Page 12 of Playing to Win
“If you say so.” Yep, there’s that doubt creeping in. I don’t know why it happens. My parents have believed in me ever since I can remember. My entire family is supportive. I’ve never let my insecurities get me down. Throughout high school, I was a total overachiever, both in class and in my extracurriculars. I love a schedule, staying busy, creating things, doing things.
But the moment I graduated high school and went away to college, I’ve felt…wayward. A little lost. Unsure of myself. I can’t explain why. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing here, if that makes any sense. What’s my purpose in life? Why are we expected to have our life plan in place at eighteen and know what we want for our future career?
Over two years have passed since I graduated high school and I’m still unsure as to what I want to be. What I want todo.I’ve changed my major twice already. I’m hoping I’ve zeroed in on something that will make me happy and give me purpose, but we’ll see.
We will see.
FIVE
ACE
“Can’t waitto see you play this weekend.” The attractive brunette with extraordinarily long, thick eyelashes clings to my arm as I try to walk.
Would it be rude to shake her off? Probably but damn, she’s making progress difficult.
“Thanks, babe.” I tug my arm away from her grip and she digs her nails into my skin, making me mutter, “ow.” Only when she hears me complain does she let me go. “Appreciate the support.”
I flee from her, my steps hurried as I hustle toward the student center, my stomach growling the closer I get to the quad. It’s like my body knows I’m about to feed it, and it doesn’t hurt that the scent of cooking food lingers in the air.
Lately I’m always hungry, but I blame our workout and practice schedule. It’s intense. Unrelenting. We’re out on the field when the sun is barely rising and we’re still out there when it sets. I don’t even want to think about how many hours I’m currently devoting to the gym, honing my body into the well-oiled machine it’s become, one of our trainers barking at us to do another rep. Just. One. More.
We work hard, we play hard and we’re ready for our first game this Saturday. And for the first time ever, our team is playing during week zero, which means an extra game has been added to our schedule.
Too bad it’s not at home, but we’re gonna make the best of it.
I can handle it. I’m the starting QB on the team and scouts have been frothing at the mouth discussing my potential lately, so I better be able to handle it. Though my number two is always nipping at my heels like an annoying little dog, constantly showing off for the coaches. Aaron Maloney is a giant pain in my ass and I finally understand why Camden Fields gave me constant shit.
God, I must’ve been so obnoxious and I didn’t even realize it. But I’m not gonna let anything get me down. I’m in the number one slot for a reason. Aaron is a freshman. He may have excellent passing skills and look damn good on the field, but he still lacks maturity. And while I would never describe myself as mature in the past, I act like a middle-aged man compared to that fool on the field. Aaron’s always goofing off, always here for a good time.
I love a good time. Iama good time, but I’m not an eighteen-year-old jackass with nothing to lose either. That’s how he acts every God damn day.
Again, I feel for Cam. I should text him an apology because this shit is hard.
“Yo, Townsend.” Derek calls from his usual spot at our usual table. He’s already got a tray in front of him piled high with food. “Come here.”
Derek is a defensive lineman and as solid as a brick wall. I’ve been tackled by him more than a few times in practice and it’s always rough, getting taken down by him. I swore he was a senior last year and would graduate with Knox and Cam, but turns out the joke’s on me and Derek is still here, tormenting me every chance he gets, but always good-naturedly with it.
Can’t complain. He’s a decent dude. An asset to the team.
I head for the table where he’s sitting and dump my backpack in an empty chair. “I’ll be back. Gotta get something before my stomach starts eating itself.”
Derek laughs. “I know the feeling, bro.”
I grab a cheeseburger and a giant basket of fries, plus a salad and a banana because I’m trying for a balanced meal, damn it. If any one of my coaches saw me right now, they’d be disappointed—the fries and packets of ketchup I grabbed would send them over the edge. They’ve been pushing us to eat a healthier diet and I try, man. I try hard.
But it’s difficult when all you crave is pizza at eleven o’clock at night. Plus, I work out like a crazed motherfucker. How much more balanced do I need to be?
Once I’ve made my purchase, I settle back in at our table, diving into my food with gusto. Derek keeps pace, both of us eating quietly, our focus on the plates in front of us versus the girls we can sense swarming on the periphery.
I can sense them at least. Not sure about Derek. He seems too focused on his lunch to worry about anything else, but I know those girls are there. Lingering. Waiting for a signal from me that will have them sitting at our table and begging for an ounce of our attention.
“Your groupies are growing,” Derek mutters out the side of his mouth after he polishes off his second cheeseburger.
Yep, he’s paying attention. “Don’t remind me.”
“You love it.”
Okay fine, I do love it, but sometimes I want a moment of peace and while I’m on campus? I never get it. These girls don’t understand that sometimes I just want to…be. Instead of dealing with the constant fangirling I can’t shake.
