Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

I climbed into my car and slammed the door shut. What now? I didn't want to go home. I could, it made the most sense, but I felt like that wasn't what I was supposed to do just then. The news was taking a little while to settle. I was happy, but I couldn't believe my luck. I knew for a fact that it didn't usually happen like this.

The pressure was on. If I had this chance, I had to show that it was because I deserved it. I never got nervous about football, but suddenly, I was. I knew I could perform, but I also knew I had to get this right in order get me where I wanted to be by next year, hell, maybe even regular season this year.

I had to tell Ron.

The thought flashed through me like second nature. I had to tell her. I was excited and wanted to tell someone but I didn't just want to tell anyone. We had always shared what was happening in our lives together, but hadn't in a long time. I had stopped telling her things when I got my warning order for my deployment a year ago. That had been the thing that fucked us up – me, keeping my mouth shut when I should have fucking said something. Then when I had chosen to say something, it had been the wrong thing.

I wasn’t making that mistake again. I pulled my phone out and called her. I remembered she was taking summer classes, so there was a chance she was actually on campus.

"Hello?"

"Babe? Hey, where are you right now?"

"Home. Why? Where are you?"

"Can I come over?" I could see her in her apartment, stretched out on her couch reading or at that dining table studying. What was she like as a roommate? I wondered idly. We had never lived together, but I was curious.

She said that I could, she wasn't busy. The drive to her place took no time. Her footsteps on the other side of the door at my knock were audible as she came up and unlocked it. A smile broke across her face when she saw me.

"Hey," she said. Her arms went around my neck and she kissed me. This was normal. This was us, close and familiar; it just hadn't been in a long time so having it again felt sort of like a novelty.

"Hi," I said, as she let me in. "What are you up to?"

"Cooking. I just got a slow cooker, and I wanted to try it out for dinner tonight. Where are you coming from?"

"School," I told her. "I had a meeting today."

"Meeting? Who with?" she asked, sitting on her couch. I followed and sat next to her.

"Coach Fitz." Her brows went up.

"What about?"

"Football. He wanted to know what my next move was, what I wanted."

"That's to go pro, right?"

"Right. I thought if anyone could help, he could. He would know better than anyone what my skill level was, I figured he'd be the best place to start so I could get back into playing."

"Are you going to be playing for the school? How would that work?" I shook my head.

"I'd have to re-enroll for that and get my degree. No, we talked about how I'd probably be drafted by now if I hadn't gone overseas."

"Can it still happen?"

"He actually said he had a contact that could get me into the combine next month."

"Next month? That's so soon. Can you do that?"

"He can," I said shrugging. "Depending on who sees me play, I might end up lucky enough to get scouted."

"That means you're going," she said, as a statement, not a question.

"I want to, yeah. I can't miss out on something like this. The longer I wait, the harder it'll be to get in the league early enough to have a long career."

"How long would you be gone?"

"About a week. What do you think?"