“Who is that?” one of the parents asks no one in particular.
“Elizabeth Worthington,” a guy sitting in front of her answers in a loud whisper. “She’s the owner of Worthington Industries. Very influential lady. Her grandson trained here until his mother died. Quarterback.”
“Oh. That’s so sad.”
Great. I’ve become the subject of parent gossip. I cringe as my grandmother walks up the bleachers and loudly bellows, “Yoohoo, Liam!”
All the spectators, including the scouts, are gawking and whispering among themselves. I might as well have come here with a sign on my head in fluorescent blinking lights saying Liam Blackry.
My grandmother has no clue the commotion she’s caused as she takes a seat next to me. “Please tell me why I had to learn from Harold where you’d gone this morning.”
“Becaus
