Means a lot.
Despite everything that’s happened over the last few months, I feel pretty good right now.
Actually, I feel on top of the damn world.
The moment I walk into the apartment, I’m greeted by the loud roar of my friends and a couple of teammates. Caleb and Tony are there as well as Diego, who is grinning from ear to ear. A few other guys too, all dudes I’ve become close with over the last year. They’re all congratulating me and squeezing my shoulders. Someone slips a beer into my hand and I chug it, basking in their praise. They’re pumping me up and when I lock eyes with Diego, I reach for him and give him a bear hug.
“Excited for you, bro,” I tell him when we pull away from each other. “You’re on your way.”
“So are you,” he says with a grin, clanking his beer bottle against mine. “We’re on top of our game!”
“Literally,” Caleb says with a smile as he slaps hands first with Diego, then me. “You guys are making the rest of us look like chumps.”
“Never,” I say, and I mean every word. Glancing around the room, I take in the familiar faces of my teammates who’ve been with me this season. Some I’ve been with for years. Every one of them in this room I consider my friends. My brothers. “I need every single one of you out on that field. This isn’t the Eli show. Or the Diego show.”
Diego laughs and points at me. “Hell yeah!”
I can’t help but laugh too. We all do.
“We’re a team. And we all play an important part. We support each other. We get the job done.” I scan their faces, giving a firm nod before I take a giant swig from my beer then hold it above my head as if I’m about to offer a toast. “Now let’s celebrate and get fucked up!”
The roar in the room is deafening. Caleb calls in a giant pizza order, my treat. Tony leaves to buy more beer. Diego goes out on the patio to call Jocelyn and give her a better rundown on what’s going on.
Nothing might ever come out of this. Our NFL potential could come and go in the blink of an eye, but it’s fun to dream. Exciting to think about all the possibilities.
And that’s what I’m going to do tonight. I’m going to forget my troubles. Forget my worries. I’m going to get fucking drunk, and I’m going to eat fucking pizza until I feel like I’m going to burst.
Everything else can wait until tomorrow.
Twelve
Ava
We’re at the Bulldog game the Saturday before Halloween and we’re actually tailgating. It’s me and the girls—Hayden, Gracie and Jocelyn—and my parents, who aren’t at Jake’s game this Saturday because he has a bye week. Beck and Jos’s sister Addison are with us too. I guess they’re friends? I don’t know what’s going on, but I see the way Beck looks at Addie sometimes, and I wonder if he has a little crush.
I’ll have to ask him about it later.
Dad doesn’t make his beer butt chicken anymore. Instead, we’re having Mom’s “world famous” (quote from Dad) chicken wings. She marinates half of them in teriyaki sauce and the other half in spicy hot sauce overnight. Then Dad barbecues them, and I have to admit, they smell amazing. Usually I don’t like eating wings—a lot of work and mess for little reward—but Dad is so excited for us to try them, I’ll do it just to make him happy.
Hayden and Gracie always act a little starstruck around my father. Gracie admitted once she thought he was a total DILF and that’s just…ew. I can’t imagine my dad with anyone else but my mom. And those two still act like teenagers in love sometimes. When I was younger, I thought it was embarrassing.
Now I watch them and I feel sad. I think of Eli and how he ruined everything.
The jerk.
That I’m here tonight to watch him somehow feels wrong. I should boycott this game. Really I should be at some frat party in San Diego right now with my friends, flirting with a cute boy who won’t give me a bunch of shit for my life choices.
But Dad has box seat season tickets and we always have more than enough room in that thing to have lots of people come watch the game. My dad didn’t go to Fresno State, but because we live so close, he likes to support the team. Plus, they’re a D-1 school and maybe someday Beck will play here. Jake was always meant for greatness. Not that Beck isn’t a great player, because he so is. He just has a different attitude about football.
For Jake, it’s life. He took it seriously from the time he was six and started playing in the youth leagues. Beck has been playing just as long too, but he doesn’t live for it. Not like our big brother.
Eli has much the same attitude as Beck. He could give or take football, though playing for the Bulldogs through the years, I noticed he started to take it more seriously. He’s their leader this year, and he’s having the best season of his college career, which is perfect, considering he’s a senior. I’ve watched highlights on ESPN and YouTube. The boy is on fire. He’s throwing perfect s
pirals that land most of the time in Diego’s outstretched hands and it’s truly a sight to witness.
“Do you need any help, Mr. Callahan?” This comes from Gracie, who is currently watching my father with adoring eyes.
Oh boy.