Page 40 of The Golden Receiver

He was being a little too glib about this for my liking. “No,” I snapped. “I was too busy trying not to fuck up something else.”

Evander held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. You didn’t notice. No need to get grumpy with me.”

I wished I could tell him that I wasn’t being grumpy, but I was. I’d had a shit practice, and I was taking it out on him. Again. Maybe everything going on with the team was just karma for the way I let my bad mood get the better of me. Hell, wasn’t that what had happened during practice? I took a deep breath. I was going to be less of a dick. At least for this walk back to Karloff Hall.

“So, Willis was looking smug?”

“Like all of his Easters came early or whatever the saying is.”

“Christmases,” I corrected.

Evander smiled the kind of smile that lit up his face. I could see his eyes shining even in the dusk lighting. “Right. Like that then.” There was a bit of a skip in his step as we walked down the path back to Karloff Hall. “I’m pretty sure he thinks his cunning plan is working.”

“His cunning plan?” I questioned.

“Yeah. His cunning plan to take over your spot on the team,” he clarified. “You know he thought it was going to be him, right? I mean he had the spot on the first few test rosters, and he was also pretty much heir apparent after last season. I think he thinks he’s entitled to it.”

“Then he should play better.” So much for not sounding like a dick on the entire walk back to the dorm. At least this time it wasn’t directed toward Evander. It even seemed to amuse him, given the way he snorted.

“I think the same could be said about you,” he teased. I glowered at him, and he actually looked contrite. I guess there was a first for everything. “I’m sorry! Don’t hate me.”

The dramaticism of his pleading caused the smallest bubble of laughter to escape my lips. “I don’t hate you, and I do need to do better,” I admitted. “The last two days? It was all on me. I wasn’t playing well because my head was all over the place.”

He nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I think this is just something I’m going to have to figure out. I just know that Willis is not going to be looking so smug after this week’s game.”

I was nervous about Saturday’s game. It felt like a make it or break it kind of moment. Like one of those things that if I messed it up, I was going to mess up everything.

When I got into the locker room before warm up, Evander came over and helpfully let me know that I had that sour smell to me again. He sounded concerned, but there was nothing he could do about it. If that sour smell was anxiety and nerves, then it made sense that it was filling the area around me. My stomach was in knots, and all I could think of was the fact that I was going to blow everything.

Evander took my lack of an answer as an invitation for distraction, and he began chatting. “Did I tell you that Kali and Luke are watching tonight? Probably a bunch of the younger pack members too.” He looked excited.

“So, you want us to make sure we play our asses off?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and I mean, tonight’s opponent? They’re not that great. I think we should kick their asses.” He reached into his locker and started pulling on his pads. “It’ll be a pretty easy game to get your head back on straight. Just don’t let other people get to you, okay?”

I wished it was that easy, but he sounded confident enough. And if we were going against an easy opponent, then maybe he was right. Maybe this would be the perfect game to get my mojo back. I nodded.

He kept talking while we finished getting ready. As we filed out of the locker room and onto the field, he leaned in to whisper one simple sentence that strangely put me at ease: “You smell less sour now.”

Less than an hour later, the whistle blew and the game started. The first play out of the gate had me catching a ball after a fifty-yard throw. I got another ten yards after the catch. It gave me the confidence I needed to really focus on the game. Evander was right. I needed to stop worrying about what everyone else was doing and focus on the things I could control. And the only thing I could control on that field was how I played.

I kept that mindset through the first quarter. By the end, we were up by three scores. I hadn’t scored, but I wasn’t concerned about that. I’d been playing well. I’d blocked a defender, which let Reyes run into the end zone, which led to the first points on the board. I was being a team player, and maybe, just maybe, the rest of the team would see that. Maybe they’d pick up on the fact that I was good for the team. I was a good player.

No.

I wasn’t going to think like that.

The other team didn’t score until the second drive of the second quarter. I’d been watching from the bench, and I was pretty impressed by the way their tight end had spun around one of our defenders to break through. He might have been playing against us, but I was a football fan first and foremost. I loved a good play.

I was in high spirits as we got near the end of the second quarter.

Which, of course, meant that everything had to turn to shit.

One minute, I was running a slant route down the field. The play Eric called meant that the ball would either come to me or Evander, depending on who could get open. The third wide receiver, Hopkins, was nearby. The other team’s cornerback was distracted by him at first. Hopkins fell back. I saw him just before the cornerback tackled me.

It was a clean tackle, but I did not have a clean landing. My ankle twisted underneath me, and I cried out. My ankle hurt like hell. I dared a look, and I was grateful that it didn’t look as bad as it felt.