The Hardest Fall

We’d been dating for five months. Two months of that we’d spent apart, FaceTiming and texting non-stop over summer break, and everything seemed to be going well. She didn’t mind that I had to spend most of my time out on the field or in the gym because her own time was filled with classes, sorority meetings, and an internship. She was supportive, caring, and, well, truth be told, she had been completely unplanned.

My original plan had always been that I wasn’t going to date during my last year.

Focus on the game.

Sharpen your skills.

Be the best on the field.

Make the time to study.

Those were just a few of the things on my priority list, and a girlfriend wasn’t one of them. My plate was already full—actually, it was more than full; it was overflowing. With all I had going on—and I had a lot going on—I just didn’t have enough time left in the day to handle that kind of commitment. Eventually, despite my busy schedule, Vicky had managed to wiggle her way into my life, and to my complete surprise, I liked having her there. Seeing her after a long, tiring day wasn’t the hardest thing, and as far as I knew, she liked being with me even more.

In the past, when I was late for one of our dates because practice ran long or couldn’t go to a party because I had to sit my ass down and study, she never complained. She gave me calm (not always) and balance (again, not always), and I tried to give her whatever I had left to give of myself at the end of the day. To be fair, that might not sound like a lot, but she always told me I was more than enough, always said I made her happy and she couldn’t imagine being with someone else. I believed her—why wouldn’t I? She definitely didn’t mind having a boyfriend who was expected to be drafted in the top twenty, and I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t enjoy seeing her face light up with excitement and joy whenever the media talked about me. I wasn’t exactly planning on asking her if she wanted to come with me if I did indeed manage to get drafted at the end of the year, but she had hinted rather heavily a few times that she was game to travel wherever after graduation. So, I was thinking maybe if things kept going the way they were, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to ask her.

After talking to Vicky’s roommate and learning that she’d actually left for the party—hoping to find me there, I assumed—I finally left campus, mentally trying to prepare myself for the mess that was waiting for me at the house.

Surprisingly, the house didn’t seem to be as crowded as I’d feared. Instead of inviting the whole school, they just had the entire team packed into our three-story house. It was the team, the girlfriends of those players who had one, and just to balance everything out, some of the cheerleaders. So, it was still a madhouse, but on a smaller scale. I would have bet the only reason they were keeping it relatively small was their fear of Coach hearing about it.

I found JP trying to sweet-talk his way into a girl’s pants in the kitchen. “Have you seen Vicky around?” I asked as soon as I was close enough.

“Not yet. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. Where’ve you been, man? You missed the Madden tournament.” Before I could escape, he slapped his hand on my back. “Meet Leila before you disappear somewhere. She is the girl of my dreams. Girl of my dreams, meet my main man.”

I shook my head and watched the girl giggle into her red cup. “Hello, Dylan.”

JP pulled her back against his front and rounded his arm around her collarbone. He leaned down, ran his nose against her neck. “Let me have a taste. Then you can tell me all about what you’re planning to do to me.” Absentmindedly handing me her plastic cup, he proceeded to attack her lips with enthusiasm.

Leaving them alone, I checked out the living room, picking my way through couples making out in the hallway, then went down to the basement where things were moving a bit faster, and finally headed out to the backyard. She was nowhere to be found, so I sent her another text as I headed over to Chris and a few of the other guys before I went back in the house.

“Chris? Have you seen Vicky around? She’s supposed to be here, but I can’t seem to find her.”

“I just got here a few minutes ago. Have you checked inside?”

I sighed. “Yeah, not there. Didn’t see you at practice today—everything all right?” I asked when the other guys started to argue about the upcoming game.