The half-closed curtain let a few rays of sunlight slip through, landing right on Andrew's face. He frowned, uncomfortable, his eyelids twitching until he finally gave up and slowly opened his eyes.
'Is it morning already…? Where am I?' he thought, with that usual confusion of someone waking abruptly from one of the best dreams they've had in days.
The ceiling wasn't his. He lowered his gaze slightly and felt the weight on his body: Madison, fast asleep, wrapped around him in the same position.
Then he remembered. The party at Katie's house. Bringing Madison. The wall, the window, her room, and falling asleep there.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, trying to sit up.
He had to struggle a bit to free himself from Madison's arms. She stirred slightly but kept sleeping. His phone, still resting on his chest, almost slipped as he got up. He caught it just in time, unlocked the screen, and his expression paled slightly.
It was noon. And worse, eleven missed calls from his dad, Mitchell. He also had a bunch of messages, but that wasn't important right now.
'This is bad… why the hell didn't this thing ring?' Andrew cursed mentally, checking his phone quickly until he realized, it was on silent.
He rubbed his forehead. The latest acceptable hour to be back home was 4 a.m., and he'd probably fallen asleep around three or three-thirty.
Realistically, what was safer? Sleeping there, or driving half-awake and risking an accident? If he explained it to his parents, there shouldn't be a punishment.
He typed a quick message to his dad:
[Andrew: I'm fine. Heading home now. Don't worry 👍😀]
Then he checked the chat that worried him most at the moment, the group with Leonard and Howard. He was supposed to drive them home, and hadn't.
There was a string of messages. The first, from Howard, at 3:50 a.m.:
[Howard: I did it, guys!]
Attached was a photo: him in a bed with white sheets, hair messy, almost a tear at the corner of his eye, shirtless, covered up to his chest.
Andrew let out a disbelieving laugh. 'Oh my God… that bastard actually did it.'
Then a message from Leonard a few minutes later:
[Leonard: Congrats, man, but we didn't need the photo, or your pale, hairy chest… By the way, Andrew, I'm ready to go home now. Sorry for the late reply.]
Of course, he got no response. Ten minutes later, another message:
[Leonard: Andrew?]
Then another:
[Leonard: Well, I guess I'll figure something out.]
To Andrew's relief, five minutes after that last one, Leonard texted again:
[Leonard: Andrew, wherever you read this… Haley gave me a ride home. We got here safe. I noticed you were worried about her drinking, but she didn't. She was driving and talking way too well to be drunk.]
The message came with a selfie of Leonard at home, giving a thumbs-up at 4:30 a.m.
Andrew sighed in relief. Leonard always knew how to handle things. But that wasn't the end of the group's messages.
[Howard: You're lucky Haley remembered you. But seriously, where the hell is Andrew? Did some crazy fangirl kidnap him?]
[Leonard: Do you really think a girl could kidnap a guy over six-three and almost two hundred pounds of pure muscle?]
[Howard: Against a Glock, muscle doesn't mean much, my friend.]
[Leonard: Fair point, but luckily that's not it. I asked Katie; she said she opened the gate for him and Madison. They left together. Maybe to her place or who knows where…]
[Howard: Madison!?]
[Howard: That lucky bastard! Ended the night the best way possible! I hope he had condoms. I would've lent him one from my box of twenty.]
Andrew read everything with a mix of amusement and resignation.
He typed back quickly:
[Andrew: Sorry for disappearing. I fell asleep in… well, I'll explain later. Glad you guys are okay. And Howard, congrats, your strategy finally worked.]
Seconds later, the typing indicator appeared, Howard was already writing back, probably eager to know what happened with Madison.
But Andrew locked the phone and pocketed it. He couldn't start chatting now. He had a more urgent problem: getting out of this house.
Given the time, it was obvious that Madison's parents were already home. The strange thing was that they hadn't gone upstairs to check on their daughter yet.
He moved closer to the door and pressed his ear against it. Yes, he could hear faint noises downstairs. They were there.
"Damn it," he muttered, turning toward the window.
It was the only way out. The same one he had used to sneak in just a few hours ago. The problem was doing it now, in broad daylight, without being seen.
He looked at Madison, still asleep. He nudged her carefully, not too gently, not too roughly, just enough to make her stir. She groaned a little, half-asleep, until her eyes opened. When she saw him, she looked surprised, though more pleasantly than he expected.
"You fell asleep," she said in a raspy, morning voice.
"Really? You don't say…" Andrew grumbled, not exactly in the best mood given the situation. "I shouldn't have agreed when you invited me to stay."
Madison smiled faintly. "It was the best thing. It would've been dangerous for you to drive that tired. And I have to say, sleeping with your chest as a pillow was amazing. I had the most restful sleep in ages. Didn't you?"
Andrew couldn't deny it, neither the part about driving drowsy nor the part about the good sleep. He'd slept better than ever, and Madison's warmth and perfume certainly hadn't been bad either.
"You seem a little too calm, considering your parents are downstairs," Andrew said, raising an eyebrow.
"I am. My parents are really understanding, liberal. They trust me. And if they saw you, they'd feel even better. They watch all of Mater Dei's games. My mom cheers for you. I'm sure if I introduce you right now, they'd be thrilled and congratulate you for last night's game," Madison said with a smile.
Andrew immediately shook his head. "No, that's exactly what I don't want. These are the kind of commitments I told you about. It's barely the first night we've actually gotten to know each other better, and meeting your parents like this would be… weird."
The plan was to take things slow, no commitments, just see how it all developed. Meeting Madison's parents in this context would be like skipping five steps ahead.
Madison sighed, remembering perfectly his "no commitments" speech. She couldn't push him now, no matter how much she wanted her parents to meet Andrew.
"Fine," she said, giving in as she stood up. "I'll distract them. You go out the window."
Within minutes, she was ready. Before leaving the room, she carefully explained the best escape route over the roof, the one that didn't face any front windows, just in case someone was watching.
She stepped close to Andrew and, before leaving, leaned in to steal a quick kiss on his lips.
"Good luck, quarterback," she whispered with a half-smile, then slipped out.
A few minutes later, Andrew got a text from Madison saying it was time.
Without hesitation, he opened the window and climbed out swiftly, moving quickly and keeping alert. He slid along the roof and dropped down onto one of the side walls. One clean, silent jump later, he landed on the sidewalk.
As he walked toward the Camaro, he couldn't help thinking that Madison's parents had to have seen his car parked right in front of their house.
But whatever, it didn't matter now. Any trouble would be Madison's, not his. And if they were as understanding as she said, she'd be fine.
He got in, started the engine, and headed home. Thirty minutes later, he parked in front of the family's driveway.
Getting out of the Camaro, he walked up to the front door. But before he could even grab the handle, it opened from the inside.
There was Mitchell, arms crossed, wearing his signature look of silent judgment. Behind him stood Cam.
"Seriously?" Cam began, clearly offended. "You disappear for hours, and the first message you send us is this…" He turned his phone around, showing the screen:
[Andrew: I'm fine. Heading home now. Don't worry 👍😀.]
"I never thought I'd see the day when Haley kept her word before you," said Mitchell, shaking his head.
Haley had come home exactly at the agreed time, just as Claire had asked, not a minute late. In fact, she'd given Leonard a ride home and hadn't had a single drop of alcohol, something Claire immediately noticed since she'd stayed up waiting for her. Phil had been proud.
"I can explain. It's not what it looks like," Andrew said, raising his hands in a peace gesture. "I didn't drink anything, seriously."
"Besides, if I had been drinking, do you think I'd look this fresh right now?" he added, trying to sound logical.
He had no dark circles, his breath was clean, and he looked perfectly fine.
"Andrew..." Mitch began, "Given your physical condition, I'm sure you're the teenager most capable of recovering from a hangover in just a few hours."
Andrew opened his mouth, but closed it right away. His dad had a point. Besides, being young meant your body was far more resilient, unlike when you got older, when hangovers hit harder and lasted longer.
"Can I come in? And explain everything?" Andrew asked, trying to take the civilized route.
He understood his parents' concern and wasn't about to get defensive or say something like "let me live my life."
Mitchell and Cam exchanged a quick glance before stepping aside. There was no point in scolding him without hearing his version first.
Andrew walked in, heading to the living room, and sat on one of the single armchairs off to the side.
"Where's Lily?" he asked, noticing no sign of his adorable little sister.
"Visiting her grandparents," Cam replied, sitting down on the main sofa. Mitchell sat beside him. Of course, grandparents meant Jay and Gloria.
"Alright…" said Andrew, and began recounting his night.
He told them about the party and, with no better option, included what happened with Madison, since it was central to explaining why he never made it home. How he drove her back, how she had forgotten her keys, how he helped her climb in through the window, and how she invited him to stay since nobody was home, and they both ended up falling asleep.
Naturally, he left out the kissing and everything else they had shared.
When he finished, Mitchell and Cam exchanged a silent look.
"So… you fell asleep at the cheer captain's house? Without her parents there?" Mitchell asked gravely.
"Yeah," Andrew admitted plainly.
Cam squinted slightly, a not-so-subtle smile forming. "For her to ask you to drive her home and then invite you in, you two must've gotten along really well. There was chemistry, wasn't there?"
His gossip mode activated instantly at the scent of a new romance in his son's life.
"Yeah, Dad, there was chemistry, but nothing serious, you know? We're just getting to know each other. No commitments," Andrew replied calmly.
Cam clasped his hands, nearly clapping with excitement as his mind already painted the charming cliché: the team's star quarterback and the cheer captain.
Mitchell, on the other hand, looked at him with narrowed eyes. "So, you just slept? Because if you did other things, I hope you used prote—"
"Dad," Andrew cut him off before he could finish. "We just slept. Literally. We were exhausted. Nothing happened."
Mitchell nodded slowly, utterly serious, not the slightest bit awkward. For him, it was simple: his son needed to understand that if things ever did go further, he had to be careful. He couldn't afford a mistake that could jeopardize his entire career.
After that, silence filled the room.
Mitchell sat deep in thought, analyzing everything Andrew had said, trying to decide what to do next. Cam, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own world, daydreaming about the possible romance between Andrew and Madison, maybe even fantasizing about future grandkids.
Finally, Mitchell stood up. "Come with me to the kitchen, we need to talk," he said, looking at Cam.
They both got up and disappeared into the kitchen.
Andrew sighed from the couch, knowing exactly what was happening: his parents were going to debate whether or not he deserved punishment for not coming home as agreed.
In the kitchen, Mitchell crossed his arms and spoke quietly so Andrew couldn't hear. "What do we do?"
Cam looked at him with unusual seriousness. "I don't know, but a punishment feels unfair."
Mitchell nodded. Andrew's story was consistent, and there were no signs he'd been drinking. He remembered everything clearly, without contradictions.
"Honestly, I'm glad he fell asleep at that girl's house," Mitchell said after a sigh.
Cam raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? You're thinking about the romance too? It'd be such a cute classic, star quarterback and cheer captain."
"What? No, that's not what I meant," Mitchell replied, confused. "I'm not speculating about our son's love life."
Cam smirked but said nothing.
Mitchell continued, his tone firm. "I mean he was exhausted. Up since early morning, playing a game that demanded everything physically, then going to a party… driving home at three in the morning in that condition would've been incredibly dangerous. If something had happened to him, it would've been our fault, for letting him go out and come back that late on his own."
Cam processed those words and finally muttered a quiet "oh." Mitchell was right. The blame would've fallen on them, not just blame, but outright irresponsibility. They, the adults, should've told him not to go given how tired he was, or at least offered to pick him up.
"Then punishing him makes no sense," Cam concluded at last.
Mitchell nodded with a sigh. "Just when I thought we were finally going to use our parental authority, it turns out he actually did the right thing by staying over. And to top it off, the blame falls more on us than on him."
He leaned back against the counter, looking resigned. The last time they had punished Andrew had been over a year ago, after that drunken night with Steve, Howard, and Leonard. Since then, his behavior had been flawless.
Mitchell had thought that today, at last, his son would break that streak of perfection, that he'd finally have a chance to exercise that "fatherly authority" he so often saw other parents use with their kids. But no. Not even this time.
Cam gave his shoulder a gentle pat, a faint smile on his lips. "Honey, we just have to accept that Andrew isn't a normal teenager."
Andrew's obsession with perfection, his strict diet, training, and sleep routines, made him incredibly disciplined. He didn't cause the typical teenage problems: no sneaking out, no drunken nights, no constant lying, none of that.
Eventually, they returned to the living room and delivered his sentence. No punishment. Mitchell, in a more serious tone, simply asked that next time Andrew not leave them in the dark for so many hours, even though they understood why it had happened.
Andrew had escaped punishment thanks to his parents' understanding nature, and not stubbornness.
Days went by without further incident. The following Friday arrived, but there was no game. It was a bye week, while the official CIF Southern Section playoff brackets were being announced.
Mater Dei already had its confirmed opponent. As Trinity League champion and a high seed in the bracket, they would debut in the Round of 16 against Crespi Carmelite High School from the Serra League.
Crespi was a respected program, rich in tradition and talent, though still a few steps below California's elite: Mater Dei, Servite, Long Beach Poly, Mission Viejo, programs that defined Division I excellence.
Even so, Crespi was a worthy rival, the first obstacle on the road toward the long-awaited sectional championship. The game would take place on Friday, October 31st, Halloween night.
Meanwhile, ESPN officially released the ratings for the game that had crowned Mater Dei as league champions against Servite: 1.5 million viewers nationwide, the highest in high school football history. It surpassed the previous record, also set by Andrew in the victory over Bosco, by 200,000 viewers.
A historic milestone: the two most-watched high school football games of all time had Mater Dei on the field and Andrew as the undeniable star.
And that wasn't the only good news of the week. On YouTube, Andrew had finally reached the long-coveted #1 spot worldwide in subscribers.
The Saturday after the game, he uploaded his now-classic documentary-style video: pregame training, preparation, highlights, and postgame footage. The hype surrounding the match, the trending topics on Twitter, the forums, newspapers, and national coverage, all propelled his growth like a rocket.
In just a few days, his channel jumped from 3,095,000 to nearly 3,300,000 subscribers, a surge of almost 200,000.
Nigahiga was officially behind, trailing by about 150,000.
Andrew, though unsure how long he could hold the global top spot on YouTube, was genuinely happy to have achieved it.
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