLV just doesn’t have an answer for that, and I would bet no one else will, either. Dawson is a special talent; he’s like a unicorn. What makes him so hard to handle is his size: he’s a big kid at six-four and 235 pounds. And he’s probably the fastest man on the field. It’s evident in the moves he makes and his bursts of speed. As you’ve seen, UNLV can’t tackle him one-on-one,” Tom gushed.

“What should UNLV do to counteract Dawson?”

“They have to manufacture turnovers, which will happen if these USC receivers keep dropping passes.”

◊◊◊

By the end of the first quarter, USC was up 14–10. Coming out of the commercial break, USC had the ball again.

“I might be going way back, but David Dawson reminds me of Vince Young. After the first quarter, he has 118 yards rushing and two touchdowns. He’s going to push to get some serious playing time. Can you believe that he was originally a walk-on defensive player?” Tom asked.

“It’s hard to imagine, but you’re right; he spent most of his time in practice on defense. In fact, I understand USC was bulking him up to play linebacker. Matt Long was named USC’s starting quarterback in the spring but had to sit out this game because he violated team rules. He could be watching David Dawson claim his job today,” Jerry said, then called the first play. “USC is in the ‘I’ formation, and it looks like it’s a run up the middle … wait … David Dawson has the ball as he rolls out on a naked bootleg. He has Bill Callaway open on the sideline, who makes the catch for a twelve-yard gain and a first down.”

“David Dawson has a good arm. In high school, he won just about every award possible and was considered the number one recruit when he graduated. The question has been the time he took off to film movies. Would that time off hurt his game? That pass tells me he’ll be just fine.”

“In the ‘I’; Marcus Eshete the tailback. And David Dawson is out on the edge, displaying what you were just talking about. There he goes, with a slick move for about eight, almost nine effortless yards.”

“Man. He makes you hold your breath, doesn’t he?” Tom asked.

“You heard what I said to interim head coach Jason Merritt yesterday. How do you recruit quarterbacks when you have Matt Long and David Dawson on your roster?”

“A quarterback that size who can run like a deer. I mean, that should be illegal.”

“Second and a yard. Eshete carries the ball up the middle for a first down. Now, what about these numbers for David Dawson? At Lincoln High School in central Illinois, he was a three-time state champion and set a national record for the most passing yards in a football game. And he was named the Gatorade Player of the Year his junior year. Plus, he was the co-MVP at Elite 11 that year, the first junior ever invited,” Jerry said.

“You imagine that kid in the huddle as a quarterback in high school. He’s a man amongst boys. I mean, everyone who played against David in high school said yeah, yeah, I played against that dude. He’s a legend. I mean, look at him. He walks up to that offensive line and stands tall over it. The kid is a beast.”

“First and ten, and it was supposed to be a quarterback draw up the middle. But Dawson shows his elusiveness by cutting outside and is run out of bounds with a stiff-arm to a smaller defensive back. There’s a flag down, which is probably going against him,” Jerry said.

“Boy, is he smooth, isn’t he? He made the six-yard gain look effortless. Jason Merritt is beside himself because he can’t believe they’re calling his quarterback for a stiff-arm, but that’s exactly what the referees are going to do.”

“Jason is saying that his guy is six-four, and he’s hitting their cornerback in the facemask because he’s only five-seven.”

“Boy, but what an athlete,” Tom said as they rolled the replay. “No! That is not a penalty. David Dawson can’t believe it. That’s ticky-tacky.”

“That’s just a bad call. First and twenty-five, and USC, now in an obvious passing situation, is in the shotgun. UNLV sneaks up a defensive back to blitz. On the snap, Dawson sees the blitz coming and curls around the right end. There he goes into the secondary, and it looks like he might get a first down. He doesn’t quit as he takes on two defenders to get the first down.” Jerry has to shout to be heard over the USC fan base.

“Do you think seventy-eight thousand fans love it? Just a little,” Tom observed. “Is he special or what? He is instant offense. Man, is Dawson quick,” Tom said and then added when they showed the replay, “Look at that change in direction. That isn’t some little jitterbug back; he’s a big, powerful boy. Then watch the end when he sticks his nose in there and blasts through those two defenders to pick up another three yards.”

That was a preview of A Better Man - Book 3. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «A Better Man - Book 3» to Cart