Page 12 of Hidden Plays
Saturday night,I was on the field, and we were playing Baylor. With two minutes left in the second quarter, we were ahead by a field goal. Coach wanted another touchdown before we hit the locker room. He wanted Baylor to feel defeated early on. I linedup on the offensive line while Casey walked behind our center for the snap.
I glanced into the stands, lit up under a clear desert sky. The heat stifled me, despite my sweat-soaked uniform and gear. If I could get past this fucking defensive end and get open, the ball was mine.
Casey called out to the team, and the center snapped the ball to him.
Sprinting like my life depended on it, my arms pumping, I easily sped past the defensive end and turned. Would Casey see me?
Locking his gaze on mine, Casey ticked his helmeted head, drew his arm back and then rifled off a spiral right at my chest.
“Perfect.” Snatching the ball from the air, I tucked it into my chest and ran, twirling past a defensive back and a safety, the end zone in my sights. Fuck, I might just make it. A thirty-yard touchdown.
A Baylor player sped up on my left and stretched for me.
Holding the ball out, I jumped toward the end zone, but my shoe snagged, and I fell, tucking the ball again and rolling across the grass, stopping on my stomach.
The crowd roared, and the announcer shouted. “Touchdown!”
“Hell fucking yes.” I did it, right? I lifted my head. Sometimes the review could take it away from me.
A lead weight fell on my back, knocking the wind out of me, and my hip pricked.
“Fuck, get off me.” I gripped the ball to my side as strong fingers attempted to pry it from me. “The play is over, asshole.”
“Are you sure? It isn’t over until the ref calls it.” The Baylor player struggled to pull the ball from me.
“It’s fucking over.” I looked to the sidelines. Where were the refs?
Holden wrinkled his brows and paced along the field.
“Get off him. Fuck.” Eli ripped the guy from my back andtossed him. “The refs threw a flag, dude. You got a penalty for your team, asshole.”
The Baylor player jumped up and tore his helmet off. “What? It was a fair ball. It hit the grass before he got to the goal line.”
“Dude, replay.” Eli pointed to the Jumbotron as the touchdown went into review.
Carefully, I sat on my ass, my knees raised and handed the ball to a ref walking by. Was I hurt? My hip ached.
“Come on, that was the touchdown Coach wanted. Let’s get off the field.” Eli extended his hand, and I grabbed it. He pulled me up.
I flinched as a second of pain rippled from my hip to the outside of my knee. The pain subsided the more I moved. “Walk it off, JJ. You got this,” I mumbled to myself.
Meeting me at the sideline, Holden grabbed my arm. “Are you alright? You’re limping a little.”
“No, I’m not.” I tore from his grasp. “I’m fine. Just stung for a second. It’s not hurting at all anymore.” Okay, I was lying. But I wouldn’t let fucking Holden take me out of the game. I ripped my helmet off and strode toward the cooler. I just needed to hydrate.
Cooper jogged to me. “Hey, man, are you okay?” His brows knitted.
Great.“I’m fine.” Glancing into the stands, my gaze landed on Myles, sitting with some of the hockey players and a boyfriend or some shit. My chest puffed. I scored in front of Myles. I poured a drink into a plastic cup.
“Are you sure? That fucker dropped on you like a rock. He must weigh three-hundred pounds.” Cooper looked me over. “And you were limping.”
“I’m not fucking limping.” I glanced at Holden, pursing his lips and watching me. He didn’t need to hear that.
As I gulped the Gatorade, Holden strode to me. “Come on, you won’t be on the field until after halftime. Let’s get you into the medical area where we can assess you.”
I turned and watched the kickoff. He was right. Unless we intercepted, the clock didn’t have enough time for the offensive line to go back out. But fuck if I’d leave the team now. I was fine. “No, I’m staying.” I glared at him.
With a sneer, he jabbed his finger into my chest. “Matthews, you’ll do as I say. I’m your trainer, and I’m telling you?—”
