Chapter 11

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For the funeral, I wore a charcoal gray jacket, a black button-up and tie, and jeans. My mom had insisted on me dressing respectfully and I agreed to do it willingly as long as she left the details to me and didn't ask questions about my sunglasses. We also agreed to drive separately so I could go earlier. Of course, she asked if I'd been drinking last night or doing anything else she needed to worry about, and I said no, just that I had a headache that made me sensitive to light. She snorted at my response. Probably thought I had a hangover. I did, sort of.

I pulled into the funeral home parking lot and switched off the ignition, sat there for a few minutes. There were several vehicles I recognized, like Layla's, Blake's, and Lexa's. Even saw a few of the cars and trucks belonging to some of the football players... like Elijah's Toyota Forerunner, slick and tricked out with tinted windows and running boards. My gut told me to have a talk with him. Maybe he could shed some light on what I experienced last night? I was here to pay my respects, but I was also here to get answers.

As I got out of my truck, I spotted Layla and Blake entering the front entrance, so I slowed a step so as not to let them see me. I wanted to talk to Elijah first, if that was possible.

Inside, it seemed almost everyone had found the proper viewing room, except for a handful of students lingering in the lobby, ones I recognized but didn't know personally. The restroom was to my left, so I shot inside it to freshen up, straightening my tie and swiping a hand through my hair to keep my sandy bangs from hanging down in my face. I blew steam from my lips and removed my sunglasses, squinted at the glare from the interior lighting. It wasn't as harsh as it was outside; I'd be fine without them. My brow furrowed as I stared at my gray-blue eyes in the mirror, sensing a hard edge sliding over me as I began my search for answers. I had to make sense of what happened to me last night, or else I might go mad.

Prepared, I stepped out of the restroom to the doorway leading into the viewing room, where Austin Campbell's celebration of life visitation was taking place. I peeked around the edge and glimpsed Elijah coming my way, so I waited for him to reach me.

When he saw me, I nodded for him to follow me away from the viewing room. "We need to talk," I said, pointing toward an empty breakroom. When I walked inside, exterior light from a window blinded me and I put my sunglasses back on. He did the same. "What's wrong with me, man?" I couldn't keep the strain out of my voice as I leaned in closer to him. "Something happened last night after the game."

"Like what?" A sly grin spread across his face. "Tell me about it."

I wanted to reveal information in tidbits to make sure I wasn't leading him and to be as certain as possible that he was telling me the truth. I wanted to see what he knew, what he might let slip. "I went over to Layla Robinson's house after I left Pop's and..."

His grin widened. "I didn't know you were interested in her. Thought you were hung up on Lexa Thorn."

"That's not the point."

"Okay. What's got you so hot and bothered?"

"We were under her Trans Am and—"

His chin dropped. "One pill, one night of glory on the field, and you move fast."

"It wasn't like that, man." I shifted my weight to my other foot. "We were hanging out, talking, and then something happened."

"Like what?"

I told him about the car and how the floor-jack collapsed. How I caught it and saved Layla's life and mine. The entire story.

His mouth formed a smug, yet impressed, smile. "You had a supercharged adrenaline rush. That must have been what happened."

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