Page 107 of Fumble Into the End Zone

“Nobody on this team knows you outside of Bryce. A reporter asked me something about you. Hell, I can’t remember what he asked, but I do remember I couldn’t answer it. I asked somebody else, and they couldn’t answer it. You don’t hang with the wide receiver core or the defense. You cool?” he questioned.

“Let’s head to the field,” Coach announced, giving me the perfect out.

I blended in with the crowd without answering Ed’s question. When someone called his name, I moved, putting space between us. Dr. Choice said change wouldn’t happen overnight and right now, I was exercising my old behaviors.

“Marcus, we need to wrap,” Ed said as the defense separated on the opposite side of the field.

I stood next to Coach Owens until he looked over at me, “Allen, check on Bryce,” he said, and I walked off the field.

On my way to the clinic, I was full-blown laughing my ass off. The dream. Kindness had to be pregnant. It’s the one thing that explained his symptoms. At first, we thought it was nerves, but I was confident he was expecting. I pushed off the wall as Bryce exited the door.

“I have a diagnosis,” I said as we strolled toward the practice field.

“Oh, really?” Bryce said with a light chuckle.

“Kindness is pregnant. You’re carrying the symptoms. Welcome to the club,” I said, and Bryce paused my forward motion with his arm.

“What?” he questioned.

The hard shocked expression on Bryce’s face was priceless. His muscles tightened on his jawline as he stared back at me.

“Listen, when my sorry-ass baby mama was pregnant with Harley, I stayed sick. The morning sickness took me down for a few weeks. The headaches were the worst,” I said.

Granny had a dream about fish, and my grandfather sat me down. The next day, I cornered Sierra during fifth period, and she lied about being pregnant. By the time I made it home, her parents were in my living room. They tried to force her to abort, but she was too far along. Sierra and I planned to raise Harley together. I had already dropped out of school, running packages for Big O.

“Is being a father hard?” Bryce asked, and I smiled.

Harley saved my life, and she pushed me to be better; not just as a father, but as a man. There were days when coaches were on my ass, teachers riding my back, and I had my grandfather pushing me to work. Through everything, she was my light.

“Some days, it’s hard and others are even harder, but I’m speaking from a different point of view. I was a single father andpoor. I’m thankful for Harley. She kept me out of the streets. Without my grandmother babysitting, I wouldn’t be here today. Things are a lot better with Mia agreeing to be her mother.”

“Did she agree?” Bryce asked.

With the agreement Mia and I had, we decided to keep the engagement to ourselves until after the Elite Bowl. I had to bribe Harley to keep her mouth closed around Mia’s parents.

“Don’t let Mia fool you. She loves taking care of our daughter. I reward her every night.”

“Marcus, you need help,” Bryce said.

Coach allowed Bryce to leave early and the way he sprinted out of here, I knew his ass was nervous.

“Allen, run drills with Brent,” Coach Owens instructed.

Even at half ass effort, we had a decent connection. I caught a few passes and stood on the sideline afterward. Waiting for the next play, Ed and I made eye contact. “Fuck,” I said under my breath as he ran across the field. He tapped my chest after he landed.

“Marcus, the guys are hanging out tonight. I spoke with the wide receiver core and don’t nobody know shit about you. You need to bond with your team. Hang out with us,” Ed said.

I smirked.

“Oh, is this a loyalty thing to Bryce over Vick? How is Vick the captain and y’all don’t talk? How is the offense even functioning with the top two wide receivers not having a relationship?” Ed asked, and I shrugged.

“Allen,” Coach Owens waved me in.

I ran across the field and put on my helmet to ready myself for the next play. On the way to the locker room, a hard bump came from behind me, halting my steps. Stedman stepped in front of me.

“You better be glad my wife called off the divorce or your ass would be on the ground,” he said.

“Vick must have given you my suggestion to a marriage counselor,” I said, and then pointed to Vick.

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