Page 65 of The Pass Protection
Olivia leads us back to our seats, where the game has resumed. Ripping a bite from the golden-brown pretzel, I chew the salty dough and stare straight ahead. The rest of the game is a blur. I go through the motions whenever the crowd cheers, but my mind is no longer present. I’ve cast a black cloud over our day, and guilt eats away at me.
As the final whistle blows, we stand and clap. The boys pulled off a landslide victory, which keeps the Eagles undefeated. I’m barely able to muster the energy to celebrate.
“Come on, babes,” Liv says as another warm smile spreads across her face. “Let’s head home.”
Home.
Home used to be a cute, quaint two-bedroom apartment in Arizona with my best friend. But he ruined that for me. Now, home is hundreds of miles away in an oversized, four-bedroom apartment with three football players.
It takes some time to get out of the stadium as everyone is funneling through the same exit. As we maneuvered our way to where we parked, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. Liv reaches her hand out, and I gladly give her the keys to the Jeep.
The drive home is silent as the GPS guides Liv back to the complex. Every shadow seems to hide a threat, every car behind us a potential danger. Exhaustion nips at me from the after-effects of the panic attack as fear gnaws at the back of my mind.
“Listen up, men,” Coach begins, his voice echoing off the walls. The locker room has been a flurry of noise from the excitement of adding another ‘W’ to the schedule. Our gear has been stripped off, and we stand around in undershirts and uniform pants. Coach Campbell makes his way to the center of the room. His face is a melody of pride and tenacity. With a clap of his hands, the room quiets as our attention goes to him.
“What you did out there was nothing short of spectacular. You played with heart, with grit, and with the kind of determination that wins championships. But as we’ve seen all season, this was just one game. One step in the journey. Targets are on our backs. I know it’s Halloween weekend, and I know you men won’t be staying in. Celebrate tonight, but on Monday, we get back to work. This is our foundation, and we build on it each week. Stay hungry, stay focused, and stay humble. Keep pushing each other to be better. Have fun and be safe. Now let’s go enjoy this moment!”
As Coach wraps up his speech, the locker room erupts in chaos. We all start whooping and hollering as we jump up and down, giving each other high-fives. JP plays a celebratory hip-hop song, which has him breaking out in his signature dance moves. Some of the guys join in, as I stand back laughing.
“There’s nothing better than a good ol’ fashion ass-kicking,” Grant shouts, slapping my back.
“Hell yeah!” My voice comes out hoarse from the yelling.
Grant moves on to the next guy as I start stripping out of my pants, grass, dirt, and grim stick to my sweaty body. I punch the four-digit number into the keypad of the school-issued safe that comes in each player’s locker. Reaching inside, I dig out my phone and tap the screen, expecting Bret’s text. It’s a little habit she’s started. Hours before each game, she sends me a good luck text and, immediately after, a great game message of some variety. After scrolling through all of my notifications, I was surprised that she hadn’t texted yet. Maybe she and Olivia are waiting outside for us.
Speaking of Olivia, when she walked into our apartment last night, she was not what I expected. The girl standing before us was grungy and badass. Bret has spoken so highly of her best friend, and I knew she wouldn’t be anything short of amazing. But seeing how confident and tough she was, I was thankful Bret had someone like her in her corner.
Sliding my phone back into the safe, I grab my toiletry bag and hit the shower. As soon as I step inside the shower and under the hot spray, my body sags with relief. I should schedule a time for some physical therapy but not tonight. The water cascades down my body, and I watch as the water turns a brownish-gray color. I watch sweat and grim wash down my body and swirl around the drain. Voices echo around me as I tilt my face under the warm stream and I let myself breathe.
Grabbing a dry towel off the ledge, I pat my body down before wrapping the cotton towel around my waist and stepping out of the stall. One of my teammates grabs my shoulder. “Nice job out there, man.”
I tip my head and thank him. The main locker room is still a hive of energy as the music continues to blare, and our social media team captures some clips of players who are still clothed. As much as I appreciate the banter and celebrations, I’m ready to see my girl, get some food, and start pregaming for the Halloween party, preferably in that order.
Fully dressed in clean clothes, I gather all my gear as I look around the room. Through a window, the coaches are gathered around a table, no doubt going over the game and preparing a strategy for next week. Coach Campbell catches my eye as he gives me a nod. Instantly, I feel like I just got the approval of a father.
After losing my dad, it’s been hard not to have a man in that role. My grandpa tries, but he’s not huge on technology, which makes calling him hard. Don’t even get him started on video calls. I’m not sure if it’s because Grant is on our team or if that’s just Coach’s personality, but he constantly reassures the team that he’s proud of them and that his door is always open if we need anything,anything.Of course, he’s a total hard ass when he needs to be, but there’s something comforting in his praise.
“See you back at the house?”
Harris nods. “Yeah, man, I’ve got to do some press before I head out of here.”
“Good luck with that.” With a wave over my shoulder, I slide my bag over my shoulder and push through the doors. Scanning the faces, I don’t find bright green eyes and jet-black hair. Or hell, even Liv’s silver hair would stand out in the crowd.
Sliding out my phone, I pull up my messages, but there is still nothing.
Me: Hey, Rebel. Are you still at the stadium?
With a few nods to people waiting, I walk down the crowded hall as I’m hit with a tinge of pain in the center of my chest. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone waiting outside for me. Jealousy strikes me in waves, and it doesn’t help that I have to hide my girlfriend from the world. One day, I’ll be able to have her in the hall and she’ll be waiting for me.
The back parking lot is still full as I’m one of the first to leave, which is pretty standard. As much as I love a post-game party, I need to unwind in my own space unless it’s a night game. Then I’m ready to party until the morning. Climbing into my truck, I slide my phone out one last time. There’s a message waiting for me.
Rebel: This is Liv. We got back a little over thirty minutes ago. Bret is sleeping. Sorry, I should’ve texted you earlier.
Me: Thanks for letting me know. I’m heading back now.
Liv likes the message, and I reverse out of my space. Bret’s sleeping? Did she drink too much at the game? And if she did, that’s odd because she’s not a huge drinker.
What would usually take me less than fifteen minutes to get home ended up taking me thirty minutes due to all of the traffic.
