I elbow him in the ribs and he smirks. Alan chuckles next to me.
“Something tells me it’s a bit more than that,” he says, turning to face me. “Listen, Carter, I’m not gonna tell you what you should do. But I wish someone had been around when I was in your place, someone who’d been in the same predicament, so if you want some advice, I’ll give it to you.”
Right about now, I’m dying for someone to tell me what to do, to make the decision for me. I look at him and say, “Dude, I’m all ears.”
“Get a college education.” He says it straight out, shocking the shit out of me. “Get your experience that way, and skip out on the low A and Rookie Ball crap. No one prepares you for that, man. The long bus rides to small towns, the bad food, and shittier fields. The completely empty stands. Some people get lucky. They draft high and advance quick, but for many, that’s simply not reality.”
Carlos leans forward. “What if he gets hurt, though? What if he blows his knee out in college and tanks his career.”
“It’s a risk you run, getting injured and missing your shot in the draft,” Alan admits. “But it doesn’t mean you’ll never play professional ball. You’ll heal up and earn your shot another way. Better to blow your knee in college, and have that education to fall back on, than out on a crap field with no one watching.”
Carlos and I exchange a look. I know what he’s thinking. He’s headed to A&M, the same place Peyton is, and the same place I already signed my letter of intent. He’d love it if I stayed in state, and I admit, the pull to play more with my best friend is huge.
“For me,” Alan says, “I was drafted high and the bonus money was life changing. My family needed that money, and it was impossible to say no. But if money’s not an issue for you, and you can play ball either way, you’re in a totally different position. The love of the game comes with either option, man, so it boils down to one question.”
I can’t help but smirk at the theatrics. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
“What are you chasing?”
What are you chasing?
The question rattles in my head. It shakes loose memories and thoughts I didn’t even remember having. What am I chasing? I glance back at the crowd and lock eyes with my dad.
I can answer that.
PEYTON
ROUND ROCK EXHIBITION 4:15 P.M.
“Welcome to the Round Rock Kickoff to Summer Rodeo!”
The announcer’s voice is tinny as it cracks over the loud speaker, but the crowd goes berserk regardless. The energy ripples through me, bringing chills in its wake, and I beam so wide my face hurts.
“I’m proud of you, CC.” Cade squeezes my left hand, Faith does the same to my right, and together, we take in the insanity unfolding around us.
“I have to go check in for my event,” he says, “but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Faith knows to record your ride if I miss it, or I’ll eat all the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in the doghouse kitchen.”
Faith extends a pink, sparkly fingernail. “You wouldn’t dare. You mess with a girl’s candy, you mess with the girl. And duh, of course I’m recording it. My bestie is a real life cowgirl. I have an entire vlog dedicated to rodeo fashion and terminology.”
“Dear God, your poor viewers,” I tease, winking at Cade. “Don’t you worry about me, just go kick some saddle bronc ass.”
My exhibition ride is part of the opening kickoff, but the day is jam-packed with other events, too. While we were dating, Cade put his own rodeo career on hold, only doing the occasional local event even though he loved it as much as I did. I never asked him to give it up—he decided to step back on his own, saying he knew how hard it was for me to be around this world. And I let him. It only goes to show how much better we truly are as friends than a couple. He deserves to be out here, chasing his dreams, so it makes me happy to see him getting back in the saddle. Like, literally.
Grinning at my cheesy pun, I release Faith’s hand so I can throw both arms around Cade. It’s only awkward for a second before he closes his arms around me and hugs me tight.
“Good luck, Donovan.”
“Same to you, Williams.”
We’re both smiling when we step back and say goodbye, still us even if we’re not together. Our friendship was always the best part of us anyway, and if we lost that, I’d be devastated.
Faith and I stand around, checking out the potential competition, when a tall brunette with a clipboard walks up to us. “Peyton Williams?”
My heart jolts but I somehow manage to find my voice. “Yup. That’s me.”
“Time to come on back and get ready.” The woman smiles kindly and winks in a motherly sort of way, then heads off to find her next rider. I turn to Faith, already in the midst of a mini-freak out.