Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Troy eyes me, his expression twisted up.
“What?” I ask.
“You realize you just went on a tangent about messing around with him, right?”
“No, I was saying someone should. Not me. Don’t make it weird.”
He glares playfully. “You already did.”
“Whatever, dude.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and when I pull it out, I see Mom’s calling. Not whom I was expecting, since Dad’s pretty much been nonstop lately due to the Combine week coming up. Maybe he got Mom to call on his behalf since I haven’t responded yet. Although, he knows I’m working.
“Interesting,” I say.
“That you’re taking calls while you’re on the job?”
“Oh, fuck.” I quickly tuck my phone back in my pocket.
“I’m only giving you hell, man. You think I never pulled that stuff on the job? Just don’t do it while you’re messing with shit.”
“Thanks, Troy. I appreciate your not reporting this back to the frat.” Troy laughs, but I have this tension in my gut. “Ugh. Dad’s so excited about next week.”
“It’s exciting,” Troy insists. “This is what you’ve been doing all this for, right?”
It should be. I’ve been incredibly fortunate when it comes to football.
But it’s been more than that. Since I was a kid, Dad and I have been a team, building me up, training constantly, working with the right trainers for this moment to happen. Now here it is, and…this is not how I thought I’d feel.
Troy must sense my hesitation because he says, “Ry?”
I scratch the back of my neck.
He stops what he’s doing and folds his arms. “Okay. I’ve noticed you get like this whenever I talk about the draft lately. What’s up?”
I hesitate. It’s not something I’ve talked to anyone about, but Troy has experience with all this. From what I’ve heard through guys on the team, he was a sure pick for a few colleges before his injury in high school.
“Maybe I’m just getting in my head too much, but…kind of having second thoughts about pro.”
“Really?”
“That was always the dream, and Dad threw his life into prepping me for it. Always supporting me a thousand percent. All hands on deck. But as much fun as it’s been playing for Peach State, I’m wondering if maybe I’ve done it and there are other parts of my life I want to explore.”
“I hear that. It was different for me since I was forced to step back from it, but I was on the same track. And life had other plans for me, I guess. Just know, if you’re wondering if there is a life besides football, I can assure you, there definitely is. And it can be really beautiful and a lot more chill.”
“Chill sounds nice right now,” I blurt out.
For my entire college career, it’s been go-go-go, training and traveling for games. When my life isn’t about winning and making “the dream” come true, I’ve been working toward my BS in exercise science or squeezing in fun with my fratbros. Now…working with my agent, and Dad being all gung-ho about what my options’ll be, I’m not as excited about the idea as I once was. Although, I’m scared to even say that out loud. Like I’m betraying the kid who wanted that and my dad who gave so much so I could live this dream.
“Could be the stress of next week,” Troy says. “Just get through the Combine and then see how you feel. Maybe you’ll get your spark back once you see who wants to draft you.”
“You could be right. And that’s another thing that concerns me. Because on the other side of it, there’s a chance I make a huge fuckup and wreck my life.”
“Eh, knowing you, you’ll probably fuck it up either way.”
As I laugh, Troy pats my arm. “If you ever want to talk about it more, I’m here, man.”
Given that I’ve been struggling with this on my own, it’s nice that Troy’s willing to hear me out.
I finish the rest of my shift, then head to the break room. I figure Mom and Dad are in the middle of dinner, so I call Mom since she’s always more likely to have her phone nearby.
“Hey, Ma. What’s up?”
“Oh, hey, sweetie.” I hear what sounds like a crowd in the background, which throws me.
“Did you guys go out to eat?” I ask, surprised since I can’t remember the last time they went to a restaurant.
“Oh, with who? Your dad?”
“Who else would it be with?”
She laughs. “No one. I’m having cocktails with friends.”
“Well, I can just call him. He’s overdue for a chat. He home?”
“Um…” She hesitates in a way that, again, throws me. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Everything okay?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“You called me, and now you’re out with friends and don’t know where Dad is.”
“I just—I’m sorry, I can’t really think straight. It’s been a week. I wanted to catch up with you a little. I know you must be excited about next week. But now’s not a great time. Let’s try and make something happen before your flight, though.”