Page 47 of Enemies Off Camera
Maybe sometimes I am. I tend to skip small formalities. It’s not that I don’t feel them—I just wasn’t raised to validate every moment with a “thank you” or a “you’re welcome.” I didn’t even notice that about myself until Jaxon kept pointing it out—during the show and after.
Still, he could be a little nicer about it. At least, that’s whatIthink.
“Got it,” he says gruffly, finishing his tutorial.
“Got it,” I echo, determined not to take his tone personally.
“Good.” He flashes a smile, like I, his newly minted student, just earned my first A.
I smile back. And suddenly, we’re caught in this moment—just... smiling at each other.
And here’s what I know, with certainty:
If we were a real couple, I would kiss him right now.
Right after he finishes licking his bottom lip like that…
He clears his throat and finally breaks eye contact. “Buckle up,” he says. “I’m taking you back through the game you slept through on Sunday night.”
THIRTY-SIX
Oh my God, I can hardly keep up—but seeing Jaxon up close and on the field makes staying awake so much easier. He’s like poetry in motion.
How did I not see that on Sunday night?
He explains every stoppage of play, meticulously breaking down false starts, simulated snaps meant to trick the offense into flinching, and exaggerated movements designed to bait a reaction.
I learn what the numbers mean—1st and 10, 2nd and 8, and so on. If they gain ten yards, they start over at first down again. That’s a good thing. Yay!
Jaxon keeps running the ball further than ten yards anyway. He’s really good. No wonder he’s so popular. A lot of people in the stands are wearing his jersey.
He shows me a holding call.
“Chauncy knows how to sneak ’em in without getting caught.”
He spends a lot of time walking me through Chauncy Boyd’s infraction. I can tell he’s irritated by Chauncy—but he respects him, too. He’s clearly itching for the chance to beat him, as he put it, “man-on-man.”
Time melts away as he explains a field goal and what distances are considered favorable. And how the defense kicks off when it’s the offense’s turn to take their 1st and 10 down the field.
So, in plain terms—Genesis actually did give me the gist of the game. All the offense has to do is make it to the opposite end of the field and score.
Jaxon goes quiet when he misses—what he calls—a perfectly thrown ball. His eyes flick up to the Jumbotron.
For the first time, the announcers say,“He could have some distractions in the stands today.”
And then there I am, caught on camera mid-bite, gobbling a shrimp po’ boy.
“Sorry,” I say. “I had no idea all this was going on during a game.”
“You’re forgiven,” he says, and winks at me.
I’m cheesing—and I wish I could stop, because he’s watching my face like it’s a movie screen.
“How’s your lesson so far?” he finally asks.
I think he’s proud of himself for keeping me interested in his game—his job, really.
“It’s going great. You’re a fantastic teacher.”
