Page 7 of Quarterback Crush
I grabbed the paper from Ms. Feng, thanking her quickly. Scouting the signs, I moved with speed, fearing Savannah and friends were gaining ground.
As I turned into the reference aisle, I spotted Maya Shelton sitting alone at the table. I knew her from the cheer team and she’d been my next-door-neighbor way back when we lived in Cherry Lane. It seemed like some kind of bizarre coincidence, fate even, that I was here because of her mother.
I’m not sure how my brain computed all the parts of the scenario to come up with the scheme that happened in the blink of an eye. Before I could consider my actions and the consequences, I kissed Maya and asked her to fake date me in order to send Savannah a message. It could have been the fast approaching footsteps of Savannah and entourage. Or it could have been that Maya, with her long hair floating past her shoulders and her stunning brown eyes was like an angelic vision.
From past history, breaking up with Savannah had been a drama that involved heartfelt emotion and a bunch of tears—hers, not mine—which resolved itself sometime in the following week. But it occurred to me, that I didn’t want that. There’s a saying Coach often told us after repeated losses:If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting the same result.Essentially meaning, if we didn’t make major changes, we were going to keep losing games. Sometimes that meant dropping plays that we’d been working on or introducing new plays or players.
For whatever reason, that now resonated with me in my current situation. And made me ponder just how good Savannah and I were together. Oh sure, we’d exchanged our mutual love for one another—but was it love? If it was love, why did we end up fighting so much and why did it feel like our relationship was such a chore? If Savannah and I reunited after a week or ten days or whatever, nothing would actually change—it would happen again, some good times, then another fight, a breakup, a reunion—a vicious cycle.
And with our best football season in years, and with college applications looming, and my grades teetering on the brink of barely passing , I needed to make a change. I couldn’t carry on like this for the rest of senior year.
Though I hadn’t intended for Maya Shelton to be in the plan.
Yet, now she was—my new fake date.
As I headed to training, my brain jostled with all the insanity of the past few minutes. It wasn’t like Maya was a complete unknown. We’d been neighbors and Lizzie, Maya’s older sister had briefly dated my brother George in their senior year. I could make this work, and it only needed to be temporary. Just until Savannah saw once and for all that we were never ever getting back together.
Grabbing my helmet and pads, strangely relief flooded my body, much like the way Coach made us huddle in the ‘breathing circle’ after a game. He said we had to let go, dispel all our negative thoughts and stay in the present moment, be thankful we could play this great sport. It was quite easy to do after a victory, not so much after defeat.
But this time it felt like I was mapping out a new direction. And though it sounded harsh to be freeing myself from the shackles of Savannah, I surged with hope, with excitement.
My bubble burst though when I arrived home and dumped my bags in the entranceway, lured into the kitchen by the smell of dinner cooking. My stomach rumbled in anticipation of some much needed food.
My phone was ringing and a glance at Savannah’s name made me immediately ignore the call. Dang her for killing my joy—she’d known the exact minute I would arrive home.
“Hey, how was training?” Mom called from the pantry.
“Yeah, good. I’ll just shower.”
Mom came out holding a long skinny loaf of bread. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”
I nodded, opening the fridge and grabbing a handful of protein balls and chugging back a glass of milk.
“Everything all right?” she asked, which I knew was a euphemism for what had happened with Savannah. Coming in after game night, I hadn’t exactly been quiet about the breakup.
“Yep,” I answered, quickly realizing I never picked up those reference guides. Not good. Mrs. Shelton would probably want my assignment tomorrow or the next day. With an early morning weights session, I wouldn’t have time to fetch them until my lunch break.
Savannah phoned three times, and it took all my mental strength not to answer and hang up straight away. Hadn’t she gotten the message?
I needed to set her straight once and for all and, on impulse, dialed Maya’s number.
The voice that answered was weak and timid and I wasn’t totally sure it was Maya and panicked that it might be Mrs. Shelton. “Hello?”
“Is this Maya’s number?”
“Yes, this is Maya.”
Now recognizing her, I joked, “Maya, M A Y A?” Hearing a soft laugh, I wished I’d video called her. “Hey, I can’t thank you enough. You know, you saved my life.”
“I don’t think Savannah was about to kill you,” she said with a surprised lilt, “was she?”
I laughed. Like genuinely laughed. “Who knows? She’s already tried to call me a hundred times since.” It was an exaggeration, but it seemed like Maya had a sense of humor.
“Death by harrassment?” she queried.
“Something like that,” I said, unable to stop smiling. “So, we gotta do something about it. When are you available? How about this Saturday?”
“This Saturday?”
