“Yes, I did. They don’t have a program I want to study.”
“You’re going to the NFL, Liam. That’s the plan. Don’t you dare deviate now because you’re getting a little pussy and she wants you to stay around. Once you get to college the chicks will be spreading their legs every day for you if that’s what you want.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. When I open them again, he’s glaring at me. “This has nothing to do with Josie. I want to go to a school that is right for me, not you. Why can’t you understand that? Why can’t you support me? Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because you made me. I’m not going to Auburn.”
Sterling storms toward me, but I hold my ground. “In February, you will pick Auburn if you know what’s good for you.” He stalks away before I have a chance to say anything in rebuttal. I bang my fist against my head in frustration. Why can’t shit just be easy? It’s a fucking school for God sakes, nothing more, nothing less. Going to Auburn isn’t going to make or break my career in the NFL. Why can’t he see that?
I take a deep breath and walk out the house, pasting a ridiculous smile on my face. As soon as I step out, Josie is on the ground, running to me. I catch her mid-stride and bring her into my arms, burying my head in her neck. I hold her to me, with her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms over my shoulders.
“I heard him yelling,” she says, her voice muffled.
“Don’t worry about him,” I tell her as I put her down. As soon as I look into her eyes, I can see that it’s bothering her and it should. For all I know she’ll reconsider marrying me because of him. Fuck, I would. Who wants to marry someone whose family doesn’t accept you?
I hold her face in my hands, pressing my forehead against hers. “You can’t listen to him, Jojo. Promise me that you’ll never listen to a single thing that man says.”
“I promise, Liam.”
“Do you hear that crowd?” Mason yells at me before we leave the tunnel. This is it, our last game ever in high school. Mason is so close to breaking the state record for rushing yards. It’s going to happen in this game. It has to. I already broke the record for passing earlier, days after my Sports Illustrated cover came out.
“Yeah man, I hear it. Crazy, right?”
“There have to be more people than last year.”
We aren’t supposed to be out of the locker room yet but I needed to see things one last time before I slip my helmet on. I want to take it all in because this is it. After tonight, win or lose, it’s done and my life changes. I wish I could go back and make time stop. Makes everything slow down, but I can’t.
The smell of popcorn and hot dogs wafts through the air, making me hungry even though we had dinner already. We ate as a team, our last meal together. For some, we’ll never play together again, but for others they’ll move onto basketball and even baseball.
The band becomes louder as the clock ticks down. In just a
few minutes I’ll be running out of this tunnel and will either make history tonight or go home with a second place trophy. Sadly, for the other team, second place isn’t going to cut it.
I slap my girl’s ass as she passes by with her white, gold and red cheerleading skirt flipping up as she runs. She turns around and saunters up to me with that look in her eye. I know what she’s expecting and I plan to deliver, both on and off the field. Josie is everything I could ever want in partner, I just hate that I’m going to have to leave her. Not once have I considered schools close to home, mostly because of their coaching staff and records. I want to win when I’m at college. I want to be someone. If I stay close to home though, I can be with Josie. See her on the weekends once the season is over. Have her on campus with me. But my choice won’t keep me close to her. My only hope is that she’ll come with me wherever I go.
“You know how sexy I think you are when you bite your lip? You have this look in your eyes, Liam. Do you have plans for us later?” she whispers into my ear, pulling on my earlobe. My focus is now solely on her instead of the game as her hand sneaks under my t-shirt. There is nothing better than her skin against mine.
“Knock it off you two,” Mason teases us as he slaps me in the back of the head. “If you give him a stiffy during the game, some linebacker is going to break his pecker.”
We all start laughing. She kisses me goodbye, telling me to kick ass. She’s never, in the years we’ve been together, wished me good luck, just to kick ass.
I slip on my helmet just as we’re signaled to take the field. We run through the cheerleaders and the student body with pom poms in our face and hands slapping our backs. They’re pumped and ready for victory. Parents and fans are on their feet in the stands, yelling loudly.
Mason and I go off to the side and warm-up. We’ve done it this way for as long as I can remember, always together. We have a routine and we aren’t about to break it now. As we throw the ball back and forth, my chest tightens. It’s almost over and it hasn’t even begun yet.
Captains are called to center field for the coin toss. The other team wins, electing to defend first. Whatever they want, I’ll give it to them.
When the whistle blows, I take center with Mason on my left. The play is for him. He needs only one hundred yards to break the state record for rushing and I’m going to make sure that happens tonight. I have to make sure it happens for him. Our first play is a hand-off to him; he breaks the first tackle for a thirty-yard gain. I look at his dad and nod. I called him last night and asked that he help me keep track of Mason and he said he will after he thanked me for making sure his son gets the record. Mason’s my best friend. He deserves it.
Every play in the first half goes to Mason. We do this over and over until his dad holds up a sign showing 100 and I know. I call a time-out and hand Mason the ball and watch him jog it over to his dad. They hug and the fans go nuts because Mason Powell just set the state’s all-time leading rushing record with nine thousand five hundred and two. I dare anyone to try to break it.
As the clock ticks down, I stand behind center and look out over the field. I look to my right then left. My teammates all wait for the call. We’ve won this game. The other team can’t catch up. I squat and call out my cadence. When the ball touches my hand I drop back, one step, two step, three and take a knee. The second my knee touches the ground I’m tackled by everyone. I hold the ball to my chest. It’s my prized possession.
I’m hoisted onto shoulders and paraded around the field. The band is playing so loudly that they drown out the fans. I hold the ball high, pumping my fist into the night air. When I’m let down, I catch a five-foot nine brunette cheerleader in my arms. I drop my helmet, but not this pigskin, as I wrap her tightly in my arms.
“I’m so proud of you, Liam.”
I nod because in this moment I am proud even with all my misgivings. Maybe I just need some time away from football to get my head straight. Maybe it was just the pressure of the season that got to me and maybe Auburn isn’t such a bad choice after all.
“Next stop the NFL, Westbury,” someone says behind me, breaking my moment. The pressure never goes away, does it? It just stops for a brief moment.