Wild Card

A/N

-- Many apologies for the delay in posting. Since the content of the prologue isn't typical Literotica fare, I decided to wait until after I completed chapter 1 before posting. And then I had to figure out how to format it since I got a little adventurous with the layout. I may revisit Horton and Strap in future installments, unless readers stage a mutiny (I've my own pitchfork mob on another site due to a certain missing football player!).

~Dayne

E-P-I-C Book 2: Wild Card

Wild about Wild Card

~Ally Horton, LonghornSportsCast

Tomorrow, the Friday Night Lights will light up across Texas as hundreds of high school boys take the field. Crowds will gather, and many a young man hopes a college recruiter or two will be in the stands. Of course, for one high school in the lower part of Hill Country, those recruiters are a sure thing.

But, their sights are set on one young man.

As seventeen-year-old Cibolo High School senior Cory Card, the last member of the Card College Football Dynasty, walks onto the field, he will do so under the same scrutiny that has followed him since the third grade. Since then, the Wild Card has revealed his hand, finding a place on the D-line and excelling in it.

Despite the attention, the youngest Card remains grounded, saying he's "just there to do [his] best and play ball like any other guy on the field." Both coaches and teammates agree he is an asset to his team, and a pretty decent guy, even though the recruiter frenzy tends to overshadow everyone around him.

With his brothers Cameron and Caiden Card having finished out their final year of edibility, their respective college teams are looking to make a grab for the Wild Card. And, a number of other teams are looking to make a play for him.

However, the question remains—will Cory Card live up to his name, or fall victim to his hype?

Prologue—Brotherhood of the Midnight Cake

Cory Card had been having a really nice dream.

In this dream, he had a kitten—a small, fluffy thing of his very own.

He'd always wanted a kitty, but his big brothers always had dogs, and their dad wasn't about to deal with the mess a big dog would inevitably make of a little cat. Even in the rare times the family didn't have a dog, Connor, Sr. still turned him down because "No son of mine is going to have some mangy goddamn cat, so stop begging". That didn't stop Cory from researching all he would need to have a cat, or better arguments for having a cat each time his dad refused him.

But, for the first time, little ten-year-old Cory was getting a cat.

In the dream, Connor, Jr. took him to PetPlanet, which he'd always thought of as "Dog Walmart", so he could look at the cats in the adoption area. His oldest brother sometimes did this when Cory was down about something (and always assured him that ten wasn't too old to look at cats when he felt sad, no matter what Caiden and Cameron said). This time, however, was different.

His favorite cat rescue, Wrathburn Sanctuary, was at PetPlanet for the weekend, like they were every third weekend of the month. Cory loved them because they loved Cory and let him pet whatever cat he wanted, even if Connor and Cory could never give it a "forever home". Mrs. Wrathburn, one of the owners, asked the same question, "Would you like to hold one?" And, Cory gave the same answer, "Yes, please." He carefully considered each cat and kitten before picking out a small grey tabby with a light pink nose and pink jelly bean toes, much like the one he saw the last time.

Cory gingerly held the little kitten Mrs. Wrathburn handed him close to his chest, where it curled into his body and set to purring. He appreciated dogs, but they didn't have the warm squishiness that cats did. Dogs couldn't snuggle the way cats could. Petting dogs just wasn't the same either. The kitten's fragile warmth and softness woke protective urges in Cory.

The boy sighed—if only he could take it home.

"Do you like him?" Connor asked.

"Uh huh," Cory nodded, scratching under his chin.

"That's the one you want?" Mrs. Wrathburn said.

"I wish," Cory said, a small frown on his face.

"Cool," his brother said, as if not hearing the regret in Cory's voice, and turned to Mrs. Wrathburn. "We'll take him."

Cory looked back in disbelief, yet sure enough, Connor was filling out the paperwork that would make the little kitty his.

However, before Connor could finish, Cory felt the bed roll beneath him.

And it had been such a nice dream.

Cory whined at the rude awakening. He could tell it was Cameron. Connor and Caiden were nicer when they tried to wake him up, but Cameron was a dick about it. Instead of shaking his shoulder (Caiden) or ruffling his hair (Connor), the third Card boy liked to put his hands on the bed and bounce the mattress with his full body weight until he rolled Cory over. Cameron never did it to their other brothers, either because they'd kick his ass, or he was just peeved about having to share a bedroom with someone five years younger.

"Dude, get up," his brother insisted. Cory pulled his blanket over his head with another whine. "Fine, stay in bed, but you'll be whining later when it's all gone." Cameron left before he could answer.

Cory forced himself awake, and made his way to the kitchen, where his older brothers held court over two seven-inch chocolate cakes cooling on racks. They greeted him with their usual teasing.

"Sup, Wild Card?" Caiden said.

"I wish you'd stop calling me that." Sure, Cory liked the implications and associations tied to the little nickname his youth league coaches had given him (and Connor's college recruiters had picked up), but what he didn't like was his brothers' teasing.

"We only do it 'cause we love ya," Cameron chuckled.

"Come on," Connor said, waving him over. "We're almost done."

But, Caiden halted him before he could take a seat at the breakfast bar.

"What's the first rule of Cake Club?" he demanded.

Cory sighed. He knew he'd have to play this out before they'd let him sit.

"'You do not talk about Cake Club'," he huffed.

"What's the second rule of Cake Club?" Cameron asked. When Cory hesitated, he held up the flat beater attachment from the stand mixer. It was still covered in chocolate fudge buttercream frosting. Once the boys had figured out how easy it was to make frosting, Cake Club refused to resort to store-bought, and since Cory seemed the most adept at wheedling their mom into buying the ingredients, he got to lick the beater.

"'You do not talk about Cake Club'." Cory's mastery of eye-rolling was beyond that of most teens, a feat for someone who'd not even grown his first pube. "Can I sit down now?"

Connor pulled around a bar stool and motioned for him to have a seat, then back-handed Cameron's shoulder when he tried to play keep-away with the beater.

"You know, it's not going to be as cute when he hits puberty," Caiden said as Cory accepted his prize.

"I already hit puberty," he protested, using his finger to scoop frosting off the beater and into his mouth. He stopped licking it directly after the first time, when Connor had teased him for getting frosting on his nose and cheeks.

"Two weeks ago," Caiden responded.

"Fuck you!" Cory said.

Cameron chuckled. "It's fucking adorable when he curses in that squeaky little voice."

"Asshole."

"See?" He and Caiden shared a quiet laugh.

"Don't know why you're laughing," Connor said. "You two were still squeaking until about a few months ago."

Cory giggled around a mouthful of chocolate frosting.

Since the middle Cards were only ten months apart, they seemed to go through their major growth spurts in tandem. It had been a chorus of squeaks and cracking voices over the last couple years.

When Caiden and Cameron flipped Connor the bird, Cory giggled again. All three boys hushed him, but he didn't see why he needed to bother. Even if their parents hadn't been heavy sleepers, their mom knew about Cake Club anyway. The boys did all they could to cover their tracks, but no amount of destroying, cleaning, or hiding the bits of evidence that couldn't be devoured could cover up their midnight activities. How the boys thought they could get away with baking and eating a whole cake all in one night on an almost monthly basis for five years was anyone's guess. Although, only Cory knew that their mom had found out (before he had a chance to break the first and second rules) and thought it was "an absolute gas" that her sons didn't think she wouldn't notice the missing ingredients.

"You were squeaky, too," Cameron pointed out.

"Yeah, about the time we let Cory join the club," Caiden added.

"Not like we had a choice," Cameron said. He mimicked sniffles and hiccoughs. "'You're... you're... e... e... eating... c... cake without... me?'" He pretended to break down into heaving sobs.

"Surprised he didn't wake up Mom and Dad," Caiden said. "Fuck man, then Connor had to get all weak and start babying him."

"It was pretty funny, though," Cameron added. Connor rolled his eyes. "Cory's all crying like a baby—"

"Dude, he was six," Connor said. "Six-year-olds get emotional sometimes."

"And you're tryin' to get him to stop, but your voice kept cracking," Cameron said.

Caiden melodramatically hugged Cameron, who pretended to cry again, and patted his head. "Aww, ...screech... Cor-cor," he crooned, "don't ...screech... cry. Of course you can ...screech... eat cake with us. There ...screech... there. I'll ...screech... take you ...screech... to ...screech... look at ...screech... kitties ...screech... tomorrow." Their dual performance had Connor and Cory both chuckling in spite of themselves.

Cameron pulled back. "I don't know which is more disgusting—how easily Cory can manipulate Connor, or how easily we can manipulate Cory if a cat is involved."

"Or how much Cory puked after eating a fourth of a cake all in one sitting," Connor said.

"That was pretty bad," Cory agreed. He was sick the whole next day,

and

he missed out on visiting Mrs. Wrathburn at PetPlanet. Since then, they'd put half of his share in a plastic container and he hid it in the crisper drawer for later. His brothers didn't know this, but he'd always shared that piece with their mom while they were still at football practice. "So, what are we making this time?"

"Guess," Connor said.

By the time Cory had joined the club, the boys had already grown bored with plain layer cakes and began branching out. Caiden had eventually conned his friend's mom into teaching him the ins and outs of baking and decorating cakes, and he in turn had taught his brothers. They also looked up new things to try online. Because they hadn't quite mastered the concept of clearing their browsing history, their mother had intel on the ingredients they might want (in addition to the porn they had watched) and would make the needed purchases (of cake ingredients, not porn).

However, as this was the last meeting of Cake Club before Connor left for Austin to attend the University of Texas, their mother didn't need to search browsing histories. She had predicted that he would want his favorite cake. Cory looked around the kitchen. Sure enough, the bag of frozen cherries she picked up had been transformed into the cherry filling now cooling on a trivet, and some of the frosting had been loaded into a plastic storage baggie.

"Double-chocolate Black Forest cake?"

"You got it," he answered, ruffling his baby brother's hair.

Caiden touched the top of one of the cakes. "I think they're cool enough now." He and Connor stepped back, and Cameron stepped forward with a paring knife. All four boys knew how to torte a cake, but Cameron always did this step because he had the steadiest hand and made the evenest layers.

Cory watched as Cameron moved each layer to its own plate before scoring a guideline around each cake with the knife. He took the cake leveler Connor handed him, adjusted the wires, and then sawed through the middle. Once the new layers were onto waiting plates, he brushed off the crumbs.

"All yours," he told his brothers.

"Let's do this!" Connor said, clapping his hands together. Caiden may have been the mastermind behind Cake Club, but Connor was its ringleader. He took up the saucepan of cherry filling and pointed Cory to the tub of whipped cream, while Caiden snipped off a corner on the freezer bag of frosting. The makeshift piping bag made a neat border on the outside of each round, which Connor filled with cherries, and Cory spooned whipped cream over. As he was the only one that could be trusted with moving the cake layers without breaking them, Cameron capped everything off with another layer of cake. And, after a few moments in which various cake fillings were gorged upon, the whole process started all over again.

A couple hours after midnight, the boys stood back to appreciate their finished product.

"It looks so good," Cory sighed.

"Almost too good to eat," Connor agreed.

"Y'all can look at your share," Cameron said, "but, I'm sure as fuck gonna eat mine!"

"Woulda been better if it had time to set," Caiden said, thoughtfully. He waved around the cake knife like a baton. "It's going to be all gooey and messy when you eat it."

"That's what she said," Cameron snickered. Cory giggled along with his brothers, even though he really didn't understand what was so funny. He'd learned years ago that it was better to laugh than ask for explanations (or worse, laugh

then

ask for explanations!).

Instead, he watched as the cake was sectioned off, and slices placed on waiting plates. Someone filled four glasses with milk, and Cory grabbed forks for all. Then, the brothers took up their usual spots at the breakfast bar and began the initial stages of destruction of evidence.

Cory watched his brothers cram their mouths full of cake. He wouldn't see the word "bittersweet" on his vocabulary lists until later that school year, but he would immediately recognize the feeling. This was a bittersweet moment. He loved his brothers and looked up to them, wanted to be just like them.

But, tomorrow, things would change.

Tomorrow, Connor would finish loading up his car, and the family would send him off to Austin, TX to start summer training with the Longhorns.

Tomorrow, Cameron would move his things out of the room he'd shared with Cory since Cory had been old enough to share a room, and would begin sharing a room with Caiden. They would be starting their junior year of high school together (depending on how you looked at it, Caiden, who'd be seventeen in September, had been held back, or Cameron, who'd be sixteen in July, had been bumped up), and their parents felt it would be more appropriate for the two to room together now that was Connor moving out.

Tomorrow, college recruiters would shift their attention to the younger Card boys, stretching what had already been an irritation for Cory into an eight-year-long headache.

The same recruiters that had watched Connor had been watching Caiden and Cameron. Both boys had shown the same promise as their eldest brother, earning spots on the varsity team by their sophomore year. Rumor had it that, if they progressed at the rate Connor had, they'd have their pick of colleges (but rumor also had it that UT, as well as Texas A&M, wanted them something fierce). And when recruiters learned that there was a fourth Card brother, headhunters for the Longhorns and Aggies had started making brief appearances at Cory's practices and games.

Which made the whole "Wild Card" business worse.

It was still up in the air where puberty would leave Cory. At ten, he was bigger than most boys his age, and had shown an aptitude for a number of positions, which was fairly par for the course for Connor Card, Sr.'s boys—who all looked like their daddy, but were built like the men on their momma's side. Card men were attractive, charming, and compact, but Frederick men were smart, quick, and built large. If he continued growing, he could end up on the d-line like Connor, Jr (who would reach their Uncle John's "brick shithouse" proportions before he hit twenty). If he didn't, his speed and intellect would make him a natural quarterback like Caiden (who got Frederick height and brains, but Card musculature). And, if his legs got any stronger, he might be another kicker like Cameron (who was definitely a Frederick-Card hybrid, but no amount of family tree scouting could locate where the powerhouse legs came from).

Knowing Cory's potential, his youth league coaches had been trying him out in different places along both the offensive and defensive lines, but he'd played well wherever they stuck him. Like duct tape, Cory covered any gap, but, unlike duct tape, he made it look neat. The story was, that the coaches were talking about the boys on their rosters over a game of poker, when Cory started playing youth league years before. Cory's name came up as someone laid out a royal flush with a deuce, the wild card, and the connection was made. Cory became "Wild Card", a name that recruiters later picked up from the coaches. Once news reporters got ahold of it, his fate had been sealed.

Cory loved it as much as he loathed it.

~*~*~*~

I stared up at the ceiling, where dozens of Mexican tin lanterns used to hang, unable to stop thinking long enough to sleep.

Tomorrow, things would change.

Tomorrow, I'd finish loading up my truck.

Tomorrow, my parents would send me on my way to Virginia.

But, tonight, things had already changed.

I thought back to when my brothers and I had "Cake Club" before Connor left for college. We ate too much cake, finished off all the leftover frosting, whipped cream, and cherry filling, and then fought our sugar comas in order to get the kitchen back to rights before we crashed. As it was, Connor had to carry me to bed when I could no longer keep on my feet and dry dishes at the same time.

We didn't know it then, but that would be the last time all four of us would be together for late night desserts. That night had been our last Cake Club with Connor. He left, and two years later, when Caiden and Cameron where packing off to college (Caiden to play for the Aggies, and Cameron for the Longhorns), he wasn't able to get away from summer training to help me send them off. And, tonight, six years later, none of them had been able to leave their post-college obligations to send me off.

I understood, and I didn't begrudge my brothers, as I got to visit with them at different points the last few weekends, but I still missed them tonight. Missed them all the more because it would be more than half a year before I could see them again.

Somehow, I knew that would hurt more than not seeing my parents in that time.

Mom offered to get things for my cake, offered to stay up with me to make it, suggested I invite over Keenan and Victor, but it wouldn't be the same. Keenan had been my best friend since pre-K, and we

had

tried Cake Club together, but he just wasn't Connor, or Caiden, or Cameron.

And Victor...

He stopped talking to me many months ago, which had hurt at the time, but I'd come to realize wasn't that much of a loss. It also didn't help matters that my best friend and my sorta-but-not-really ex had hated each other even before Victor and I started fooling around, which would have made tonight even more uncomfortable than it already was.

I closed my eyes, turned over in bed, and pulled the blanket over my head.

I wished I would have known eight years ago that that Cake Club with Connor was the last. I would have made it last, if I could have. Hell, even my last Cake Club with Caiden and Cameron would suffice.

I should have committed more of those bittersweet nights to memory.