Extracurricular

by D. G. Whiskey

  “You’re something else, you know that?”

  Her eyes were smoldering.

  “I’m all yours.”

  PRESENT

  “They’re throwing everything into the blitz,” Tony said, circling a few markings on his clipboard. “That’s freeing up another man downfield. You can take advantage of that. Just be careful you get the ball off quickly.”

  I nodded. I’d noticed the same thing. “We’re well-positioned here. If we can hang on for another quarter, we’ve got our thirteenth game sewn up.”

  It still felt surreal. I’d hoped for results this good, coming into Los Angeles. I dreamed of taking the team from the worst in the league to the championship. But even in those daydreams, hardly any part of me thought we could accomplish so much in one season.

  The regular season didn’t matter—it served as a ticket to the playoffs. But now that a perfect season was within reach, I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted it.

  Our punt receivers caught the ball and fought another twenty yards up the field, giving me good position for the next drive.

  “Get out there, King. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

  Every time I took the field at home, the crowd cheered, and this time was no exception. I grinned. Even in my boyhood fantasies, I hadn’t imagined reaching this level of fame.

  The first snap of the drive delivered the ball to my hands. Ricky streaked down the left sideline, but he was covered closely by a red shirt.

  Who’s open? Come on…

  I could sense the pocket collapsing around me, but I hadn’t found my man yet. I’d have to throw it away in a few seconds unless I wanted to get sacked.

  There!

  Jerry had completed his route, shaking off the man covering him. I cocked my arm back, ready to send forth the ball that would deliver us into the end zone once more.

  A heavy body crashed into my back. The contact whipped my head back as I fell to the ground.

  Whoever speared me wrapped his arms around my body, trapping my arms and falling on top of me. The ground rushed up to my face, but I couldn’t do anything to save myself as my head slammed into the turf.

  Blackness threatened to swamp my vision, and thoughts deserted me in a daze.

  The heavy body on top of me rolled off, and I dimly heard a whoop.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! Sack the King, man!”

  I rolled onto my back, fighting to get enough air into my lungs.

  “Yo, Travis, you okay, man?” Leroy leaned over me. At least, it could have been Leroy. It was hard to tell with how many of him there were.

  My tongue didn’t want to function properly—all I could manage was a garbled groan.

  “Fuck. This isn’t good.”

  It took another minute before the worlds dancing before my eyes resolved into a single vision.

  “King, look at me.” A man wearing a team polo shirt waved his hand in front of my face. Doug. The team doctor. “How do you feel?”

  My wits were scrambled, but the look of concern on the trainer’s face pulled me back into the present. If I didn’t get up and shake it off, they might take me out of the game for evaluation.

  “I’m fine, just got the wind knocked out of me a little bit.”

  I pushed myself up and climbed to my feet. My offensive line stood in a semicircle around where I’d lain. Cheers rained down from the audience that had been hushed by the hit.

  Blood rushed through my head, threatening to topple me as grayness swamped my vision. Gritting my teeth, I fought through it, determined not to show any sign of the struggle it took to stay on my feet.

  “Come with me to the sideline, King. We need to make sure you’re okay.”

  I shook my head. “That’s unnecessary. I’ve had worse hits. I just need to shake it off.”

  A timeout call made the issue a moot point. Despite my attempts to appear stoic, the chance to catch my breath and gather my wits was a relief.

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked as I walked up to the sideline.

  Juliette and Dr. Kent stood beside him, tablets at the ready.

  What is she doing over here?

  “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up, but I’m good to go back in and close out this game.”

  “Good.”

  Juliette waved her hand between us, grabbing our attention. “You can’t do that, Travis. That hit was already a big one, but the impact on your head was even worse than most.”

  I glared at her. The last thing I needed in such a tight game was to be taken out because of a hard hit.

  “My head’s fine. It was just a solid tackle. It probably looked worse than it was.”

  She read the look on my face and bit her lip.

  Don’t do it, Juliette. Don’t throw me under the bus like this.

  I could tell by the way her eyes pleaded with me that she would do it, anyway.

  “You need to get it evaluated—there’s an eighty percent chance you’ve been concussed with an impact that intense.”

  “Eighty percent?” The doctor’s eyebrows raised. “That’s too big of a risk, Tony. You can’t let King continue to play.”

  I swore under my breath. “Tony, I’m fine. We need to put this game away, and then we can take a look at it. There’s only one quarter left.”

  Doug folded his arms. “There’s only one choice here, Tony. I know the literature and believe we can trust these sensors. King has to go to the quiet room and be tested.”

  Tony looked between Juliette and the doctor and me.

  “Goddamn it. Okay, King, you’re out. I’m sorry, but the league would eat me alive if I let you stay in and found out there were concussion concerns—especially with the added scrutiny that’s been on us.” He gave Juliette a glare of his own.

  My heart sank. I had faith in the team, in the guys I’d grown to see as my own brothers, but I didn’t want to abandon them.

  Juliette followed beside me as Doug led me off the field. “Travis, I’m sorry, but I’m looking out for your health. This is the most important thing for you. You understand that, right?”

  I stared ahead, unwilling to look at her. If I looked at her, then I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from forgiving her.

  It will happen eventually, but I just want to be angry right now.

  By the time we made it to the tunnel, she’d fallen behind. I heard the choked back sob as she dropped from my side. It tore my heart apart, but the icy chill inside kept it frozen.

  “What’s the damage?”

  Doug sighed. “I’m afraid those sensors were right. It’s a concussion, and it’s a bad one. You’ll be out at least a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” Panic clutched my lungs, ridding them of oxygen and making me suddenly feel short of breath. “That’s too long, Doug. The playoffs start in just a few weeks.”

  He nodded. “I know. We’ll try to have you back before then, but there are no guarantees. You might be out for the rest of the season.”

  The walls closed in around me. The quiet room was a peaceful place that was normally comforting, but right now, it cultivated claustrophobia.

  “That can’t happen. I won’t let that happen. I feel fine, Doug.”

  His eyes were shadowed. “I don’t doubt you do, King. All I can say is that we have to go slow and not rush things.”

  I’d been in the quiet room for a few hours. The game would have wrapped up long ago, but there were no TVs. “Did we win the game? Is the streak alive?”

  No matter what the doctors said, I would come back and play the next game to keep the undefeated season going. This was a big overreaction.

  His face gave the answer away before he opened his mouth. “We gave up two touchdowns and a field goal in the fourth, and we couldn’t get anything going on offense. The team’s spirit broke when you were taken out of the game.”

  A loud crash echoed around the quiet room as I threw a chair into the wall.

  Sometimes, action spoke more eloquently tha
n words.

  Chapter 17

  ~Juliette~

  PAST

  I let the water pour down my body, washing away the suds.

  Showers were always the time when introspection hit. Standing under the hot water, my thoughts, as always, were on Cocky.

  This has gotten out of hand.

  I liked him. I liked him a whole heck of a lot. Too much.

  The looming specter of our inevitable separation was already difficult to face. I fell harder for him every day, and every day, the end of the week drew closer. Tears threatened to join the water from the thought of never seeing him again.

  How did this happen?

  It was supposed to be a no strings attached hookup. One night. Barely enough time to get to know someone, let alone fall in love with them.

  Love.

  It was the first time I’d even dared let myself think the L-word.

  It can’t be love. There hasn’t been enough time.

  It was just an infatuation. It had to be. But the knowledge didn’t lessen the impact of the raw emotion I felt every time I saw his chiseled face. I could see myself spending forever with him.

  Even if we have to go back to our own schools for a few years, we could always get together afterward if we moved to the same city. It could work.

  After all, if we spent the rest of our lives together, what was a few years apart?

  No. Don’t do this to yourself, Juliette. You know that long distance isn’t an option.

  Before emotions grew to such monstrous proportions, I’d laid out all the reasons long distance couldn’t possibly work. It was frightening how easy it was to make excuses for every one of those reasons now.

  How can I leave him if we spend every moment together for the rest of the week?

  I ended my shower and got dressed as I wrestled with the dilemma. I wanted to say that what we had between us was casual, but I couldn’t lie to myself.

  The short walk to Cocky’s room was torture. There was only one option that made sense.

  His door was unlocked.

  “There you are, Sexy,” he said. He reclined on his bed, pen and a pad of paper in hand, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt. “I’m just jotting down notes for a story I’ve been thinking about. If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have bothered getting started on it.”

  Somehow, despite the number of times I’d seen him naked or topless in the sun on the beach, the sight of him with a pad of paper and disheveled hair was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  It made my heart tear a little more.

  “Cocky… we should move on.”

  His smile faltered. “Move on?”

  “Go back to partying with our own friends. End this. See what else is out there this week.”

  He sat up straighter. “You can’t be serious.”

  Cocky swung his legs off the bed, but I put a hand out.

  “Please, don’t stand up. I don’t know if I can do this if you come over to me, but this needs to happen. We’ve gotten too deep, Cocky. I know you know it. You can feel how out of hand this has gotten. We have to stop this now, because if we go any further, then we’ll hurt ourselves even more when it has to end.”

  His eyes burned with the intense fire I admired. “Why does it have to end?”

  My heart nearly burst at his words.

  “It has to. You know it does. We can’t do this on opposite sides of the country. It’ll tear us apart, and we’ll end up hating each other for it.”

  “Then we’ll just stay in touch and be together when it makes sense.”

  I shook my head. “You know that’s not how it’ll happen. We talked about this days ago, and nothing’s changed.”

  He rose halfway to his feet, but I backed away to the door. “If you stand up, I’m running away.”

  He sank back down. “I’ll switch schools and come to California to play ball.”

  A tear dripped from my eye and rolled down my cheek, hot against my skin.

  “I can’t let you do that. You have the perfect situation there—the top school in the country, with everything set up for you to make it pro. I can’t take that away from you, especially since we’ve only known each other for a few days. What if it’s all a mirage? We could date and realize that we’re not right for each other.”

  “That won’t happen. You know it won’t. We fit together too well, Sexy. Admit it.”

  I bit my lip. I couldn’t lie, so I didn’t even try to deny his words.

  He stood up. “Come here, Sexy. Let me hold you. We’ll figure this out.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be.”

  I fled the room, scared to look back and see his face.

  PRESENT

  The facilities were dark and deserted.

  Fans had left hours ago. The cleaning staff had already scoured the stadium seats to pick up crumpled beer cans and discarded hot dog trays. Team staff had concluded their post-game duties and went home to their families, and the players had cooled down, taken interviews, and left for the night.

  All except for one.

  It had taken some time to track down where Travis had gotten to. I’d waited for him for hours, looking for the chance to explain myself to him, to get a sense of what he thought and felt. The stadium felt more and more like a ghost town—I spent most of my time at the practice facilities, so it felt like I was intruding somewhere I didn’t belong.

  Finally, after checking my credentials, a friendly security guard had given me a knowing look and pointed me toward the locker room.

  A series of thuds were all I heard as I put my ear against the door. I cracked it and entered.

  The locker room was an impressive place—no expenses spared so a bunch of millionaires could prepare for games in comfort. Only a few accent lights were on, giving an otherworldly air. The team’s logo was embroidered in the lush carpet underfoot, and every player’s stall in the huge oval room held a uniform and helmet. A dark form stood at the near end with his back to me, a large metal can at his side and another placed at the far end.

  Travis reached into the can at his side and withdrew a football. He took a step to the side and fired it down the room, the leather ball clanging into the center of the other can.

  Again, he pulled out a football from the can by his side, this time taking two steps back, spinning to his right and unleashing a throw while still rotating. The ball hit the back of the far can so hard that it tipped back and almost fell over before settling again.

  “You should be resting,” I said.

  He looked at me for a few moments, eyes indecipherable, before reaching into the can for another ball.

  “I’m fine. Just need to shake it off. I could have played. We could have won the game.”

  His arm hadn’t suffered any damage. The third ball hit home with no doubt.

  “It’s not your fault, Travis. Injuries happen, and—”

  “No, it’s not my fault,” he cut me off. “It’s your fault. If you hadn’t run over with your sensors and your data, I would have stayed in the game, and we would still be undefeated right now. We lost our shot at joining the legends in the history books thanks to you.”

  His accusation hit close to home. I’d done the right thing. I knew that. But did I alter the course of the game? Change the outcome of a record-setting season?

  “All I wanted was to make sure that you were safe,” I said. “I know it’s hard to hear, but you shouldn’t have stayed in the game.”

  His next throw was long, bouncing off the back rim of his target can. He whirled to face me.

  “Did I ask you to become my nanny, Juliette? We all take risks in this game—we know that. No man wants to come out if he can play through an injury. Countless men have done it before me and will do it again, but I wasn’t given the chance.”

  He stared at me, the power of his gaze capturing me as it always did. This time, it wasn’t lust I saw in him.

  I lifted my chin
. “I’m sorry you lost a game. I really am. I do think you would have won it if you’d stayed in the game, assuming you didn’t just get hurt even worse. But I won’t apologize for my actions. You’ve said it yourself—the only thing that matters is the championship. The team’s got the best record in the league, and even if you lose the last three games of the season, you’re guaranteed a spot in the playoffs. You need to rest, to make sure you won’t hurt yourself.”

  Travis spun away, digging deep into the can to resume his throwing practice.

  “That won’t happen. I’m playing next week.”

  “Travis, please don’t shrug this off. It’s a serious injury. You need to take it easy until you’ve recovered. Otherwise, you may cause permanent damage to your brain. I know you want to win as much as possible, but what’s more important—the results of one season, or your entire career?”

  He went for another ball but came up empty-handed. I approached him and put my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “I only did it because I care about you so much, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” I said. “Please understand that. I only want the best for you, not just now, but for the rest of your life. We’re so close to being able to be together now. As soon as the playoffs are over, that part of my contract with the league is up, and we can finally be together. I want you whole for me.”

  Travis shrugged out of my arms and walked across the room. He took a football from the can and took aim at the one beside me.

  “Go away, Juliette. I can’t just pause my anger, and I don’t want to see you right now.”

  I jumped back as the football slammed into the metal can with a hollow echo. Travis wouldn’t meet my eyes as he barely paused before snatching up another ball and performing a shuffle, dodging imaginary tackles before throwing the ball.

  Did I lose him?

  The level of heat and chemistry between us was usually off the charts, but that was no guarantee we could survive dating each other. It was only a great starting point.

  If he couldn’t forgive me for what I did, it was already too late.