Page 10 of Comeback
Olivia snorts. “That is the downfall of kids. They’re cute, but damn do they get up early.”
“Don’t they know how wonderful sleeping is?”
She shakes her head, making her ash blonde ponytail sway with the motion. “No. They act like it’s punishment or something. Greer climbed into bed with me this morning at five.”
I don’t know how Olivia does it. She works two jobs, managing her family’s bookstore during the day and working at Lilac Lounge a few nights a week, and still somehow manages to take care of Greer without ever complaining about her lack of sleep.
“If only.”
“What are you up to today?”
“I thought I’d look for apartments and studio space. Maybe hit up Brogan and see if he wants to grab lunch or something. Assuming he isn’t with Archer,” I grumble the last part.
Her smile hitches up on one side. “How is your brother and his hot, jerk best friend?”
A laugh leaves my lips despite the swirling of anxiety in my stomach. It’s been two days since the party, and I still get hot all over when I think back to some of the things Archer said to me. Hot jerk is exactly the right way to describe him.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from them.” I will admit I did expect Brogan to reach out sooner. Before I left, we were texting daily. Random things mostly, a funny video or just checking in.
Olivia must sense my disappointment because her smile softens.
“I’m sure he’s dying to hear from you. He probably has a bunch of football things this week.” She waves her hand around like she isn’t sure what those things are, but she’s sure they exist.
“You’re probably right.” I know he’s busy and I don’t expect him to adjust his entire schedule just because I’m back in town, but I missed him. So much I’m willing to put myself in the line of fire. Because where Brogan is, Archer is surely nearby.
4
ARCHER
“You’re up, Holland.” Our receiver coach, Drew, gives me a nod.
We’re doing a light position practice this afternoon. Cody, our quarterback, is throwing high passes to me and the rest of the receivers while we run deep routes. The sun is high and bright in the sky, making it difficult to track the ball.
I step up to the line and wait for the signal, then I’m off, sprinting from the fifty-yard line.
When I was little, I dreamed of scoring touchdowns.
I spent a lot of long, hot summer days running and practicing footwork to get by defenders. I studied my heroes and made my brothers toss passes to me until they were bored and tired—high, low, short, long. I wanted it, and I worked hard. I’d fall asleep at night imagining the fans screaming my name.
Football is an unforgiving sport. Everything has to align perfectly. The perfect throw at exactly the right speed and right time with defenders ready to slam the quarterback or receiver into the ground. The impossibility of it all makes each connected pass this beautiful thing I’ll never take for granted. And when I cross into the end zone, some part of me still remembers that little kid who dreamed of this moment.
Even if it’s just practice and there aren’t any fans screaming my name.
Besides, if there were, I wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway.
Life has a funny way of giving you what you want, only for you to realize it’s not anything like you imagined.
We continue until everyone has gone a dozen times or more, then switch to footwork and agility drills.
“That’s it for today,” Coach Drew says after we’re done. He’s good about facing me so I can read his lips when he talks, but he repeats it when I get close.
I nod to show I understand.
The rest of my teammates are already heading for the sideline as I continue to catch my breath. We’re coming off our last preseason game. The final roster is in place, and it’s time to get to work. There’s something magical about the start of a new season. Especially this year. I struggled with injuries my entire rookie season. I played fewer games last year than I have since I started playing football as a kid.
I’m ready to show the coaches and fans what I’m capable of. The ankle is feeling better, and the work I put in, lifting weights, training around my injury, is finally paying off.
Pulling off my helmet, I walk at the back of the group as we make our way to the locker room. Exhausted and sweaty, but in the best possible way.
