I get into position, one fist planted in the soft moist turf. You can do this, Norland. Focus. Focus. The sweat accumulates on the small of my back. My stomach knots into a painful ball.
I hear the slap of a foot against the ball, and play starts. I run and try to think of my training, of the plays, of my team.
Suddenly, I’m running and have no idea where the ball is. One of my teammates calls my name, and when I turn my head, I’m greeted with a three-hundred-pound tank rolling over me.
I fly back, and the ref blows the whistle. I don’t know why that guy sacked me, but I’m guessing it was an accident. I got in his way because I’m not paying attention.
“Choo okay?” Igor holds out a hand and pulls me up.
“Yeah.” I shake my head. “I just got a little turned around.”
He slaps my helmet. “Geet chor head out of your ass, Norland.”
We get into formation. My team is still in possession of the ball, which means I have to be ready. If the ball is passed to me, I have to catch it. There’re no more chances after this.
Our quarterback makes the call, and I run through the Turkeys’ defenses. I can’t believe it was so easy. The rush of a wide-open field takes over. I pump my legs and fly like the wind. I glance over my shoulder and spot the quarterback exactly where he should be. We make eye contact, and his arm winds back and then snaps.
I see the ball coming straight toward me.
And then…fuck. I’m out of the zone. Just like that, I’m hyperaware of the crowd yelling my name, cheering me on. The pain seeps into my chest, and I can’t breathe.
Wake up, Norland. Catch the damned ball. Catch it. I slow my pace and adjust my trajectory to make the catch and then—
Ooph! My body flies left, and I land with a thump on the grass. The pain shoots through my shoulder, ribs, and hip. I’m seeing stars, and in the back of my mind I hear the ref call the incomplete pass.
A large guy from the other team looms over me and holds out his hand to help me up. “You still breathing, dirtbag?”
“Yeah,” I groan, noting how I absolutely hate being run over by men who outweigh me by a hundred pounds. That fucking hurt.
He helps me up, and I thank him accordingly. “Dick.”
He chuckles and walks away. Meanwhile, my teammates are making nervous side glances. I think they know I was about to screw up that pass either way.
The coach blows his whistle for a timeout, which is highly unusual this early in the game. He calls me over.
Shit. He’s taking me out already? No. No. No. This is my dream. I’ve worked hard for this. I know I’m capable of spinning this plate.
I pop off my helmet and jog over, knowing the entire world is watching. An exaggeration. It’s probably only a million people if you count the cable subscribers.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Norland, I gotta pull you out.”
If I were him, I’d be making the same call. But I’m not him. I’m me. And this is my dream. I’ve got to fight. “Just give me one more shot, please. I can do this. I can get my head in the game.”
“Son, this isn’t about you. The team—”
“That’s why I’m begging to stay in. For them. They’ve stepped up for me, and I can’t go out failing them.” I mean it, too. “This is my dream, but that dream is helping my team go as far as it can.”
I look over Coach’s shoulder and spot Lara standing there with Fia in her arms. Lara looks worried. Fia looks like she always has—adorable. My heart melts. My two girls, I think proudly, feeling overcome with emotion. I love them. And they love me. I think? I’m not sure if babies can actually love.
“Coach, one more play, and if I screw up, I’ll take myself out of the game. No questions asked.”
Coach shakes his head. “Fine. Go.”
“One second.” I run past him toward the first row of bleachers.
“Dean, what are you doing?” Lara asks. The entire stadium is staring.
“I need Fia. Just for a second.” I set down my helmet and hold out my arms.
“But you’re in the middle of the game and—”
“Baby, please,” I command, flicking my hands so Lara will hand her over.
“Uh, okay…” Lara carefully lowers Fia in her pink onesie over the railing.
I take Fia’s warm tiny frame into my arms and instantly feel it: that wave of peacefulness and calm. This is what I needed. She’s the cure to my anxiety. She’s my reason for not giving up.
I kiss her sweet little cheek. “I love you, baby girl. Daddy’s going to make you proud and keep you safe. Always.” I hand her back to Lara, who’s all teary-eyed.