"Everybody in this room is talented. You've all been the best." The man at the front of the room says pointedly. "Everywhere you've been. The best."

Remaining in my position , I watch the man as he controls everyone's eyes while he walks back and forth at the front of the locker room. "Am I wrong?"

"No sir." The room says in unison.

"The most talented. The very best on your team. And everybody else knows it. In these walls?" The man named Tom gestures around us. "We all know who is the best. You can lie and put yourself above the team, but deep down you know. I know I do, and I've got six rings."

The room is silent before he continues. "That's not what got me those rings. That's not what's helped me drive down the field with less than a minute left, after some genetic freak makes maybe the best catch in Super Bowl history. On us. On me. I was sitting on the sidelines, looking at the video board like everybody else. And G turned to me and said "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

"I knew he'd put in the work. But that happened to me before. Twice!" He points to the ground. "It felt like the football gods had come down and said 'Tom, it's not happening. You've got four, that's enough. No one man can get five rings.' G said that to me. And you know what?"

…

"I didn't give a DAMN! You know why? Because I didn't fly all my receivers out to damn Idaho and put them up in cabins, buying everything for everyone. We put in the work in the spring and the summer. And we weren't going to be denied. Nobody, nobody was going to work harder than us. Every day, every hour, every route, every cut, every throw, every catch."

Okay.

"Everybody has a point that they hit in their head that they're like 'Okay, that's enough for today'. And they stop, they go in, they relax. Well I learned that if you want to be great, truly, really great? Legendary? The GOAT that everybody tells me that I am? That's not enough!"

"You can't stop when your mind is telling you 'Okay, that's enough'. Because there's a guy coming up behind you that isn't stopping. And let me tell you, he's quicker, faster, stronger. All us old heads, and the legends? You know how they like to go on TV and complain about how the guys nowadays aren't as tough as they were. They aren't as good, they aren't as good, as talented. Well that's wrong!"

You can hear a pin drop as the man continues pacing.

He's getting worked up. I can see why people look up to him so much.

My eyes flick over to Matt, who is sitting in his locker, half dressed, clearly listening to every word he's saying.

I've heard of this guy before. Matt and JJ have talked about him, as some animal. Sheep or goat or whatever. He's like Matt's idol.

"The kids coming up now, the guys that are going to get their names called next April? They're all better than I was when I came into the league. All of them!" he claps once. "Every single one of them, and nobody thinks they're going to surpass me. They don't see them as a threat to me. Well they are! They're bigger, faster, stronger than me. Everybody likes to joke about how I can't run—"

The tension in the room finally breaks in to laughter, and even the man himself breaks out into a smile. "I can't run! I look like I'm rocking cement shoes! I don't care, my own son the other day, was running around the backyard and making fun of how I run away from defenders. My own wife and daughter were laughing their asses off. Hell, I was too!"

More laughter rings out, but the man kills it as his face returns to a serious expression. "What everybody's missed, as they're over there laughing at me behind closed doors and on TV and in public and whatever, is tow work you don't see. And I'm not talking about practices, or film or any of that. All that's mandatory. Your coaches can tell you it's voluntary, that's bullshit. It's mandatory if you even want to have a chance of being as good as you can be."

Mandatory.

"Everybody in here knows where they were ranked coming out of high school. You're at a prestigious, Power 5 University with expectations every single year. You won the damn Rose Bowl running away. You beat their ass, you think those guys are sitting around, happy they lost?!"

"No." The room replies unanimously.

"NO!" He screams back. "They're in the gym, on the field, with that score posted everywhere. Clips of that game before every meeting, every position group. And if you play those guys again? You'd bet watch out because they're coming for your neck. This round was just for fun, and you won. Next time? You embarrassed them on national TV."

"It doesn't matter what you did in the past. It doesn't matter what you did five minutes ago if you really want to live up to who you possibly could be. Those ranking and what everybody out there—" he points towards the door. "—is saying? Doesn't matter! You want to be great?"

"Show up early! Earlier than everyone! Your max rep from yesterday in the gym? Do it again. And again and again and again. Then max out again. Five more, ten more pounds. Be better. It's a mentality! You've got to make a choice! What's important to you?!"

…

"What's really important to you? What matters to you?! Are you here to play? Are you here to play games? Are you going to let the guy next to you outwork you? Or are you going to outwork him? You have to wake up every day and think 'Nobody will work harder than me today'. Nobody!"

"Let me tell you guys a story…" he stops, then sips a bottle of water. "A couple of years after my third championship…after I lost. And I was pissed, oh was I pissed. I hate losing, nothing makes me madder than losing. The lightbulb went off for me. And I went to my wife and said 'honey, I want to do it, I want to try. I want to try and be the greatest of all time.' And she nodded and said yes and supported me. But I had to stop her. Because y'all know how good Peyton was. He beat my ass and I still won. The team won, I didn't. I told her: 'Honey, I'm going to have to make some hard sacrifices. With you, with our kids, with our family. But I want to be great.' I don't think she understood then but she does now. Because I wake up at 5 AM every day. I watch everything I eat, I pay a personal chef to cook every meal for me. My family too, but it's for me. I go work out, I put the time in at the field that I need to, I try and be a good father, and then the day is done. My kids are in bed, things are winding down, my wife cues up Netflix or is on the phone with her Mom or whatever…and I go back to work."

Nothing stops him.

"I go grab a shake and get another lift in. I text Robbie and get some more throws in, working on something that we messed up earlier. We're not perfect, I'm not. I'm sure as hell not perfect. I watch film, see what they're doing down here in the college game. That crazy ass ending to your game this fall when Matt flipped into the end zone?!"

Oh.

"I know what play you ran! Stick with slide protection to buy time and a sluggo on the back end. Protection went to hell and everybody had to improvise. All eleven guys had to step up and make a play. And you did! You know why? The play sucked!"

The room straightens up, as they're clearly confused. "It's a terrible call in that spot, but everybody forgets that because of the end result! You can't run slide when the ball's supposed to get out fast, and the slide doesn't give you time for the sluggo deep to materialize! You're dead, the play's fucked! But your eleven beat their eleven and your guy makes a crazy play. Sounds familiar?"

He's bringing it back around.

"You cannot let anything get in your way if you truly want to be great. Anybody can go on TV, or stand up here in front of you and talk a big game. That isn't the point that matters! What matters is after the lights turn off, when nobody's watching."

"You cannot allow anything to get in your way. You may be tired, your alarm might go off and you want to go back to sleep. You have to get up and clock in. You have to go to work. Because if you don't? Those kids that are coming for you, your enemies? They're putting in that work. They're outworking you. Are you going to let them outwork you? Or are you going to do justice to your talent and put in the requisite work to get everything out of yourself?"

The man steps back and turns to his right, where the coach is sitting on a stool, listening. "That's all I got guys. Don't let anybody else outwork you, let nothing get in your way. Thanks for having me."

All around me, guys pop to their feet and start applauding before I peer over at Matt and watch him slowly get to his feet.

He heard him.

I'd better get going. Matt snuck me in here to hear him talk, and now we've got to go practice.

Silently, I slip out the door and start out towards the practice fields, stopping only to grab a bag of footballs for Matt and Trey and a couple of the walk-ons to throw before stepping out into the sunshine and lower my sunglasses onto my face.

"Twos."

I hear Twos activate lightly before Twos replies "Hello Ezra."

"You recorded that right?"

"I did." She confirms. "Would you like me to save it to your private server?"

Yeah.

"Yes. And while you're at it, can you email Dooku and ask him if he's willing to work with me on Thursday?"

Before my lesson.

"On it Ezra."

'Thanks Twos." I say, then tap my glasses to dismiss Twos.

'What matters to you?'

What matters is me becoming the best Jedi I can be.

That's the whole reason the Jedi took me in, besides taking me off the board and preventing me from hurting anyone else.

...

There's an argument to be made that I'm coasting on my natural gifts and talents.

Yeah, I am relatively faithful in the weight room. But meditating?

No.

Lightsaber training?

No.

I don't study tactics as much as I should. I go off what Dad taught me as a child.

It works now. But I can recognize that the day it doesn't is the day I'll regret it.

I've got a lot of invaluable resources at my disposal. I need to use them.

I need to be better at maintaining my fitness. Continue working out, getting stronger but not losing flexibility.

I need to practice more with my lightsaber and continue honing my Force abilities.

I'm not the most talented Force user in the Order. That distinction belongs to Master Skywalker.

I already knew that before I went to Kamino.

But it didn't get through my head.

Stepping out onto the immaculately maintained grass, I probe out and sense three of the other quarterbacks behind me.

Okay Ezra, do your job.

I set the bag down, then flip two footballs to Tate and one of the walk-ons, and they start pacing out their normal warm up routine, with me in place of Matt.

Wherever he is. Maybe he got pulled aside.

I flip the ball to my designated partner, stalling for Matt before it gets whizzed back at me and I catch it easily.

And back.

Practice here reminds me of when I first got to the Temple and was allowed a small amount of freedom of movement. The Council wanted to test my discipline and what I'd put up with. So they started ordering in food and drinks, like they sometimes do during some of their longer strategy sessions, and call me to go pick it up.

Go do this, go pick up that…

Very servile stuff. But they were trying to teach me to fill a role. Which I did without complaint.

I wanted to complain. I hated it, but I did it.

…

And here I am. In the exact same spot.

Tossing the ball back once again, I probe out and detect Matt as he approaches the rest of the group. "You're late…" Tate proclaims.

Oh shut your mouth.

"Grabbed my play sheet." Matt justifies himself in advance of getting the ball whizzed at me and I catch it with ease. I flip it to Matt, already wearing his helmet, visor already inside and his play sheet on his wrist.

Matt's first throw is a laser, only for it to bounce off his partner's hands.

Yup. He's on today.

The two of them make a few throws, all of which are perfect from Matt and three of them get dropped before I quip "It would help if you caught it…"

Matt chuckles as his partner takes a few steps back. "Wouldn't hurt. How'd class go?"

"Eh." I answer dismissively. "Boring. You?"

Foster continues losing me in History of Mandalore.

"Alright I guess." Matt frowns before uncorking another pass. "You see Sabine today?"

"No, she slept in her dorm last night."

But I bet you already knew that.

"Yeah, I saw her on the way to breakfast this morning. You guys doing okay?" He asks.

"Fine." I reply simply. "Should we not be?"

Matt's whole face seems to pucker before he catches another pass. "No, I mean I don't know. I, uhm, I couldn't really hold up my end of the bargain in Mexico."

In an effort to loosen him up, I smirk. "Yeah, Sabine said you took my advice."

"Yeah." He cracks, giving me a laugh. "I, uhm…I had some fun. What'd she say?"

"Just that you seemed to meet a lot of female friends."

Matt whips another throw at his partner, only for it to hit his hands and carom off to the side. "I did. She did too, but not…nothing you should be worried about I don't think."

You don't think.

I release a Force probe before replying "You don't think?"

"Well…I met Ryan."

"Sabine's friend from January?"

Matt nods to confirm before his face betrays his anxiety.

I think he feels bad for me.

"Yeah, they went off to see Chichén Itzá together on I think…Monday? Tuesday? I don't know. I didn't even know he was on the trip until the first or second night he approached us on the beach and Jaicey said his name."

"I didn't look at my phone much last week. I must have missed that." I comment.

Sabine told me the truth though. She didn't hook up with him. She didn't get with anybody while she's down there.

"They spent some time together the rest of the week. I did notice that. But I don't think anything happened."

I groan as Matt catches another pass. "Sabine's not my girlfriend dude. She's allowed to have guy friends."

"But you know she hooked up with that guy."

"Sabine told me nothing happened. And I believe her."

Matt throws a high ball, forcing his partner to take off at a dead sprint before turning to me. "How'd you get her to do that?"

"She flew in early and we had dinner. I might have bribed her with wine into talking." I spin a story.

"Smart, smart…loose lips sink ships."

"It's not a ship." I counter.

"You guys are a ship. JJ and Jaicey, you and Sabine—"

"Matt and pick a model." I needle him.

The next pass hits Matt in the hands, only for him to fumble it and swear audibly. I laugh, only for the ball to get flung at me. "Throw it."

Fine.

I take a step, then throw the ball about thirty yards or so to his partner, who catches it. "Whoa now."

"I've thrown a football." I lie.

It's a ball. You throw it. It's not hard. I've seen proper form from watching Matt.

From there it's easy.

"Still though, that was nice man."

"Thanks." I smile before the ball comes back and Matt catches it.

"Really though, I'm sorry about not watching over Sabine. I—"

"It's fine." I cut Matt's needless apology off. "She's allowed to have guy friends. I don't want to be the only person she talks to in her life."

That's not normal. And despite the fact that I'm not normal, I don't want to inflict that on her by domineering over her life by dictating that she can't be friends with another guy.

"But a guy that's gotten with her though?"

"She doesn't want that right now. I know that." I tell him. "And when she does I feel like I'm in decent shape."

I'm in great shape. I'm the only contender.

"Alright Ezra…" Matt's voices changes to one of almost pride before he barely grunts and unleashes a missile down the field.

"Nice ball!" I hear behind us, causing us to turn.

It's him.

I feel Matt freeze up beside me before the Force rattles with a warning.

Break the ice.

"You need anything? He's almost warmed up."

The man nods while striding over to us. "Yeah, another water'd be great. Thanks man."

He sounds East Coast. And he's taller than I am.

"I'll be right back." I give the man a smile, then duck out of the way to let them talk.

Gotta do the not so fun parts of my job too…

(10:45 PM Wednesday Night)

"—really was cool. He sort of dictated practice, what he wanted to do and all of that." Matt tells JJ with a twinkle in his eye.

"I can't believe you met the GOAT."

Matt ducks his head at JJ's comment. "He's being modest." I turn to JJ. "The guy loved Matt. All the others were trying to get his attention. Nope, he had thoughts after every play for him."

I know the guy wasn't trying to play favorites, but he did.

"Did they kiss afterward?" Jaicey teases Matt, who noticeably goes red before sipping his mixed drink.

"I didn't see anything like that. They did walk back to the locker room at the end together, Tom giving Matt advice or something with his hand around his shoulder."

Jaicey immediately mimics the move, looping her arms around JJ's shoulder. JJ beams at the move before Jaicey asks "Something like this?"

"He was talking about the importance of ball placement and accuracy." Matt explains, looking embarrassed.

"Why do you look embarrassed?" Sabine asks beside me. "You love him! Now you've met him and talked to him and taken pictures with him and you're embarrassed by it?"

"I—" Matt starts, then cuts himself off. "It's all nerdy football stuff. I…He didn't treat me like a kid. He treated me like a peer, an equal."

"Because he sees you as one." I point out.

He watched his film. Maybe he saw something.

"I'm nobody right now."

I probe out and detect Matt's intense discomfort as well as Sabine's continued discomfort. Disguising the move by sipping my drink tonight, a 'hard' lemonade.

Whatever that is.

"—never easy meeting your idols." Sabine smiles at Matt.

Jaicey asks "How would you know?"

Because they never end up meeting your expectations.

Sabine and Jaicey fall into a new discussion as I probe out, then peer around again.

Sabine's acting…off.

Like she was the night she finally told me about Brett.

Stiff, methodical and robotic. Hovering over me, keeps on giving me these drinks.

At first I thought she was just trying to get me drunk. Which okay I guess…

But then I made the connection. How she hasn't left my side, like I'm her anchor.

I release another wave of reassurance to her through the Force as she and Matt are now talking. This time I disguise it by flipping my phone out of my pocket and—

Cayle – 6 New iMessages

Uh oh.

The Force provides a twang of warning as I scan the texts.

"Hey, check your phone."

"Incoming. You have incoming."

"It's my fault, I didn't know it was this week. Stick by Sabine. I'm on my way to cut him off—"

Oh.

She must know that Northwestern's Spring Break is this week and is worried about it.

Unsticking my eyes from my phone screen, I glance out at the party going crowd and scan for familiar faces.

I've read his file. 5'9, 150. Scrawny, lean if you want to be generous. He's a brain more than he's brawn.

Spontaneously the Force vibrates with another warning, spinning me into action.

"Keep her here." I grab JJ by the shoulder and hiss into his ear.

"I—" JJ makes a face before sputtering "Okay."

"What's—?" Jaicey starts, looking lost.

"I'm going to get another drink inside." I answer instinctively then turn to Sabine and smile.

Stay. Here.

"I'll grab you one too. Be right back."

Before Sabine or anybody else can respond, I start off towards the house.

It makes little logical sense that he could possibly find the party we're at…but who says we're following logic?

Every time I've popped into a party I wasn't invited to, I start through the house to get a handle on things, then go from there.

He had a normal high school experience at that Benet Prep Academy. He has probably gone to a hundred house parties like this.

A group of friends are making their way through the sliding door as I arrive and slip through before—

The Force rings true as I lay my eyes on the prize. "Hey Brett!"

Gotcha.

"Hey man." I slide past the beer pong table and approach him as he's coolly handling a beer and looking completely normal.

Brett gives me a funny look. "Do I know you? I—hey—"

"Let's go for a walk outside…" I recommend to him while pushing him through the crowded house, towards the side exit.

This is the same house the Christmas Party was at. I know the tree is isolated enough.

Cayle better be on his way though. I don't think he's going to take no for an answer without some convincing.

"I don't think I know you—" Brett sputters out as I keep ushering him through the house, now in a side bedroom. "Can you stop—"

There's the door.

"No, we're going outside." I reply pleasantly.

I feel Brett snap before he tries turning around "I'm not doing anything—"

"Yeah, you are, you've had too much to drink…" I lie as I push him through the door, ignoring the pair of eyes on us.

"I just got here and haven't had more than two sips of—" Brett stops when he fully sees my face. "I recognize you."

"I recognize you too." I repeat back to him. "Why are you here?"

"No, I—you were on Sabine's Instagram—"

She blocked you on all her socials.

Finally I push him back to the tree and let him go, against my better instincts. "Sabine? I thought she blocked you on all her social media accounts. How'd you slip by?"

Dummy accounts.

"You made burners, huh?" I answer my own question thanks to the Mind Probe.

I'll have to have Twos search those out and block those too.

"How do you know Sabine? Where is she? Is she okay?"

"She's a lot better now that she hasn't been thinking of you all the time." I deadpan. "I'll cut to the chase: I'm her b—"

HEADS UP!

A sudden punch gets whizzed at my head, and I slip it to the left before giving him an incredulous look. "You wanna fight?"

Bad idea buddy.

"If you're Sabine's new boyfriend, you should know she's Mandalorian. Like me." Brett spits out at me, moving into a fighting stance.

Oh what and you're going to fight me and get to her?

"Hey!" I hear a familiar voice behind me before—

Brett unleashes a spinning kick that I block with both hands before he lands nimbly in a three point stance. "—HEY!"

Jaicey.

Brett doesn't listen for an instant before firing off a punch with his right that I reach across and block with my left. He responds with a jab with his left that I block with my right before disengaging with him.

"I don't really want to—"

Brett cuts me off with a roar before firing off a rapid fire sequence of punches, up and down, left and right that I either, block, duck underneath or sip before he tries another spinning kick—

NO! That shit's for the movies!

Catching him with his foot over his head, I lift him up off the ground fully and heave him away.

"AHH!" He screams in fright before tumbling heavily to the ground and partially colliding with the tree before somebody new—

Cayle.

Cayle steps over him and puts his foot in his chest before turning back to me. "Did you have to throw him?"

"You didn't see what he tried before?"

"What?" Cayle laughs. "his flailing? I—uh oh." He mutters, peering behind me.

I turn back, only to see Jaicey, whose eyes are wide and staring at the scene. "Hey, we're good here. Go back to—"

"Is that Brett?" Jaicey cuts me off, pulling her eyes off Brett long enough to look at me.

How'd you—

"You know him?" Cayle asks for me as Brett moves to sit next to the tree.

I probe out and confirm Cayle's suspicions.

She does? How?

"She slipped about a month ago, mentioned him." Jaicey nods towards Brett. "They were engaged?"

"Yeah…" I confirm with a nod before Jaicey rushes towards him.

"Why the hell are you here then? What the hell are you doing?!"

Brett starts to give some kind of an explanation before the Force rattles again.

With terror, heartbreak, and anguish.

"—she's been a mess the whole time she's been here because of you!" Jaicey rages as Cayle pivots from holding Brett down to separating Jaicey from Brett. "She nearly got kicked out of school and off the team because of you!"

Jaicey runs straight into Cayle's outstretched hand and tries shedding him off her before Cayle says "Hey hey hey!"

"You shouldn't be here!" Jaicey rages at him. "No way! She's trying to move on, and from what I heard for good reason! Let her you asshole! You shouldn't even be here!"

She's right, he shouldn't be here.

He doesn't look like he belongs either. Teal blue collared shirt, jeans and preppy shoes.

Everybody here at the party is in casual clothes.

He's a try hard.

"You don't know me!" Brett bites off at her. "Or what happened! I just want to talk to Sabine—"

"That's not happening." Cayle shuts that idea down fast as I probe for more information.

He—

"—how do you even know who he is again?"

"I'm her captain. I'm the leader of the team, and she trusts me. I've been trying to get them—" Jaicey points to me. "—together and didn't understand why, for either of them before she finally slipped up and mentioned him!"

Jaicey gestures forcefully at Brett, who has picked himself halfway up the tree but has left his façade on the ground.

His heart is still broken.

He followed it here…

"I thought you—" Brett begins speaking while looking at me.

"No." I shake my head.

She's a mess because of you.

"You don't understand." He takes a couple of steps towards me, looking manic. "I…I don't want to hurt her. It's cool if you guys are cool, really, it is. But I never got to talk to her, to explain—"

Anything.

Sabine left him to drown inside of his own head.

"That won't help you dude." I answer instinctively. "She—"

"No, you don't understand." He tries to explain it to me. "I flew all the way out here, looked through party after party to try and find her just so I could talk to her and—"

"She doesn't want to talk to you." I say gently.

Brett hotly counters "But she never gave me an answer!"

"Then that's your answer." I respond, then gently smile at him.

Talk him down Ezra…He's broken.

He's not a problem…Sabine just left him broken.

"No response is a response Brett. Maybe the most powerful one she could give you. I know it doesn't seem like it from your point of view—"

"My messages just began bouncing back to me! One after another after another!"

"But…you need to respect that. She broke up with you last May, at graduation. I know the story." Brett freezes right up, leaning against the tree. "She told me after Christmas, after I bought her dinner. And she bawled her eyes out while telling me. She didn't want to tell me, but she did anyway."

…

"It's hurt her just as much as its hurt you man. I can see it." I say as gently as I can then crouch down and put my hand on his knee.

It's going to be okay.

"I think I know what you want to do. Because maybe if you can just explain that you only meant well, she'll say okay and take you back…that's not going to happen."

Brett swallows a lump in his throat before I continue. "This isn't a movie or a fairy tale. You can't come in on a white horse, sweep her off her feet and take her home. You're done, it's…it's over."

It is.

"I'm sorry man, I really am." I give him another smile. "I can see just by looking at you, that it's been tearing you apart for months now. You love her, you really do. But if you do love her that much, you need to love her enough to let her go."

The Force lurches with his terror and I cut him off before he can even begin to counter me. "I know it's not fair. And I know you guys talked at Christmas, and maybe everything seemed fine. She can do that, I know. But you've done enough for the both of you. You've put too much into her just to get this little in return."

"Don't make things even worse for her and cause her more pain, I know you don't mean to—" I quickly say, as Brett lurches at the suggestion. "—but you are…she's been in pain almost the entire time she's been here. When I met her she was compensating with drinking enough for all of us and hooking up with people. Which now I know isn't her."

It's not.

"I—" His jaw wiggles before I continue.

"Maybe you've done the same, I don't know. But you've tricked yourself into flying all the way out here to LA for a fraction of a chance…it's a delusion man."

It is.

"You deserve better than that. You deserve better than a bunch of miserable months leading up to this moment, only for it to fail. That's not fair for you, I know. But don't make her beg to break up with you. Don't do that to her…You've got to let her go."

You've got to let her go Brett.

Brett looks to be on the verge of tears before I give him a reassuring smile. "Now…let my friend here take you back to your hotel. Okay? And early tomorrow morning we'll get you on a flight back home. The best thing that you can do right now is to give yourself physical space between you and her. Stop looking at those burners, delete them."

"From what she said you're a really smart guy Brett. She thinks a lot of you. Go prove her right by burying yourself in your work and becoming the best you that you can be. Maybe show her that she made a mistake that way. but by then it'll be too late because you'll be over her. And you'll be gone instead of this, where you're here and she's gone. Left you holding the bag and everything. Okay?"

…

Poor guy. He's tortured himself for ten months…

All for a girl who doesn't love him anymore.

Cayle helps Brett to his feet as I pull my credit card out of my wallet then extend it to Cayle. "That'll cover the ticket home."

"You sure?" Cayle gives me a dubious look.

Brett sniffles loudly and avoids my eye, prompting me to subtly turn away from him. "He can yell at me later if he wants to."

He needs some privacy and some time alone.

"C'mon buddy…let's get you home." I vaguely hear Cayle say to Brett while pulling him close like he's done to me many a time before.

Thank you Cayle…

I owe him big time.

Watching the two of them start back to the row of parked cars, I let out a heavy sigh and turn back to Jaicey, who is also looking on.

Forlorn.

"He…I pictured somebody completely different." Jaicey mutters quietly. "Somebody like you…"

Yeah, somebody to match her physically, since she's so physical.

Instead Brett was a averaged sized, bookworm looking dude.

"Poor guy." I say to myself.

The instant I connected with him, all I could feel was his shattered heart.

Sabine broke him and left him on the ground.

And walked away.

"So did you have that all written down?" Jaicey turns to me, expressing turning to curiosity. "Or did all that come off the top of your head?"