Page 10 of The Run Option

“She’s hurt her hip pretty badly. Other than that and a few bruises, she’s stable. She wanted to call you herself, but I insisted she get some rest.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. If she wakes up in the next few minutes, please let her know I’m on my way.” My phone shakes as my hands begin to tremble.

“I will. Just head to the nurse’s desk on the fifth floor and tell them who you are. They’ll take you to her.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up the phone and rush back to the booth where Leo is waiting.

“I’m so sorry, but I need to go,” I tell him as I grab my purse off the booth seat. “My grandmother fell and is in the hospital.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Would you like me to drive you there?” He stands in anticipation of my response.

I shake my head. “No, but thank you for the offer. I can pay–”

He cuts me off. “Don’t worry about it. Just go see your grandmother.”

“Thank you,” I say, giving him the first genuine smile since he started detailing his surgery techniques.

He’s a nice guy, but I don’t think I have a strong enough stomach to date him.

I rush out the door as fast as I can without stumbling in my heels. Once I’m in my car, I have to take deep breaths to keep from crying.

“Crying is useless right now,” I coach myself. “You need to focus on driving. You can cry later.”

I maintain my deep breathing exercises the entire drive to the hospital and manage to only shed a few tears before I arrive.

Chapter six

Jason Kingsley

If I clench my jaw any tighter I might chip a tooth.

“No, I don’t anticipate having any issues at Jamal’s birthday party. I think it’ll be a great time celebrating one of my close friends,” I say, trying not to let my frustration seep into my tone.

I’ve sat down for yet another interview with the Road to the Playoffs crew, and they’re pushing my buttons extra today. I should be reviewing plays before practice–my usual ritual–but instead I’m being interrogated about abirthday partyof all things. They seem to think that I’m going to turn into an alcoholic buffoon just by being in the mere presence of liquor.

In the past, I’ll admit I would have seen this party as a way to let loose. As a quarterback, there’s a lot of pressure on me. I used to think the way to relieve that was by partying until the early hours of the morning and drunkenly flirting with every woman in a five-foot radius. But over a year ago I realized that I was squandering a good thing. This job is a blessing, and my body won’t be able to do it forever. Brock was the one who finally got through to me. He might have smacked me on the back of thehead while I had a raging hangover to get the message across, but that’s neither here nor there.

“In the past, you were the life of the party. Do you miss that?” one of the producers, Nancy, asks.

I can’t stop myself from frowning. What I want to say is that I still have fun at parties and enjoy time with my friends. I want to tell them that I’m not an alcoholic. I still drink now and again, but I have clear boundaries set for myself. I was just young and dumb with too much money and not enough sense before. When Brock reminded me that I was supposed to be a role model, specifically for my younger brother, Shepherd, I realized that I didn’t want my name–ourname–to be associated with overindulgence and stupidity. We put together a plan for me to lay low, and I thought it was working, but now I’m convinced I’ll never be rid of my past.

“If I wanted to live that lifestyle, I would. I’m happy with my life now. I want to focus on my future, not my past.” I try to emphasize that last part in the hopes they’ll understand.

The producers look at each other and nod.

“I think that’s all for today. Thanks, Jason!” Nancy says, hopping up with a smile.

I muster up a smile in return, even though all I want to do is ask how she can be so chipper while trying to tear apart my career and personal life. Brock will kill me if I squander this opportunity though. I’d beat myself up as well. This is my chance to show the world that I’m more than thebad boy of football. There’s still a lot of the season left. Maybe by the end of it, I’ll have convinced this crew and everyone else that the past is just that: the past.

“Thanks.” I smile at the young guy handing out water bottles.

The cool water feels amazing after sweating during practice. I squirt some on my face and head before handing it back. Practice today wasn’t too bad, but my body temperature has always run hot. During winter games when we head up north, everyone else will be huddled around the heaters in between plays; meanwhile I’m smiling because I’m finally not sweating.

“We’ll see you at the party tomorrow, right?” Calvin asks as we start for the locker rooms.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Plus, I got Jamal a killer gift.”

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