“That’s what they said, but you should have been there, Rush. Jacob didn’t even give me any notice. I was told I was being let go one minute and then basically escorted out the door the next.”
“They manhandled you?!”
I will fly so fast over to that rinky-dink college and kick somebody’s ass.
“No, not literally, but it sure felt like it. I’ve never felt so… devalued.”
More soft tears.
“It’s going to be okay, Bird. You’ll find something else. Something better.”
The chatter in the locker room grows louder. After the argument, my teammates are still pretty excitable and still yapping about Samuels’s and Proctor’s drama as if they’re a bunch of gossipy school girls.
“I shouldn’t have called you with all this,” Mia says, obviously hearing all the blathering going on around me. “You’re busy at work.”
“I’m not sure what I’m doing right now should be classified as work.”
“No, you’re a busy man. I just needed to hear your voice for a moment, but I’m fine. I’m going to go home and get under the covers. You go back to practice. You’ve got a season to get ready for.”
It physically pains me to hear so down. I’m not used to it. I never want to get used to it.
“How about we go out when I’m done here?”
“Out?”
“For drinks or something.”
“You don’t drink.” She sniffles.
“That’s never stopped us before. I’ll pick you up at six.”
Mia hesitates before she agrees.
“I can take the train and meet you in the city somewhere. I don’t want to drive and have to try and find parking.”
I’m from a small town in Virginia and Mia is from a big city in Pennsylvania. She is used to traveling a lot on her own on public transportation, but we did little of that where I’m from. Everyone had to drive or walk. So I’m not comfortable with her getting on a bus or train or even a damn Uber to meet me in Manhattan, especially when the sun is setting.
“It’s easier for me to just pick you up.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t give me a hard time about it. Usually she does.
“Thanks, Rush.”
“We never have to say thank you to each other, Bird.”
“Right, I forgot.” I can hear a hitch in her voice. She’s trying not to cry again.
After we hang up, I’m pissed. Not only have I just been in the middle of a fight between teammates that resulted in a scar on my jaw, but now Mia’s just been tossed on her ass by some half-ass university that she’s given years of great service to. She deserved better. I always thought her immediate supervisor was incompetent. Now that’s just been confirmed.
Proctor comes over to me with his tail between his legs. Because we’re using a backup quarterback this season, they look at me as the approachable leader of the offense. I’m not sure why. I barely say two words to most of them on any given Sunday.
“Rush, man, I’m sorry for today. I overreacted and things got out of hand.”
“Yeah, they did.”
“In my defense, he’s sleeping with my mom. My MOTHER. That shit can’t stand.”
It’s true that Proctor’s mom is probably one of the youngest NFL moms I’ve ever seen. Her tits are high and her ass is firm and she must have given birth to his ass when she was barely a teenager. That’s no excuse, though. Samuels should have never touched her, but I can see how the shit could happen.
