With a sigh, I made my way to the practice area as I heard Coach tell Jett to take up position.
As I lost myself in the routine of practice, I welcomed the clarity that training provided. My mind was clear, and I thrived on the burn in my muscles that training gave me. An hour later, Coach had us running routes downfield as Jett and Ben threw and the defense tried to take them out of the pocket. He included Gray in the runs, and I was on edge the whole practice.
At eight thirty, the whistle blew to signal us that morning practice was over. Jamie had delivered a hell of a spear to me just before the whistle, and I was lying flat on my back as I heard Coach talk to Gray.
“You can’t play.”
“I know.”
“But you practiced anyway?”
“You told me to, Coach,” Gray answered him easily.
“You do everything I say suddenly?” Coach scoffed. “Like when I said, don’t fuck your hand up more, you then fucked your hand up worse.”
“Accidents happen,” Gray replied smoothly.
“Shit happens,” Coach snapped back. “Eighty-seven, why are you still here?”
“Working up the energy to stand, Coach,” I called back.
“You’re all on weights tonight. I’ll see you fuckers at five,” he barked before I heard him walk off.
“You know about two weeks ago, that was me,” Gray said as he looked down at me.
I remembered it well; it was before everything came out about him and Quinn. I preferred it then.
“Circle of life, or some shit.” I got up and stretched. “Glad he sees you’re not fit.”
“I could probably do it,” Gray told me as we began to walk to the locker room. “I just don’t want to risk it.”
“We have ’Bama on Saturday,” I said as I saw Jett hovering, waiting. “At least his shoulder’s better.” I gestured to Jett, and Gray nodded.
“You’re gonna have to defend.”
Sighing, I looked down at my helmet. “I know, I’ll do my best.”
“I know.” Gray gave me a tight smile, and then the three of us walked into the locker room, the mood more somber. In our league, only ’Bama and our team had lost one game each. Saturday’s game was a must-win for us, or else we could kiss the conference game goodbye, especially if Kentucky won their game.
I really wanted the conference game. If we could get to the end of the regular season having only lost one game, we would be in the conference game for sure. Most likely against ’Bama, but we’d cross that bridge when we got to it.
“I can’t believe I’m out for these games,” Gray admitted as we pulled off our practice clothes to get showered. He saidnothing more as his brother helped him out of his jersey, his splint limiting his movements.
“I can’t believe you caught three balls in practice,” Jett mumbled as he tossed Gray’s jersey beside his. “Only you would catch three balls with a splint and still outrun the defense.”
“You really are something else,” I told my cousin.
“Or my teammates don’t want to risk injuring me by catching me,” Gray grunted as he sat down and pushed his cleats off. “Fuck, this sucks.”
“Well, next time, don’t hit your brother with a splint.” I watched as Gray huffed out a laugh before he nodded.
“He makes me mad.”
“Everyone makes you mad,” I said with a light laugh as I headed for the shower.
Strolling to class afterward, I said goodbye to the twins as I made my way to computer science. I shared this class with Red, and I thought about the assignment we had due tomorrow. I’d read hers last night, and it was fine, but I had tweaked it slightly. Not much, but she hadn’t mentioned it. I knew she was going to say she’d been sleeping when I emailed it back to her, but I’d put a read receipt on the email, and I knew she’d opened it.
Strolling into class, I knew I was late, but the professor also knew I had training this morning, and he was lenient. He gave me a nod in acknowledgment as I made my way to the back, the desk closest to the aisle empty, as always.
