Rules Of The Game: Book 1

Epilogue

Griffin POV
4 Months Later
April, All-State Press Conference

Cameras flash, and the crowd of reporters murmur as they watch my cousin and dad walk up to the front table.

There are over one hundred pairs of eyes watching the two of them; between scouts, press, head-of-college-athletic departments, and college football coaches from around the country. Those two are the stars of this show tonight.

Maybe I should be angry that I'm not up there with them to flex my talent, but frankly, I'm not. Something tells me that this press conference is going to get dramatic enough without my input up there.

Football is my dad's dream anyway, not mine.

I watch Parker and dad follow a security officer around and down the table. They get seated in front of official-looking plaques, reading, Parker Graham - Hall of Fame, San Fran. QB.

And in fine print under it, Greyson Miller - Head Coach.

Dad will be pissed that the engraver didn't include his many years of playing for the NFL.

The event coordinator steps up to the podium at the table's far side as the last few high schoolers and their coaches sit down. I wince as the man taps the microphone, and interference crackles over the speakers. Immediately, the room goes quiet.

"Thank you, and welcome to this year's Las Vegas All-State conference!" The grey-haired man says happily and smiles as the crowd applauds. As if we all forgot where we were. We've been stuck inside this building all day, listening to old croons go on and on about their glory days and the honor that we boys should be feeling even to be here in their presence.

Bunch of bullshit. I cross my arms, my face stuck in a permanent scowl.

"We are all very excited to host some of the best high school talents we've seen in several decades, all under one roof," the man continues. "College football is approaching fast for these young men, so it's crucial that we start them off on the right foot towards a bright future. Our hope for this event is to get these boys recognized further, and hopefully, by the end of the weekend, they will all walk away with more college offers. Let's start our questionnaire with Jones, on the end."

I chew my cheek as the press and reporters surge forward in their seats, clamoring for Edward Jones attention to get their burning questions answered.

Parker looks even less enthused than I do if that's even possible. I can't say that I'm surprised. He has been a shadow of himself ever since Miles left.

Not even a shadow covers it. He's a whole new person.

He's the only one up at that table that doesn't look absolutely beside themselves with happiness.

Parker's eyes are dark, staring down at the tablecloth with no emotion. He lost all of his definition and muscle mass over the winter, so now he's thin and scraggly compared to the machines lined up and down the table beside him. Hell, there was even one time only a month ago where my aunt Quinn called me crying because Parker hadn't eaten anything for days, and he finally blacked out.

Dramatic ass.

Miles moved away, he didn't fucking kill himself, so I don't understand why Parker has been trying too.