Andrew returned home and parked the Camaro in the garage. The rain was still falling, but without strength now, ust an echo of the earlier storm.
His emotional state was hard to describe.
On one hand, he felt a strange calm, a quiet satisfaction at having been able to close the chapter with Pippa the right way.
Talking without resentment, without pride. Different from that afternoon at the café.
But on the other hand, something weighed on his chest. Seeing her again, searching together through the storm, laughing while they bathed Barney, all of it brought a wave of nostalgia.
And for a moment, it made him doubt whether he had been right to end things, if maybe he'd been too blunt or too quick in that moment.
But he pushed those thoughts away almost immediately, back then he had made that decision after thinking it through carefully, not impulsively.
He didn't regret it. Right, wrong, or somewhere in between, it had been his decision.
And he had to live with it.
Andrew let himself fall onto the living room couch, not so much from physical tiredness as from mental exhaustion. Everything had happened too fast for a Sunday.
He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling her laugh when Barney soaked them both in the bathtub.
In those fifteen minutes they spent washing the dog, he realized he'd had a lighter, more natural conversation with her than in any recent talk with Madison.
'I guess after your first relationship, it's not so easy to find someone you connect with like that,' Andrew thought, sighing.
He shifted on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He no longer felt like playing, or doing anything, really. Just resting. He closed his eyes and took a nap.
He managed to sleep for almost thirty minutes until the noise of voices and the sound of the lock turning woke him up.
The door opened and Cam and Mitch came in wearing raincoats and carrying umbrellas. Lily was fast asleep in Mitch's arms, her head resting on his shoulder, thumb still in her mouth.
"We're home!" Cam sing-songed, and when he reached the living room he stopped dead upon seeing Andrew sprawled on the couch, looking like he'd woken up seconds ago.
"What is it, Dad?" Andrew asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up lazily.
"You… were taking a nap?" Cam said, pointing at him dramatically.
Andrew looked at him, confused. "Yeah… what's the problem?"
Cam didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned toward the hallway and shouted, "Mitchell! Andrew was taking a nap!"
Mitch appeared seconds later, now without Lily, one eyebrow raised.
He looked at his son, relaxed posture, slightly messy hair, sleepy eyes.
"Whoa… never thought I'd see the day," he said with a half-smile. "What happened?"
"Why would something have happened?" Andrew said, frowning slightly. "Is it really that weird that I took a nap on a rainy Sunday?"
Cam plopped down beside Andrew, studying him with curiosity.
"Yes, sweetheart, because you never take naps. You have your sleep calculated down to the millisecond and you always say that naps, while they can be beneficial, in your case 'trap you in an unproductive limbo of grogginess,' remember?"
Andrew ended up smiling a little. "That's true…"
He sighed and, after a brief silence, told them everything that had happened with Pippa from the beginning. They listened quietly, immediately understanding what it had meant.
When he finished, Cam placed a hand on his knee with a gentle smile.
"Sweetie, you should be proud. You were able to end a relationship that meant a lot to you on a positive note. Not everyone can say that."
Mitch nodded, his tone calmer, "And don't get stuck on the 'what ifs.' That's only going to drain you. You did what felt right at the time, and today you gave yourself the chance to end things well."
Andrew looked at both of them, more relieved than he expected, "Thanks," he murmured, giving a small smile.
"You're welcome," Mitch said with a soft smile, giving his shoulder a light pat as he stood up.
But Cam shifted the topic, "And what about that girl, Madison? You two have been seeing each other and you went on a date recently. There's something there… isn't there?"
Cam thought it was the perfect moment to learn a bit more about his son's romantic life. It's not that Andrew hid things, but he wasn't exactly the type to broadcast his emotions.
Cam knew Andrew had been getting to know Madison for a few weeks now.
Mitch looked at Cam, trying to tell him with his eyes that this wasn't the moment to bring it up.
But Andrew didn't get upset. He sighed, shaking his head.
"Not great," he admitted honestly.
"Not great? Did you two have a fight or something?" Cam asked.
"No, nothing like that. But we're not really connecting. Conversations feel forced. I thought maybe she'd be interested in football since she's a cheerleader, but at the UCLA game she didn't pay even the slightest attention," Andrew replied.
It wasn't that he required Madison to know about football, Pippa had never been an expert and they still connected.
Cam slowly shook his head.
"That's too bad… It's hard to find someone you truly connect with," he said softly, placing his hand on Andrew's knee again.
Andrew nodded, not dramatically, just calmly. He didn't expect to find a connection like the one he had with Pippa so soon.
Mitch crossed his arms, watching him, "And what are you going to do?"
"I guess there's no point pretending I'm interested if there's no connection. I don't want to give her false hope," Andrew answered.
It was better to end things with Madison before she started thinking he was ready to move past casual dates and into something more serious. But considering they hadn't even been talking for a full month, it shouldn't be much of a problem… right?
Cam gave him a warm smile, "That's the right thing to do, sweetheart. Being honest is always better than letting someone build hopes over something that isn't there."
Mitch nodded in agreement.
"Oh, right! Did you see it!?" Cam asked, abruptly changing the subject again.
"How would he have seen it?" Mitchell said, shaking his head. "He spent the afternoon searching for a dog in a huge park and then took a nap."
"What thing?" Andrew asked, curious.
"Jimmy Clausen talked about you…" Cam said seriously. "Well, more like he was asked about you in a post-game interview."
Andrew raised an eyebrow, "I'm guessing it was about his record that's about to be broken, right?"
Cam and Mitch nodded almost at the same time.
At the moment, Jimmy Clausen was playing in the NFL with the Carolina Panthers.
It was his rookie year, after being selected in the second round of this year's Draft back in April, with pick number 48.
But things were not going well. Actually, they were going terribly.
His arrival to the league had been surrounded by massive hype: during his college years at Notre Dame, analysts projected him as a future Heisman Trophy winner, the highest individual award in college football.
Clausen himself had even publicly stated he would win a Heisman during his commitment press conference with Notre Dame in December 2006, when he announced he would be playing there.
Spoiler alert: he didn't.
Many people said he'd be a top-10 pick, a franchise quarterback destined to change the fate of whichever team selected him.
However, his college career never lived up to expectations. It was good, yes, but not legendary. He never won major titles, nor did he reach the numbers that justified all the hype.
And to make things worse, his arrogance in the pre-Draft interviews, especially the one where he indirectly blamed his team for Notre Dame's losses, ended up sinking his image.
He went from being considered a prodigy to someone many teams preferred to avoid.
Being drafted in the second round instead of the first was a harsh blow: less money, less prestige, and a direct hit to his ego.
Carolina took a gamble on him, but up to this point, that gamble looked like a mistake. The last Andrew had checked, the team had a 1–6 record, the worst in the entire NFL.
Clausen had started in a few games, but his performance was poor:
-47% completion percentage
-3 touchdowns
-9 interceptions
-Quarterback rating: 58.4
A disaster.
Andrew, who followed the NFL closely, already knew about his situation and reputation: arrogant, lacking self-criticism, and incapable of taking responsibility.
Today, Sunday, Carolina played their eighth game, Week 8 of the NFL.
"I'm guessing it's not going to be a compliment about me," Andrew said with irony, leaning back on the sofa.
Everything pointed to Jimmy having said nothing good. Considering his massive ego and the fact that his professional career was off to a complete disaster, if a reporter mentioned that his legendary high-school record, probably the best phase of his life, the one that made him famous and where he truly dominated, was about to be broken…
Knowing Clausen, he couldn't have taken it well. He likely responded with some snide remark, true to his style.
Cam nodded with a mix of pity and mockery. "The Carolina Panthers played today against the New Orleans Saints. They lost 34–3, and that puts them at 1–7. Still the worst record in the league."
'Predictable…' Andrew thought.
"His career hasn't even started and it already looks like it's in free-fall," Mitchell said, shaking his head.
"And to think that guy was the picture of perfection when I was twelve. The golden boy of football," Andrew said.
"Well, sweetheart, it looks like you're the golden boy now," Cam said with a smile.
"Yeah, but the difference is that I actually am better than he is," Andrew replied calmly, without arrogance, stating it more as a fact than an opinion.
Cam and Mitch exchanged a look, and neither contradicted him. They felt the same. Andrew played at a higher level than Clausen. His numbers were better, and in the next game he would surpass the 49-TD mark.
Clausen, meanwhile, had spent his whole career at Oaks Christian, a powerful program, yes, but one built around him from day one.
The system was designed to make him shine, surrounded by star receivers and a scheme tailored to his strengths. Many people were already bringing this up in the debate about who was better, Andrew or Clausen.
Andrew didn't have any of that. He arrived at Mater Dei this very year, with a completely new playbook, a demanding coaching staff, and teammates who already had their own established style.
They hadn't molded the team around him; he adapted to the team, and elevated it.
In just a few weeks, he had made a system his own that wasn't even designed for his passing style, transforming the offense until it became a machine.
That's why Cam and Mitch weren't alarmed by his words, even if they could sound arrogant out of context.
They knew Andrew wasn't arrogant or conceited like Clausen. He was competitive, yes, but also aware of the work behind his achievements, with no need to inflate his ego.
On top of that, Andrew had something Clausen never possessed: authentic charisma. Where Clausen was distant and overbearing, Andrew was warm and natural.
All his teammates, even offensive seniors, saw him as their leader, listened to him. And outside of football, on his YouTube channel, he had millions of followers who admired him and saw him as an example, a reference point.
"What did he say?" Andrew asked.
Cam grabbed his phone and quickly played a clip. Andrew looked at the screen, where Jimmy's sweaty and miserable face appeared after the crushing loss.
[Reporter: Jimmy, changing the subject a bit… this week everyone's talking about a high school kid who's become a phenomenon. I think you've probably heard of him: Andrew Pritchett-Tucker. He's about to break your state record of 49 touchdowns in a season. What do you think? Does it make you happy to see the new generation raising the level?]
Clausen let out a short, humorless laugh and shrugged.
[High school?] he repeated with disdain. [I don't care what happens there. It has nothing to do with the level I'm playing at right now.]
He paused briefly, then added in a mocking tone, [High school records are meant to be broken. But throwing touchdowns there doesn't prepare you to read real defenses. When he's in college or the NFL, then we'll talk.]
The clip ended.
'This bastard…' Andrew thought with a grimace.
He couldn't believe the guy was still acting superior while having one of the worst rookie seasons a quarterback could have.
1–7 record.
Three touchdowns.
Nine interceptions.
More interceptions than touchdowns, and the idiot had the nerve to talk about reading defenses. If he knew how to read defenses, he wouldn't have more than double the interceptions.
And despite everything, he still spoke with superiority, as if he were the same prodigy the world adored in 2006.
What bothered Andrew the most was the complete lack of self-criticism. Clausen still had that spoiled-boy look, that "I'm better than everyone" attitude, refusing to accept that his professional career was falling apart largely because of that mindset.
Not even in college had he justified his own hype: no titles, no trophies, nothing memorable aside from his empty promises at the Notre Dame press conference.
Besides, Andrew knew what Clausen's future held. He remembered, although not with absolute precision, how the guy's career would unfold.
After his rookie season, Carolina would release him in 2013 once his contract expired.
Chicago would pick him up in 2014, only to keep him as a backup. And in 2015, the Baltimore Ravens would sign him… only to cut him months later.
Twenty-one games. Six seasons. One single win as a starter. Seven touchdowns, fourteen interceptions. That would be it. No titles, no redemption.
By age 28, Jimmy Clausen would disappear from the map, forgotten even by the same media that once crowned him the next great NFL quarterback.
"What do you think?" Cam asked.
Andrew shrugged, "Not much. His record's about to fall, so obviously he's not happy, especially after a loss."
Deep down, Andrew had no intention of letting the insult slide.
If he won the next game against Mission Viejo and was chosen MVP, he knew reporters would ask him about Clausen, and he had no plans of being diplomatic.
The following days were lived with a different kind of intensity. Practices at Mater Dei felt much more focused and serious from his teammates.
The light, relaxed atmosphere from the weeks before playing Crespi or Lakewood had completely disappeared.
Now every drill was done with the pressure of a semifinal looming ahead.
Nick, Victor, Sedric, Kevin… they all remained confident, but without the jokes or distractions. They knew this was the breaking point. Losing meant the end of the season.
Winning meant reaching the most anticipated final of the last ten years.
As for Andrew, he trained the same as always, since he treated every game with the same seriousness and focus.
The matchup would be played away from home, at Saddleback College Stadium, a venue with a capacity of 10,000 people.
It wasn't Mission Viejo's field, but CIF and ESPN had decided to move the game there, looking for a stadium with better infrastructure and a larger crowd capacity. After all, the semifinal would be broadcast nationwide.
The stadium was only three kilometers from Mission Viejo's campus, so the Diablos would still retain every home-field advantage. Tickets had sold out three days in advance.
The already electric atmosphere, full of expectation, burned even hotter thanks to Clausen's comments. Within hours, Twitter and sports forums were flooded with opinions, debates, and memes.
Everyone was talking about Andrew, about the historic record he was about to break, and about the former "golden boy" who had failed to grow up.
And so, the day of the semifinal arrived.
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