Page 5 of Off Sides

Poppy gives me a headache. She bounced into Dasher’s home, and the change in Dasher was instant. He’s not happy, and he seemed dejected when she started pawing at me. I gently pushed her away, but she kept talking—for an hour. Dasher went upstairs and that was the last I saw of him last night.

I do know he needed sleep because his big game is today. This is his time to prove himself and I will be in the front row so to speak to witness his greatness. I’ve seen his stats, he’s good.

And yes, he has something to prove, and he’s going to do it.

Derek steps inside the penthouse, “are we heading out early?” I run my hand through my hair, “yes. I’d like to make sure things are in order.” I invited my team, including Poppy, to watch the game. I also gave in and will allow the producers that want to do a reality show about my business in to film as well.

It will keep people busy enough that I will be able to watch the game and be by myself. This might be a bad idea.

Derek and I ride the elevator down to the garage in silence. Not awkward silence, but it’s like he knows I’m trying to be more human and getting my stuff together.

“Big move with the camera crew,” he finally says as the doors to the elevator open. It’s out of my wheelhouse, but what is it the kids say these days? YOLO?

“Hopefully it will be alright,” I reply as I slide into the passenger seat, making a note to get out of there if it gets to be too much.

As we pull into the private parking garage at Desert Arena the air feels electric. Maybe it’s because it’s the opening game, maybe it’s because there’s already lots of people here. Or that’s just me getting ready to see Dasher play.

I know I shouldn’t be obsessing over a practically married man, but I can’t help it. I’ve never felt like this with anyone else.

8

Chapter 8

Dasher

The locker room is intense. It’s filled with sweat, dreams and my career on the line. If I don’t do well, I could find myself back on the market for another team. And how would that look to agents and scouts if I get cut? Not great, that’s for sure. I’m in the corner, trying to be invisible. I don’t want any pep talks disguised as “better win or else” warnings. Tyler sits to my left, headphones on, yet I can still hear his K Pop music. I won’t tell anyone though, to each their own. All I do is look at the floor, head in hands, trying to breathe. All around me is chaos, men changing, laughing, high fiving, while my chaos is in my head.

Poppy didn’t say anything to me when I left and that weighs on me. My brother once asked why I was still with her and lately I’ve been questioning it. When we first started dating inmiddle school, we were typical teenagers in love. We would go horseback riding, drive up and down the drag or sit at Taco Bell with our friends. Poppy was the sweetest girl I knew, everyone loved her. I was in love with her. As soon as I got a scholarship for football and being told my life was going places, she changed. It became all about looks, aesthetics, brands that would reach out to me. It became about posts, likes and engagement and less about us. If I tried to talk to her, she would wave me off like I was being difficult.

When I was drafted by the Fortune, you would have thought Poppy won the lottery and not me when I signed on the dotted line with my dream team.

I should have ended it right then and there, but I didn’t. I thought she’d chill out about how much I was going to be making, or how I could afford her dream house. In a way she has since finding her job. The job she wouldn’t have unless I told her that she wasn’t going to be sitting on her ass all day. She tried to fight me on that, but her parents got involved and she relented.

And to everyone’s surprise she loves it and I’m happy for her. But things still haven’t changed. Lately I’ve felt like a placeholder until someone richer comes along to sweep her off her feet. Someone like Raine. She definitely has a crush on him. I mean even I like him. He’s definitely richer than I ever will be. Poppy would be able to stay at home and do whatever she wants with his money.

I’m spiraling and I need to get my head in the game. The Poppy shit can come later.

On shaky knees, I stand, do a few stretches and get my uniform on. I actually turn around and marvel that I’m wearing a Fortune jersey. This feels right.

Tyler claps me on the shoulder pad, “looks good. Let’s do this!”

The room goes silent as Coach Hart steps into the center, “this is important game, but every game is important. The one thing that I want to say is that we win or lose as a team. One unit. Let’s go out there and show them that we’re not just show ponies at the betting table!”

The room erupts in cheers and everyone files out, crying out a war cry all the way through the tunnel. What surprises me is that as everyone walks by me, they all thump my shoulder, almost letting me know they got my back.

Tyler looks at me, “ready?” I nod and jog out next to him. When we file onto the field, the roar of the crowd is deafening. I almost can’t hear anything Tyler says to me. The other captains set up the drills and stretches to run through as I survey the crowd. Desert Arena is sold out, everyone here to see if I fail or I preserve. I find my parents in the fifth row right behind the line. I wave and they give me thumbs up along with huge smiles. At least two people will be happy with me even if we lose today.

Tyler joins me as I just take everything in, “I felt like that last year. I don’t think it ever gets old.” I nod at him, thanking him in a way because he gets why I’m gawking at everything.

Our attention turns to the visiting team, the San Antonio Rattlers. Fierce, sometimes they like to play dirty. Their quarterback is a veteran player. He’s in his fifth year and he seems to get better each year. I’m not worried about the offensive line because our defense is the top rated in the nation. I’m worried about their defense. Some of those guys look huge, like they could steamroll right over me.

Horn blows and we take to our perspective lines. The captains walk out to the field for the coin toss, so this is my time. I walk out with Bodie, a defensive lineman, Reggie, running back, and Ethan, cornerback. They’ve been on the team for a couple of years, except Bodie, he’s in his sixth year.

The head referee meets us in the middle; we shake hands with the Rattlers and then turn to the referee. “Heads or tails?” He asks us as we’re the home team. Bodie takes the lead, “heads.”

The quarter is tossed in the air and for a brief second the whole stadium is quiet. It’s so quiet I can almost hear Reggie’s heart beating in his chest. I’m sure it’s beating hard like mine is right now.

The quarter lands, “heads. Kick or receive?” Bodie turns to us and we just nod, “receive.” Time for me to get to work.