“This is only practice. On this field you’re just another stupid freshman—lower than shit. And no one has named you the quarterback yet.”
I stared him square in the eye. “They will.”
He shoved at Brett, pushing past. “Not if I kick your sorry punk ass so bad you can’t play anymore.”
He got within a foot of me before he was tackled to the ground, spewing more foul obscenities for everyone to hear.
The coach blew his whistle loudly, and everyone stopped. I noticed Matt standing in the background, observing me with a scowl. I sent a sarcastic wink in his direction, and he flipped me off.
“Jared, you’re excused to turn your gear in.”
“What?” he bellowed, rage mottling his face. “You’re kicking me off the team and not him?” He shoved a finger angrily in my direction.
“There’s a no fighting policy on this team,” the coach replied, standing his ground. “We know that there will occasionally be verbal disputes, but if you start throwing punches, you’re done. Now go turn in your gear.”
“I never hit him!” Jared yelled.
“You intended to. That’s enough. I decide what works for my offense, and I want you off my field right now. You can go on your own, or I will call security. What’s it going to be?”
I raised my eyebrows as I watched Coach Bell grow angrier. He was definitely intimidating, and as a burly ex-lineman himself, I certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to mess with him.
Jared apparently got the same impression, because he turned and strode toward the field exit. I didn’t miss Matt clapping him on the shoulder in sympathy as he walked past.
“Walker!” Coach hollered.
“Yes, sir?” I said, snapping to attention as if I’d joined the Marines.
“Hit the bleachers, son, and don’t stop running ‘til I tell you it’s okay!”
“Yes, sir!” I turned toward the stands. Damn, it was going to be a long night. Of course, I’d brought this on myself. Maybe a good exhausting run was exactly what I needed to adjust my attitude.
I couldn’t help it. My mind had been a jumble of turmoil ever since I’d been at the lake. I shouldn’t have made out with Jennifer, especially knowing any feelings of attraction I was having for her were most likely a direct result of her similarities to my dead girlfriend. Then I had to ask her out too, digging myself in deeper. She was going to think I was really into her.
If I was being honest, though, that wasn’t bugging me the most. No, the problem was the fact that Brittney had caught me practically mauling Jennifer in the bottom of the boat and she hadn’t seemed fazed by it for one second. She’d tried teasing me about it later, saying I certainly hadn’t wasted any time getting my groove back. I realized she must honestly feel absolutely nothing but friendship for me. Here I was driving myself insane with visions of her twisted in my arms, and she was laughing at me. I was starting to wonder if she even remembered our shared kiss.
It burned—burned so badly it left a sour taste. The other thing that annoyed me was I wasn’t sure when this had happened. Yes, I’d always thought Brittney attractive . . . okay, she was a knock out . . . but when did it become all about her? When did she become the primary thought in my head?
At night I would lie down in bed and stare at Nikki’s smiling picture. I’d purposely started allowing myself to relive my memories with her—no matter how painful—hoping to find her in my dreams again. Instead, Brittney was blazoned through them, sometimes in all-consuming, passionate scenes that awakened me—on more than one occasion—in a sweat. I could feel my vision of Nikki starting to slip away—an almost tangible feeling of loss—as if she were sliding right through my fingers. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted to hang onto her with both hands and keep her here beside me, forever in my thoughts. I knew it wasn’t possible. I knew our life together was
I stared him square in the eye. “They will.”
He shoved at Brett, pushing past. “Not if I kick your sorry punk ass so bad you can’t play anymore.”
He got within a foot of me before he was tackled to the ground, spewing more foul obscenities for everyone to hear.
The coach blew his whistle loudly, and everyone stopped. I noticed Matt standing in the background, observing me with a scowl. I sent a sarcastic wink in his direction, and he flipped me off.
“Jared, you’re excused to turn your gear in.”
“What?” he bellowed, rage mottling his face. “You’re kicking me off the team and not him?” He shoved a finger angrily in my direction.
“There’s a no fighting policy on this team,” the coach replied, standing his ground. “We know that there will occasionally be verbal disputes, but if you start throwing punches, you’re done. Now go turn in your gear.”
“I never hit him!” Jared yelled.
“You intended to. That’s enough. I decide what works for my offense, and I want you off my field right now. You can go on your own, or I will call security. What’s it going to be?”
I raised my eyebrows as I watched Coach Bell grow angrier. He was definitely intimidating, and as a burly ex-lineman himself, I certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to mess with him.
Jared apparently got the same impression, because he turned and strode toward the field exit. I didn’t miss Matt clapping him on the shoulder in sympathy as he walked past.
“Walker!” Coach hollered.
“Yes, sir?” I said, snapping to attention as if I’d joined the Marines.
“Hit the bleachers, son, and don’t stop running ‘til I tell you it’s okay!”
“Yes, sir!” I turned toward the stands. Damn, it was going to be a long night. Of course, I’d brought this on myself. Maybe a good exhausting run was exactly what I needed to adjust my attitude.
I couldn’t help it. My mind had been a jumble of turmoil ever since I’d been at the lake. I shouldn’t have made out with Jennifer, especially knowing any feelings of attraction I was having for her were most likely a direct result of her similarities to my dead girlfriend. Then I had to ask her out too, digging myself in deeper. She was going to think I was really into her.
If I was being honest, though, that wasn’t bugging me the most. No, the problem was the fact that Brittney had caught me practically mauling Jennifer in the bottom of the boat and she hadn’t seemed fazed by it for one second. She’d tried teasing me about it later, saying I certainly hadn’t wasted any time getting my groove back. I realized she must honestly feel absolutely nothing but friendship for me. Here I was driving myself insane with visions of her twisted in my arms, and she was laughing at me. I was starting to wonder if she even remembered our shared kiss.
It burned—burned so badly it left a sour taste. The other thing that annoyed me was I wasn’t sure when this had happened. Yes, I’d always thought Brittney attractive . . . okay, she was a knock out . . . but when did it become all about her? When did she become the primary thought in my head?
At night I would lie down in bed and stare at Nikki’s smiling picture. I’d purposely started allowing myself to relive my memories with her—no matter how painful—hoping to find her in my dreams again. Instead, Brittney was blazoned through them, sometimes in all-consuming, passionate scenes that awakened me—on more than one occasion—in a sweat. I could feel my vision of Nikki starting to slip away—an almost tangible feeling of loss—as if she were sliding right through my fingers. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted to hang onto her with both hands and keep her here beside me, forever in my thoughts. I knew it wasn’t possible. I knew our life together was
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