Page 12 of 2-Point Conversion (Season of Change #5)

Pulling into my driveway, I put my car in Park, then crack open the beer bottle and toss it back. I figure I’ll pregame with the beer and then switch to the whiskey I bought on my way home from…

“Fuck.” I drop my head back to the headrest and close my eyes on a pained sigh thinking of Oscar.

My Oscar. Not my Oscar anymore. My stomach churns and my soul protests the thought that he doesn’t belong to me.

That I don’t belong to him. I do though.

I always will. Down to the marrow of my bones, I am his and he is mine.

But being together is dangerous. If tonight taught me anything, it’s that you can never protect yourself or your loved ones from the hate and toxicity that infects your fellow man.

I slam my hands against my steering wheel as I scream, “FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING HEACOCK!” I nearly jump out of my skin when someone knocks on my driver’s side window. “Jesus!”

“Nope, just me. Get out of the car, Brandon. It’s rude not to share alcohol with your bestie.

” Jenna steps back far enough to give me room to open my door, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pursed.

She’d be more intimidating if it wasn’t for the immense sadness that clouds her eyes or the noticeable tracks of tears on her cheeks.

Fucking Heacock.

I chug the rest of this bottle, place it back in the 6-pack carrier, and grab it and the paper bag with my whiskey. She takes the 6-pack, now a 5-pack, from me and heads up to my front porch. I didn’t even notice her car parked in front of my two-story house.

“Why are you here?” I ask, unlocking my front door and holding it open for her to enter.

She snorts with a shake of her head and holds up the beer. “I’m here to drown my sorrows with you.”

“Guilt,” I correct automatically.

“Guilt?” She stops just inside my living room, turning to me with a tilt of her head, her eyebrows drawn down. I chuckle, thinking she looks like a dog right now, but decide to keep that nugget to myself.

“I don’t want to do this, Jenna.”

“Tough shit. I want to, I need to. A member of our team was… why would they go after Phia? She’s so…

good ! She didn’t deserve this. No one does.

It’s a fucking game! Whether it brings in millions or not, it’s a game!

” Her tears start flowing again, her face red and blotchy, her chest heaving.

She drops to my couch and puts her head in her hands.

I sit next to her, placing my whiskey on the coffee table and take her into my arms.

“ It’s my fault ,” I finally force myself to whisper.

“What?” Her neck arches as she looks up at me from where she’s resting against my chest. “How is this your fault?”

Feeling restless, I push her back and stand up. I begin manically pacing, which reminds me of Oscar’s apartment and the devastation on his face when I…

“I knew he was going to do something drastic. Heacock’s been gearing up for something big since last season.

He’s been louder, combative, argumentative…

more than usual.” I add when she raises an eyebrow in question.

“You remember what he was like in that board meeting about Phia. Anger was a wildly inappropriate response. Then in his office last week with Abbott.” Jenna’s face flushes, her eyes dropping, but she looks back up at me a second later.

“Everyone knows he’s becoming unhinged, but I didn’t think he’d…

I should have known. I had the chance to…

I didn’t act and now others are paying for my inaction, my cowardice.

He dragged good players into this, turning Yanok and Chester into violent criminals.

The university has dragged their feet, worrying more about a wrongful termination lawsuit than recognizing what that man is actually capable of.

Attempted murder! Bigotry, manipulation, bribery…

and I’m sure a whole fuck of a lot we don’t know about.

He’s hurt too many with his words, but this time he went after someone’s life!

How do I just…how do I not feel responsible for this?

I could have ended him, and I chickened out.

I tried to be a good man in a fucked-up world and look where it got us?

Phia? Prib? And those boys, their entire future now forfeit because of blind loyalty to a man who would sell their souls for another championship! ”

Jenna stands from the couch and stops in front of me.

Tears fall from my eyes as I picture Oscar not long ago.

Jenna wraps her slender arms around me and hugs me tightly.

She pats my back, shushes me when I can’t hold back my sobs.

Rocking us back and forth, I murmur, “You’re such a good friend, Jenna. ”

“I know.” She replies, leans back and slaps me right across the face! I cup the tender flesh, staring at her in shock. “Are you fucking stupid?”

“Excuse me? You just hit me!”

“I did. And I’ll do it again if I need to.

What the fuck is wrong with you? None of this, not a single fucking part of it, is your fault, you ninny!

And you taking it on as if you’re the guilty party is just dumb.

Heacock is a grown ass man. Every board member that supported him are grown-ass adults.

You are NOT the only one with a front row seat to Heacock’s transformation into World’s Greatest Villain, nor did you buy him the mug!

Everyone is responsible for what happened to Phia, and yet, the only one who should truly bear the guilt, the weight of his actions is Fred fucking Heacock.

” She’s breathing heavily while my face throbs a little.

Slumping onto the couch, I cover my face with my hands and force myself to breathe evenly. I know she’s right. I know Oscar is right. Intellectually, I know I am not at fault. But emotionally…in my gut, it’s hard not to feel like that. “They are my players, my students, my friends .”

“And that’s the bitch of it.” She sits down next to me and leans her head on my shoulder.

“No matter how much we care about someone, love someone , we have to accept that we are not in control of their destiny or our own. All we can do is react to what life throws at us and try to shield each other where we can.”

“It hurts. So much.”

“I imagine it does. Stupidity is often painful, usually more so for those of us forced to deal with it.” I snap my gaze to her at her pointed words. She’s scowling at me, looking mighty fierce. I’ve never been on the receiving end of her “coach” expression. Not a fan.

“Shut down the pity party, man up, and apologize to your boyfriend.” I sit upright, my jaw somewhere near my knees.

“What? You know?”

“Unlike you, I ain’t dumb.” Shaking her head as if I’m a disappointment to her, she pins me with a hard stare.

“I’m gonna guess, you took these tragic events, spun it to be your fault, and put distance between you and the man you love.

What you should be doing is using this as a reminder that when you find someone like Oscar, you fight tooth and nail to keep him.

Because I guarantee that’s what Prib and Phia are doing, they aren’t running scared, they’re fighting.

You don’t wallow in self-pity. You wanna be pusillanimous, then you don’t deserve that man. ”

“Pusill—what?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs a beer, cracks it open and takes a large sip. “To be a coward, it’s where the phrase, ‘Don’t be a pussy’ comes from.”

“Oh. I thought it was, you know, the vagina.”

“Common misconception. Mainly because men are afraid of the vagina and its strength. And have adopted the phrase to imply that women are lesser, fragile creatures. You ever seen a man with kidney stones?” I nod, wincing when I remember when my dad had them years ago.

“Ain’t nothing to having your vagina stretched to over 13 inches on average to push a motherfucking human they grew inside their bodies while still taking care of the punk ass father who put it there. ”

“Jenna?” I’m surprised by the vehemence of her very specific statement. She does not have any children and has never been married.

“Sorry. Not a fan of my dad. And a little terrified for if/when I have my own children because big heads run in our family.”

With a soft smile, I pull her against my chest and rest my cheek on the top of her head. “I can just picture you running around with a big ol’ head, having trouble staying balanced from being top heavy.” I muse, “Your brain is an interesting place.”

“It is. I’m awesome. Superb. Everyone knows that. Now, what are you gonna do?”

It isn’t too late. I fucked up, but not enough to lose him.

Oscar is the best person I know and understanding, forgiving, and beautiful.

Won’t hurt to grovel though. “I’m gonna text Oscar that I’m safe, I’m incredibly, deeply sorry, and that you and I will meet him for breakfast in the morning.

” Shifting, I pull my phone out of my back pocket and pull up my text thread with him.

“And then I’m gonna hang out with one of my best friends.

We’re gonna console each other and lament the shitty nature of human beings. And drink…copious amounts of alcohol.”

She pats my chest, looking up at me with a smirk. “Now that we have dick in common, I’ll even let you braid my hair while we debate the pros and cons of girth and length.”