Page 2

Story: The Riskiest Move

CHAPTER 2

GRIFFIN

T here are just over two minutes left in the game, the score is tied, and we have possession of the ball. We also have a kickass quarterback who excels at the two-minute drill.

We run the ball on the first three plays, trying to eat up as much time on the clock as possible while also being careful not to turn the ball over. It’s a fine balance between ensuring we have time to score yet not leaving their offense time to return to the field and do the same.

We get the first down on the next play, and now we’ve put ourselves in the position to have four more opportunities to score.

Rogan settles behind center once more, his eyes scanning the defense. He barks out the signals, his voice carrying over the thunderous noise in the stadium. The ball is snapped, and time seems to slow down.

Rogan drops back, his movements fluid and practiced. He dodges a rushing linebacker, spinning away with a grace that belies his size, while I run my designated route.

His arm draws back before he launches the ball forward. The pigskin spirals through the air, a perfect arc that seems to hang suspended and defy gravity before it drops into my arms like magic. Clutching it to my chest, my stride never lets up as I run into the end zone untouched.

The stadium erupts with a deafening roar of approval. I bask in the sounds of celebration as my teammates high-five me and each other.

Rogan pumps his fist and runs over to meet me. We jump into the air, bumping chests together, and then he quickly holds a couple of his fingers up, signaling we’re going for the two-point conversion.

Rogan’s confidence is infectious as he settles back into position, a slight smirk on his lips. He loves this game just as much as I do.

When the ball is snapped, he fakes handing it off to our running back. The defense falls for it, allowing Cooper, our big rookie tight end, to find a gap in their zone coverage.

Rogan’s pass perfectly threads the needle between two defenders before Cooper snatches it right out of the air, planting both of his feet flat in the end zone. Yes!

Now, even if they can get a touchdown, they’ll need the two-point conversion to tie the game. We successfully made getting the victory that much more difficult for them. But I still nervously watch every move our defense makes as the clock counts down, and only when the time has run out, do I dare breathe easily.

Our opponent being one of our division rivals, this win was crucial.

The locker room celebration seems as loud as the crowd in the stands were. I set my helmet on the top shelf in my locker, then drop onto the wooden bench, exhausted. Wrestling with my jersey and pads, I finally get them off and then get to work removing my cleats.

“Dude, what a fucking game,” Thor Sorensen, the team center, says as he sits down next to me. He chugs water from the bottle in his hand until it’s empty.

“Yeah, it was a little too close for comfort, but we got the W, so it’s all good,” I agree.

Rogan drops onto the bench on my other side with a tired groan. “God, I’m glad that ended the way it did.”

“It would’ve sucked if those dickheads had beat us,” Thor notes, pointing out the obvious.

“We’re bound to see them in the playoffs,” I add.

“Why do you three look so depressed? We just won,” Cooper says, filling in the open spot beside Thor.

“I’m happy, but I wish we’d played better,” I explain.

Rogan nods. “I think that sums up how we’re all feeling.”

Cooper shrugs. “We’ll just have to make sure we turn it on when we meet them in the playoffs because they’re going to come ready to beat our asses.”

“If only it were that easy,” Rogan says.

Thor tosses his empty water bottle in the trash without leaving the bench. “Enough about the game. We won and we might as well enjoy it while we can before Coach Chubb tells us to move on to preparing for next week.”

“You’re right,” I agree.

“What are you guys doing for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?” Cooper asks.

“I’m supposed to go to North Carolina and meet my new stepmom and new stepsister but I told my dad I’m staying home.”

“I bet that went over well,” Thor says, smirking.

“You know how my dad is. He was pissed, but I tried to explain I don’t feel like having to take a road trip when we don’t get much time off.”

“That’s why I’m not going anywhere either,” Rogan says. “If we have a couple of days without practice, I plan to relax and spend as much time with Autumn as I can.” Autumn is his girlfriend and also happens to be the social media manager for the team.

“Don’t forget about the New Year’s Eve party at my place,” I remind them.

“We’ll be there,” Cooper says.

“First, we have to get through our next game,” Thor says.

“No, first we need to get through the holidays,” Rogan corrects.

I nod. “Yes, we do. And I plan to mimic a bear and hibernate as much as possible. A quiet Christmas sounds like just what I need.”

E.Z. wakes me by kneading my bare chest with his paws before he jumps down to the floor. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. “That was a great nap,” I tell him, rising from the couch. He meows, as if he’s agreeing with me. I know he’s enjoyed having me home the last two days. We’ve laid around together, taken naps, and for the most part, been a couple of lazy slugs. Which is the norm for E.Z. He might be the laziest, most spoiled cat in existence.

My doorbell rings, prompting me to glance at the clock. It’s two in the afternoon, and I’m not expecting anyone. Maybe it’s one of the guys, surprising me. I hope they brought me something to eat. I’m starving.

I head to the door, yanking it open without hesitation. The cold air hitting my bare skin is a shock to my system, but not as much as seeing my dad standing there. “Dad?”

He grins. “Surprise!” Standing next to him is a middle-aged blonde woman who must be my new stepmom. “Can we come in?” he asks, his breath visible. “It’s cold out here.”

“Yeah, sure.” I snap to action, stepping back and allowing them room to pass by me. I’m about to close the door when a soft voice calls out, “Wait, please.” I pull it open wide and find a twenty-something brunette hurrying up my front steps. Once she’s inside, I shut out the unwelcome cold air, clicking the lock in place. Turning around, I find three pairs of eyes on me.

“This is a surprise,” I say, scratching my stomach. “I would’ve been dressed had I known you were coming.” I gesture to my flannel pajama bottoms.

“No worries, son. We wanted to surprise you,” Dad says. “You said you couldn’t come home for the holidays, so we brought Christmas to you.”

Say what?

“This is your stepmom, Shirley, and your stepsister, Christine. I thought it was time for everyone to get to know each other.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say, barely giving them more than a cursory glance. “Dad, this isn’t the best time to show up unannounced.”

For the record, there is no good time.

“Nonsense, son. You’ll barely know we’re here. Come help me carry our things in,” he says, leaving no room for arguing. As usual, my father comes in like a bulldozer, running right over me and my plans for a quiet holiday season.

I follow him to the door, tugging a hoodie over my head and shoving my feet into a pair of slides before stepping outside. “Dad, I’ve got practice this week and a game on Sunday. I can’t afford any distractions.”

“We’re here now, son, and we’re not leaving until next week.” He laughs.

Goddammit.

Gritting my teeth together with frustration, I drag the cold air in through my nostrils and bite back my argument. Saying anything is useless and will only make things uncomfortable between us.

My dad has never been someone to think about what other people want. At least not since my mom passed away eight years ago. Since then, Dad and I mostly disagree about anything and everything. Saying we’ve had a contentious relationship would be an understatement.

Mom was the piece that held our family puzzle in place, and without her, we’ve become jagged edges that can’t seem to fit together.

It takes us six trips back and forth to get everyone’s bags inside. My stepsister is moving in with me two weeks earlier than planned, and Dad forgot to mention that information when we spoke last week. Not only am I not getting the quiet holidays I imagined, I’m going to be stuck with an unwanted roommate for the next five months. Fuck my life .