Page 23 of Hard Count
“Now watch this next play.”
“Nothing,” Eli answers. “And a run play.”
“Wrong.” She smirks at him. She plays it again at half speed this time. “See how he dips his knees? It’s a run play but also a reverse. He does it every time.”
“Why? It’s not like anyone can see it on their line.”
“He doesn’t do it on purpose. It’s a habit. A tick. He could be visualizing the play before the snap. Any number of things. It’s barely noticeable but it’s there if you pay attention. It’s all in the packet. Every play, every player, every move they make is in there. Now I want you to look at another player and tell me what you see.”
Drew clicks around on her computer and in no time she has a Newhouse game on the screen. Only it isn’t a game. It’s a compilation of all my passing plays since I became a starter. My skin begins to itch beneath the surface and Ishift in my seat. She wraps her arm around my calf and grazes her fingers up and down my leg in steady strokes.
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” Lucas asks.
“How long are you waiting for the ball on this play?” She rewinds the tape back with one hand, refusing to take the other off of me.
“Maybe one or two seconds,” he replies.
“And what side of the field were you on?”
“The right.”
“What about this play? Same thing,” she says.
“Five seconds on the left.”
“Those extra seconds could mean the difference between a first down and a sack. Fifty-four percent of the offensive plays in your playbook are on the left side of the field.”
“What’s taking you so long to throw the ball, QB?” Trey asks, patronizing me. If he wants to get a rise out of me it won’t work. I don’t care what he says about me. I’m good as long as he keeps Drew’s name out of his mouth.
“I don’t know,” I answer through gritted teeth. Drew removes her arm from around my leg and pulls up more game footage.Fucking fantastic.
She takes them through our top five running plays and what each player does that might give our opponent’s defense a clue as to what play we called. And then she starts up footage of Alabama’s defense. I know I should pay attention but I begin to zone out.
It makes me feel better knowing I’m not the only one with issues to fix. The problem is I don’t know how to fix mine. Idon’t know how to get out of my head to do what needs to be done and get the play off on time.
“Excuse me.” I leave my plate on the arm of the couch and step over Drew to go to the hall bathroom. I need a minute. I splash water on my face and lean over the sink. I’d rather stare at the sun than look at myself in the mirror.
There’s a timid knock on the door and I already know she’s on the other side. I turn the knob, leaving it ajar for her, and move out of her way so she can slip inside.
“I’m having déjà vu. We should really stop meeting like this,” I say.
Her grin eases some of the tension in my chest.
“The guys went home or to the gym to workout.” She drops back against the vanity. “I don’t think they liked watching game film. They got bored faster than I expected.”
“I told them we were doing it your way.”
She nods. “Are you alright?”
I shake my head.
“Can I do something to help?”
“Like what? Kiss it and make it better?”
Her skin flushes under her cotton shirt. “That’s not what I was suggesting. I’m not going to let you kiss me for the first time in the bathroom.”
“Where would you let me kiss you?” I ask, crowding her.
