by Amber Nation
I was at a crossroads. Go to Marlee and smooth things over, fight for her, and show her that she knew the exact the man that I was. Or walk through that door, forget all about Tate Manor, and try to salvage what was left of my football career. For the first time in my life, I really wanted to go after the girl.
I took a deep breath and walked to the front door, placed my hand on the doorknob, and stopped to take one more look around. Taking in the lighted garland that weaved around the banisters, the wreaths tacked to the walls that were supposed to help spread holiday cheer. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget my time at Tate Manor, and more importantly Marlee Tate. Turning the knob, I opened the door, and walked through the doorway, allowing it to shut quietly behind me.
Once I reached the wrecked rental car, stopping only to zip up my jacket because even though the snow was melting, it was still cold as fuck, I realized that with my mind a jumbled mess that I forgot to call for a cab. I had no idea how I was going to get to the airport.
“Fuck!” I shouted, shoving against the closed door of the stupid fucking Yaris. There was no way that I was going back into Tate Manor; it would just make matters worse. So, I was going to have to call and hope like hell that it wouldn’t take a cab long to get here because I was going to have to stay out in the cold.
“Problem?” I heard a feminine voice from behind me, and my mind instantly went to Marlee. But it didn’t have the same cuteness quality and not to mention the pitch was way off. I spun around only to be met with the girl who showed up with her dad and the douche.
Sighing, “I forgot to call a cab.” An idea sparked in my mind, and I knew it was a longshot, but I was currently out of options. “Could you possibly give me a ride?”
“Marlee is my best friend, so no,” she stated bluntly. She did reach her glove-covered fingers into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. Using her teeth, she pulled off a glove before pushing some buttons and then placed the phone to her ear. “Yeah, Bill, it’s Trudy. I need a cab at Tate Manor as soon as possible.” She paused for a few moments, then muttered, “Okay, thanks.” She hung up the phone, stowing it back in her pocket before resituating her glove back onto her fingers.
She did all of this without once looking at me. Here she was, Marlee’s best friend and doing me a favor by calling a cab. Granted it was to get me to leave, but it was the fact of the matter.
“Listen up, Holden. Like I said, Marlee is my best friend. I’ve known her my entire life, and actually, she’s more along the lines of my sister. She and her parents are my family, and I for one take care of my own.” She didn’t know the first thing about me, but that was an incidental dig and be that as it may, it stung. I barely managed to hold back my flinch. Something about Marlee just brought out all of my emotions. “She doesn’t take risks. She did once by moving to California, trying to live her own life doing what she wanted to do. Being who Marlee is, I’m sure you know how that ended up.” Yeah, I knew. I shook my head in the affirmative because her guilt brought her right back here, especially when her father got sick. “She took a risk on you, knowing exactly that her outcomes haven’t always been in her favor. I’m not sure exactly what went on, but by the bits and pieces that I’ve heard already, you let her in, in a big way. But you could’ve let her all the way in. She saw the man you were with her, and she wouldn’t have judged.”
“I’m not good enough for her.” Actually hearing myself say that out loud just further reiterated the truth that the statement held.
“Shouldn’t that be up to Marlee to decide?”
“She’s with Greg, or whatever the fuck his name is.”
“Pfft. Yeah,” she scoffed, “maybe in his dreams.”
I leaned against the side of the car. “Excuse me? He told me that they were together.”
Trudy hitched her thumb in the direction of Tate Manor. “And you automatically believed him? I know you’re pretty to look at, but I didn’t think you were an idiot too.” She smirked before shaking her head with disdain. “That isn’t a very attractive quality.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose because I felt the onset of one hell of a headache coming on. My patience was dwindling down, my rage building up, and I was on the verge of not being able to feel my feet due to the pile of snow I was currently submerged in.
“Do you mind explaining to me what the hell is going on?”
“Greg has had a hard-on for Marlee for as long as I can remember. And you basically took what he said at face value without talking to her about it. Classic communication barrier.” She tsked.
“Wait a minute,” I placed a hand on my waist, trying to gather all of my thoughts, “Marlee did the exact same thing. She took what Greg said and didn’t ask me about it.”
“Didn’t she?”
I tried thinking back. She asked me what I had done to get suspended as if she didn’t believe the idea of that was even possible. Fuck. Her first question could’ve very well been why hadn’t I told her that I was a football player, but true to Marlee fashion, she surprised me at every turn. `
Believing that Marlee would do the same thing to me that I did to her made me even that much more of an asshole. She was genuinely a great person. I hung my head, reaching my lowest point, officially defeated. This entire fucked up situation was my fault, and I had no one to direct the blame toward except myself. Even if I wasn’t ready, the time had come to own up to my mistakes, because the most agonizing repercussions were staring me right in the face.
I accepted my defeat knowing that there would be no redeeming myself from this major trench I dug. My punishment had to fit the crime, so I had to do what was best for Marlee. And it was obvious that it didn’t include me. “Tell Marlee that I’m sorry. And please take care of her.”
“I always do, and that’s why I’m not going to tell her that you and I had this little chat. If you find your way back to one another, then you can tell her yourself. Or don’t.” She shrugged. “While I want nothing more than to see Marlee happy, I’ll always be there to pick up the pieces as well.”
I started walking in the direction of the main road to look out for my cab, but I stopped short and turned back around to Trudy. “You do take care of her, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Make sure she knows that you always have her back, something tells me that she doesn’t exactly know that.” She looked confused for a moment before finally nodding once again. It was good to know that she had someone always there for her. Someone to relieve some of the burden.
Christmas had come and gone. Since we had the day off from playing, most spent the day with their loved ones and families. For me, it was just another day. I did make an effort to try and reach out to my mother, to see if our relationship could be salvageable. But I was reduced to leaving a message on her voicemail. She probably saw my name flash across the screen and instantly ignored it. I won’t be holding my breath to see if she’ll return my call.
I thought about reaching out to Marlee. I thought long and hard, I truly did. She wasn’t ever far from my mind, but something about being alone on Christmas made the ache in my chest increase tenfold. I really was a stupid son of a bitch. Ruining one of the only good things to ever happen to me. But the thing of it was, did I really think that we could continue whatever we had long distance? I didn’t know the answer, and I guess I’ll never really find out.
Even though I didn’t have Marlee’s personal telephone number, I got the number for Tate Manor off of their website that she had designed. I dialed it into my phone so many times before deleting each of the ten digits. I had them already memorized.
Was I pathetic? You better fucking believe it.
The guys and I were currently walking off of the field and headed toward the locker rooms after practice. Ever since I returned from Colorado, I had severely been off of my game. My mind constantly elsewhere. The only good thing regarding that: my head was so congested with thoughts of Marlee that I hadn’t lost my temper once. That had
to account for something, right?
Morale for the team was currently at an all-time low. None of us were playing to our full potential. I knew that I needed to get my head into the game, but knowing and actually doing were two completely different things.
Being that I was a halfback, the quarterback heavily depended on me being on the receiving end. The problem was that I wasn’t receiving almost any of the handoffs from Cooper, our quarterback, resulting in numerous fumbles.
I was pissed beyond all control at myself. And it was a battle of wills to keep my anger tamped down. I focused on my steady intake of breath and counted to twenty as we continued our trek down the hallways.
Roscoe appeared at my side and clapped his hand on my shoulder twice before lowering it. “You’ll get there, buddy.”
I responded only by nodding my head. Of all the people that I knew and talked to on a regular basis, Roscoe was the only one who knew exactly what had happened in Colorado, and I preferred it that way.
I threw my practice helmet into the open bay of my locker and sat down on the bench, putting my head in my hands.
“Reed, my office. Now!” Jimmy Knox called out to me. His voice was firm, authoritative, but it didn’t carry its normal irritation. I knew this time would come, but frankly, I’d been avoiding Coach for quite some time. It was completely abnormal for me to fly in under the radar, and it seemed as if it’d finally caught up with me.
I blew out a breath as I stood and allowed the heavy weight of my feet to carry me into my Head Coach’s office.
“Close the door and have a seat, son.”
I did as he asked, even turning the blinds on the door so no one else could peek in. They may be men, but they were nosey motherfuckers.
Shuffling to the same chair I sat in when I got suspended, I lowered myself into the seat not feeling even the slightest bit confident. He called me son, which wasn’t something that had ever been directed toward me with him before. So I was already on alert and no doubt, leery.
I leaned my arms on my knees and looked to the floor. My how much had changed since that last meeting here. It wasn’t only my confidence that had taken a hit, but my overall outlook on life. Was this what depression felt like?
Normally, my body was always pumping with adrenaline whether I was picking a fight or out tearing up the field. Now it felt as if I was drained. Not just mentally but physically. I’ve turned into a pussy, but I honestly didn’t have it in me to care.
Knox came around the front of the desk, folded his arms in front of his chest, and leaned against the corner. “I’m going to come right out and say it: What the hell happened during your suspension?”
It didn’t even cross my mind to tell him anything other than the truth, so that was exactly what I did. “I fell in love. And then I fucking blew it.”
“That’s no excuse. Hell, we all blow it at one time or another in our lives. It’s how you redeem yourself that’s important. So the real question is, what are you going to do to fix it?”
“I don’t know if there is any going back after this.”
“What did you do that was so bad?”
I finally looked up and gripped the back of my neck, trying to squeeze out a bit of the tension that was stiffening my body. “I lied to her and didn’t tell her that I was a football player. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my profession because I love what I do. I didn’t want to tell her who I was exactly because I’m “The Beast.” I had never been more ashamed of myself than when I felt that I couldn’t tell her who I was. She saw the me that no one else gets, but I wouldn’t give her this part of me. The thought of her looking at me with disdain made me sick to my stomach.”
“Oh wee, boy, you’ve got it bad.”
“I honestly don’t know that it could get much worse.”
“Have you tried reaching out to her?” This is the most awkward conversation. Talking with my coach as if we were two friends shooting the shit. But it really did help getting this off of my chest.
“Not really sure that I should. On top of that, I kind of accused her of being with someone else.” Knox whistled in between his teeth without speaking. The lack of response was everything that I needed to know. I had fucked up, big time. I pushed against my temples with my thumbs to try and ward off the onset of a headache.
“You know, you remind me of myself.” I looked up and raised my brows. “Why do you think we butt heads so much? With the matching hot-headed attitude and unruly temper.” He walked around his desk so he could sit back in his chair, placing his elbows on the wooden top. “My dad once gave me a scrap of wood. An old 2x4 off of some project that he was doing. It was flawed with different spots of dry rot, and the shape was warped, but anyway, he gave it to me along with a bag of nails and a hammer. Every single time that I would get mad, I had to hammer a nail into that piece of wood. Boy, it got to the point where it was filling up fast, too fast. But then I started learning how to control my temper. Quelling the edge, because that was a whole lot easier than drilling holes into that piece of wood. Then once I went a few days without putting any more nails into it, my dad told me to start removing one nail each day that I didn’t lose it. It took a long time to pull all the nails out because some days I would just lose focus and got angry. So, I had to go back and forth putting nails in, then taking them out. But once the 2x4 was completely nail free, my dad told me to really look at the piece of wood. Told me that those numerous holes represented scars. That those wounds that you inflicted on others would always be there, but it was up to me to help heal them.” Coach Knox looked me in the eye before asking the next question.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to convey?”
“I think so. I need to contact her, if only for closure.” The thought of completely closing off what we had made my chest ache, which was a constant battle anymore.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but you need to do something to get your head out of your ass and back onto the field.” And…there it was. The sarcastic rebuttal I was waiting for.
“Coach, I play football, not baseball. I didn’t have my mitt in place ready for that curveball.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a smart ass?”
“Not today, so, thanks for that.”
He rolled his eyes, which I took as a good sign. At least there weren’t dual screaming matches, and the ever dreaded ‘S’ word wasn’t being thrown around. Suspension for those just joining us.
I braced my hands around my chair so I could push myself up. “Is that all?”
“Not exactly.”
Great. I thought I would come out of this room completely unscathed.
“I talked to Roscoe before you, asking if he knew what was going on with you. And he shared something completely enlightening.”
I slowly lowered myself back into my chair because I knew exactly where this was headed.
“With all due respect, that wasn’t his story to tell.”
“But it should’ve been yours.” I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised his hand and cut me off. “I know that I wasn’t exactly allowing you a moment to try and defend your actions and for that, I truly apologize. I jumped to conclusions, something that honest men do. It’s part of being human.” That was directed at me, and it was refreshing to know that I wasn’t the only one who fucks up. “I will be speaking with Yates after this. You can bet he will be on the receiving end of one hell of an ass chewing as well as facing suspension time and anger management given he confesses or not. And if you ever witness it again, stow away your fists and let me know.”
I wasn’t a sissy who went and told their coach that ole Dennis was acting out again. That wasn’t me, so I didn’t know how that resolution was going to work.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head. If you have to, just step in, but don’t physically put your hands on him.”
“I can’t just sit back and watch a drunk man getting physical and belligerent with a woman no matter if he is my t
eammate or not.”
He sighed and threw the pen he was holding down on his desk. “Okay, fine. I can see how we are going to come to a stalemate. If it happens again and your fist happens to connect with the son of a bitch’s face, just let me know immediately afterward so the press can get the entire story. You’ll be considered a hero for saving the unsuspecting woman.”
“I’m no hero, which was why I chose to keep my mouth shut about what happened. Dennis acted out of hand against a woman, and I reacted accordingly. I do think with the broken nose that he’ll think twice before ever being a dick again.”
“But you just allow people to perceive you in a negative light. If they knew what the situation consisted of, they wouldn’t just see you as “The Beast” on the field.”
“Don’t you get it, I don’t give the first fuck at what people think of me.”
He looked me directly in the eye. “Obviously you do or else you would’ve told the woman who has your heart the truth.”
And I was done. Finished. Not only because he was completely right. Okay, only because of that and the fact that I didn’t want to look at his smug face now that he knew and kicked me where it counted. I stood up from my seat and gave Coach a mock salute. “As always, such a thrill chatting with you. Next time give me a heads up, and I’ll invite some of the guys for gossip hour.”
I turned on the balls of my feet, the spikes of my cleats stomping into the concrete floor. On the way through the door, I overheard Knox mutter, “Such a smartass,” which had me chuckling until my eyes landed on the traitor.
