Page 97 of Playbook
Taking a long drink of water, I scan the stadium behind me while our defensive team is on the field.
My gaze is drawn to the spot where London sits with Alec and her best friend Paige. I can’t make out their expressions, but I can feel London looking this way.
I waggle my fingers at her, feeling a shot of adrenaline when she returns the gesture.
It feels so good having her here, but I wish I were out there playing instead of standing on the sideline.
Turning back around, I walk over to Coach.
He side-eyes me, keeping his attention mostly on the field. “How are youfeeling, Six?”
I dislocated my thumb during warmups. I caught a ball at just the right spot and that was that. I’m fine. The trainers wrapped it and I took some throws to make sure I’m solid. Still, Coach has been playing me sparingly to give me more rest and to not risk injuring it further.
We’ve had a lot of injuries already this season. Football is a tough sport. Two of our top defensive tackles got injured in last week’s game and then both Archer and Merrick were given sit out orders for today from the team doc. Arch with his nagging ankle sprain that seems to flare-up every time he’s cleared, and Merrick with the flu so bad he’s been in bed for two days.
It’s early in the season and no one wants to risk a setback that will put our playoffs chances in jeopardy, but the result is we’re moving people around and not meshing like we should.
I bounce on the balls of my feet, hands resting at the neck of my jersey and pads. “Good. Ready.”
It’s the fourth quarter and we’re down by thirteen. It kills me not to be out there contributing.
“You look like you have ants in your pants.” One of his gray brows rises.
“I want to play. Put me in. I’m fine.” There’s so much tape on my hand, nothing is moving. Not even if a three-hundred-pound defensive tackle lands on it.
“There’s only a few minutes left. There’s no reason to risk it.”
“Come on, Coach. My girlfriend’s here. She’s gonna think I’m a bench warmer.”
His mouth curves. “Oh well, since your girlfriend’s here…”
For a second, I don’t realize he’s fucking with me.
“Put me in. I’ll get us within six.”
A timeout is called by San Francisco.
“I admire your determination,” he says. “You’ve been playing well, and you seem to be finding a groove and staying out of trouble. But for tonight, your girlfriend is going to have to admire your handsome face more than your skills on the field.”
“Fine.” I huff. “You’re lucky I have such a handsome face though.”
He shakes his head as his smile turns back to a thin line and he focuses on the game.
I dress quickly and head out to the family waiting area. Guys with wives and kids or other family in attendance fill the room. I watch moms and dads embrace their sons. The atmosphere is somber, probably because of the loss, but it’s plain to see how much these parents love them regardless of the outcome of the game.
Sometimes it just hits me how much of that I missed out on. I don’t think my parents have watched me play a single game and if they did, there weren’t after-game hugs or words of encouragement.
A little girl wearing a Mavericks jersey nearly takes me out as she darts in front of me for her father. My teammate, Slade, scoops her up and nuzzles into her little neck. I smile at them, wondering what that would be like. It seems nice.
At the back of the room, I finally spot London. Her friends are still with her. London steps forward slowly as I approach. She seems to hesitate like she isn’t sure what to do, but as soon as I wrap my arms around her, she does the same.
“I’m sorry about the game,” she says when we pull apart. “How’s your thumb?”
“Fine. Disappointed like the rest of me. Glad you guys came though. Sorry we didn’t get you a win.” I nod my head to Alec. “Hey, good to see you again.”
He dips his chin back. “You too. Tough loss.”
I finally let my stare linger on the woman I know is London’s best friend.
