The Relationship Pact: Kings of Football

by Locke, Adriana

  I sit down beside her. My body calms, and my brain slows down from the race it’s been running all day.

  She leans toward me, her voice low and pain-filled. “The worst time of my life—the time I wasn’t sure I could make it—is when I lost my Ronnie. Our house just burned down, and one of our sons had passed away from colon cancer.” Her voice breaks. “And he collapsed in my living room, and I couldn’t do anything for him. I called the paramedics, and they came, but he was gone. Took his last breaths in my arms.”

  Fuck.

  She takes a handkerchief from her purse and dabs her eye.

  “Hey, now,” I say, pulling her into me. “Don’t cry. One of us has to be tough today.”

  Judy chuckles and sits back up. She sniffles.

  “It still hurts,” she tells me. “Every day, I think about him. I miss him so much that I think I’ll lose my mind someday over it. I work at this age because, if I don’t stay busy, I sit at home and cry.”

  “Judy,” I say, my heart breaking.

  “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not a single day of it. I’d live for another hundred years and miss him like this if I had to give up the years we had together.” She smiles sadly at me. “We weren’t put on this earth to be alone, sweet boy.”

  “Yeah …”

  My spirits sink. She makes so much sense, but it’s so much of a risk. There’s too much of a risk.

  “You have so much love to give,” she says, looking me earnestly in the eye. “And you have a big old hole right here,” she says, patting my chest with her old, wrinkly hand, “for someone to fill up. Now, I have every intention of helping scoop some love in there for you. But I’m a slow scooper.”

  I laugh, holding her hand to me. “You scoop just fine.”

  “So does someone else I know.”

  I blow out a breath as she withdraws her hand.

  “Look, you’re going to be miserable either way,” she says, speaking frankly. “And I guarantee you that Larissa is as distraught as you are. So be miserable together. It’s better than being miserable alone. And if it doesn’t work out, then it wasn’t the door for you.” She leans toward me and whispers. “But I’m pretty sure it is.”

  We look up as a head pops around the door. A bald man walks in.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. But, Judy, Lincoln asked me to take you to your seat. Hollis, are you ready?” he asks.

  I nod.

  Judy gets to her feet with my assistance. She motions for me to bend down. When I do, she kisses my cheek again, squeezing the other side of my face in the process.

  “Don’t be scared,” she whispers. “Grandma is with you.”

  She lets go of me and walks out with the usher.

  I take in a deep breath and feel my heart start to pound.

  So much of what she said made sense. Victory is so much sweeter when you have to work for it.

  But is that what this is with Larissa? Me working for it?

  I pace around the room, mulling over what Judy said.

  What if I fuck it all up? What if she walks away when she sees how messed up I am? What if she can’t handle me when I can’t sleep for days at a time because I have nightmares? Will she be embarrassed when we go places, and I never have anyone in the stands for me?

  Warmth fills me when I realize that Judy will be out there today.

  Someone will be here for me.

  I scrub a hand down my face. Panic starts to set in.

  I would never want Larissa to think I wasn’t there for her.

  But … you’re not, Hudson. She’s in pain right now—pain that you caused by being a total jerk—and she’s alone.

  And you made her alone. You pushed her away.

  Sweat dots my brows as I pace the room. I dig my phone out of my pocket and find her number. I don’t know how this will work out, or if she’ll even talk to me. Maybe she’ll say she’s had enough of me, but I have to try. She has to know that I love her.

  My stomach drops.

  The phone rings—once, twice, three times.

  “Pick up,” I plead. “Pick up, Riss.”

  The line clicks. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not availab—”

  Her voice is a balm and buckshot.

  I end the call.

  Me: Riss, if you’re avoiding me, I get it. I understand. Please answer.

  I wait for a response.

  Nothing.

  “Hollis,” the usher says, reappearing out of nowhere. “We’re just about ready.”

  “I’m coming. Yeah. Sorry.” I walk toward the door.

  Me: I’m so sorry. I was a dick.

  “This way, please,” the usher tells me.

  I don’t want to be here. I need to find her. I have to fix this.

  I can’t walk away from her.

  Judy is right. Larissa is everything.

  I want her to be mine.

  She is mine.

  Damn it.

  We approach the large black curtains that separate the back of the stage with the audience out front. Someone drones on about their experiences, and I tune them out.

  I punch her number again.

  My foot taps against the floor as I listen to the line ring.

  Pick up, Riss. Pick up, baby.

  My stomach churns.

  I’m so sorry.

  “Hollis Hudson!” Lincoln’s voice saying my name in the mic grabs my attention.

  Shit.

  The line picks up, and my heart jumps in my chest. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not available. Please leave a message after the tone, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thanks!”

  Beep.

  The usher touches my elbow. “Go on,” he whispers.

  I nod and turn back to the phone. “Riss, baby, it’s Hollis. I bet you fucking hate me, and I deserve it, but please, please talk to me. Let me explain or try to explain. Shit, I don’t know. I gotta go on stage now, but … I love you. Okay? Fuck. I’ll call you back.”

  The curtains are parted for me, and I have no time to reflect on my message.

  I walk up the steps to a round of applause.

  Twenty-Seven

  Hollis

  I pass Lincoln on the way to the microphone. He smiles, giving me a knowing look.

  Ignoring the way my stomach clenches as if it’s preparing me for a hard block on game day, I reach the podium.

  My hand goes into my pocket, and I silence it, hoping like crazy that if Larissa calls, she’ll understand why I didn’t answer. But as I take the piece of paper with the notes for my speech out of my other pocket, I realize I can’t not see my phone screen. I’ll be distracted the whole time and wondering if she has texted me back. So, I put it on the podium next to the scratch paper that Judy left in the goodie box for me. I read again the words she wrote along the top of the paper.

  To my chosen and newest grandson,

  You are always welcome at my table.

  Love, Grandma Judy

  I take a deep breath.

  No texts.

  I adjust the microphone.

  The lights above me are hot. The podium is a little low for my taste. The microphone is loud and screeches as it bounces on its stand, and I reach up and steady it.

  I clear my throat.

  “I’d like to first thank the Catching-A-Cares Foundation for the opportunity to be here. At first, I didn’t believe it and was …slightly uncooperative,” I say, getting a chuckle from the crowd. “But their patience and kindness have been unmatched. So, I’d like to thank them for that. And to Mr. and Mrs. Landry for personally welcoming me to Georgia. I appreciate you both so much.”

  Applause helps drown out the voice in my head that reminds me that Larissa was with me that night.

  No texts.

  I clear my throat again. “Many of you might know me from my time spent on the football field. Although, if you could forget this past season, I’d be grateful.”

  The crowd laughs at what they think is a joke. It’s not
.

  No texts.

  My heart constricts.

  Come on, Riss.

  “What many of you don’t know is that I arrived in Georgia straight out of foster care. The system took me in when I didn’t have anyone and made sure I had a safe place to sleep at night. Because of the families who were willing to open their doors to a wild boy, I had enough stability in my life to find football.”

  I suck in a deep breath.

  “Football gave me the outlet I needed to stay out of trouble. It allowed me a safe place to spend my time and to release the aggression I had built up inside me. It gave me structure and coaches that pushed me to succeed when no one else did.”

  I glance down.

  No texts.

  “Thanks to the commitment from the men and women in the foster care program as well as the Union High School Football Program, Coach Herbert made a promise to a guy who was as rough around the edges as you can get. He never gave up on me.”

  My voice breaks at the end.

  I sniffle and try to keep myself under control.

  No texts.

  “I had a hard start in life. But the men and women who gave their time—many of them selflessly and without pay—kept me from being a statistic. They literally changed my life. And that’s how I Caught-A-Care,” I say, using the tagline for the nonprofit.

  The audience breaks out into applause again.

  I blow out a breath and grab both sides of the podium.

  “I don’t have any more notes,” I say. “Yet my speech feels incomplete … and I know why. Because my story isn’t over.”

  I clear my throat again.

  No texts.

  Really, Larissa. Please …

  “I was sitting by the ocean this morning and wondering what the rest of my life looks like now that football is over. And I realized that, for some reason, I’d assumed that I was on my own now. That just because I’m an adult by every indicator meant that no one cares. But that’s not true.”

  I press my thumb on Judy’s name.

  “I would like to go on record and say that, while many of us here remember to support children—myself included, there are many adults who need support too. And when a Care is passed our way, we need to … scoop it up and do our part.”

  My voice breaks again, and I kick myself.

  I slide my hands down my pants, my heart thundering in my chest.

  “So, in addition to the many families and coaches that helped raise me, I’d like to thank the handful of people who helped teach this young man about family and love recently.” I smile sadly. “They welcomed me into their homes and their lives and showed me what it was like to truly be accepted, flaws and traumas and all. Not because someone told them they had to or because I can catch a ball reasonably well … most of the time.”

  The crowd chuckles again, making me smile.

  “But they chose to … maybe love me,” I say, having to bow my head to make my throat stop constricting so hard. I clear my throat. “So, to my new grandma Judy, thank you. Your love means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

  I look up into the crowd to find her.

  “And to a family that will probably never speak to me again, but will forever be … a part …”

  I lean forward as if that will help me see better.

  What the …?

  Judy sits on the end in her blue and white dress. She gives me a bright smile and points to her right.

  Sitting next to her is, I think, Larissa’s aunt, Siggy.

  My gaze keeps moving down the line.

  Boone waves when my eyes land on him.

  Then sits Bellamy. She gives me the biggest, silliest wink.

  And then, next to her, with tears streaming down her face, is Larissa.

  My body lunges to the side before I catch myself.

  “Where is your phone?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  The crowd laughs.

  She holds her hands out like she doesn’t know.

  Blood pumps through my veins and, while I’m incredibly thankful to the Landrys for being here, I want nothing more than to not be.

  I fiddle with the paper, not able to take my eyes off Riss.

  “I …” I laugh and look into the crowd.

  And for the first time ever, there are people here … for me. With me.

  Whatever I thought it might feel like to look into a crowd and see someone there for you—I had no fucking clue, but it’s better. It’s so much better.

  “Thank you to the Catching-A-Cares Foundation,” I say. “Thank you so much.”

  When I turn around, Lincoln is walking my way. He winks.

  “Go get her,” he whispers.

  I laugh. “I’m on it.”

  I jog down the stairs and along the side of the room.

  Lincoln thanks everyone for coming and instructs them on where to donate, but I’m not registering any of it. I walk as quickly as I can across the back of the room and see Larissa and her family exiting the row.

  “Riss,” I say, jogging up to her.

  Her eyes are clouded with tears. “Hollis, I—”

  I grab her face and kiss her with everything I have.

  “Let’s try to keep this PG-13,” Bellamy says as she walks by. “People are watching.”

  I pull back and rest my forehead on Larissa’s.

  “Let ’em watch,” I say, looking into her pretty eyes. “I was calling you. And texting you. Where’s your phone?”

  “I turned it off, and now I can’t find it,” she says.

  “I’m sorry. I was stupid and—”

  “I know.”

  Siggy stands beside us. “Hollis, we are so proud of you.”

  “Yes, honey, we are,” Judy says, standing beside Siggy.

  I release Larissa’s face but grab her hand instead and pull her into my side.

  “Thank you all for coming. I mean, I guess you are here to see me.” My stomach drops. “But you might not be. I—”

  “Of course, we’re here for you,” Siggy says. “I think you’re family now. Right, Riss?”

  I look down to see her smiling up at me.

  “Well, he can try not to be, but I’ll just have to keep pestering him with questions until he gets tired of me and agrees.”

  I grin at her. “I love you.”

  Her eyes grow wide.

  “I told you in a voice message, which was probably the total wrong way to do that, but it just came out,” I say with a shrug. “And I should’ve said it on stage so you could’ve gotten your public declaration you were telling me you always wanted, but this will have to do.”

  She smiles so wide that the corners of her lips touch her eyes. “I love you too.”

  “Well, I love food, and I’m starving,” Boone says. “Can we grab some food and continue this little love fest elsewhere?”

  “I’ll call Hillary’s House and have them deliver,” Siggy says. “Everyone, come to my house. Judy, would you like to come?”

  Judy clutches her pearls. “Why, yes. I think that would be nice.”

  “Fabulous.” Siggy smiles. “We’ll see you all there.” She grabs Judy’s arm gently and helps her out.

  Boone slaps my back, drawing my attention away from Siggy and Judy. “Hey, man. Good work on the field and off. I’m glad Riss found a decent guy for once.”

  “Well, you can stop worrying because I’m where it stops for her.”

  She stills beside me. “You are?”

  I look down into her eyes and know it’s true. I can fight it, but it won’t matter.

  All the doors that closed up to this point were so that I would walk through this one. And I’m jumping in headfirst.

  “I am.” I nuzzle my cheek against the side of her head. “We’re going to need another pact.”

  “Oohh, you’re right.” She grins against my side. “What should this one include?”

  “Me and you forever.”

  She wraps both arms around me. “That’s a relationship
pact I’ll be happy to sign.”

  Epilogue #1

  Hollis

  The swing goes back and forth. It’s a lazy movement, completely inconsiderate of time.

  Larissa lies longways with her head on my lap. I brush her hair out of her face as I keep us swaying in the breeze.

  The lasagna Siggy ordered for an early dinner was amazing, and I ate more than any guy should ever eat in front of a girl’s family. It was nice to have my appetite back.

  I look down at my girl. Her eyes are closed. She looks content, and I want to keep it that way.

  No matter what.

  “Can I ask you something?” I ask.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “How did you know I was there? And how did you get everyone to go with you?”

  She grins. “Well, Boone and Bellamy and I were going to go anyway. Or we were before you decided to be a jerk.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She opens her eyes. They’re sparkling. “I had kind of called it off because I didn’t think you wanted us there. That and I was really mad. And hurt.”

  I wince.

  “But Judy called Lincoln and told him she wanted to go and that he needed to get ahold of me.”

  “She did?”

  Larissa nods.

  “Huh.”

  I gaze across the lawn behind Siggy’s house at the trees dotting the landscape—giant southern oaks covered in Spanish moss that dusts the ground at some points. There are bushes with deep purple flowers along both sides of a path that leads from the porch steps and over a hill.

  Judy’s actions on my behalf surprise me. I don’t know why. She’s a meddling and territorial lady, and I shouldn’t be shocked to find out she exerted her will over anything, let alone my problems.

  How did I get so lucky to stumble into her little shop that day?

  I look down to see Larissa watching me.

  How did I get so lucky to find her?

  She climbs off my lap and moseys down the steps. She shoves her hands in the pockets of her wine-colored dress and gazes down the pathway.