Kam
I PUSH THROUGHone more set of Fire Hydrants.
Squeezing the dumbbell to my hamstring behind my knee, I raise it up as high as it can go. I pause for a few seconds in that position, and then lower my knee back down. Wondering why a quarterback is doing leg lifts? Because it takes more than a strong arm to throw with precision and accuracy. It’s an entire body synchronicity, from legs to torso to chest. Fire Hydrants strengthen my outer hips, which also aids inprecisionandaccuracyforotherphysical activities, if you know what I mean.
A guy’s gotta blow offsteam, somehow.
My phone rings on my last rep. I lower my knee to steady myself and answer on the third ring. “Yo.”
“How’s my number one?” It’s Sam, my agent, and he sounds overly enthusiastic.
“Keeping in shape.” I wipe the sweat off my face with a hand towel and take a swig of Gatorade.
“That’s what I like to hear. That’s whatNFL scoutslike to hear.”
“Is there a reason for this phone call? Or do you just miss me?” I mess with him. Sam has been my agent since my freshman year. He’s one of the best in the business and practically poached me from every other agent who showed the slightest bit of interest after I won the conference finals. He’s become as much of a friend as he is a pain in the ass. He has a big, flashy, LA personality, and the talk to go with it. They don’t call him Sam the Magic Man for nothing.
“I’ve heard rumors.”
“What kind of rumors?” I take another swig of Gatorade.
“You’re going to be the first pick, first round, at the draft.”
I nearly spit out the blue liquid. “What?”
“Yup. Seattle wants you, bad. They know you’re going to get snatched up quick with New York, Denver, and North Carolina all in desperate need of a quarterback.”
“But Seattle has the best starting quarterback in the league. Why would they go for me?”
“Because they want to keep it that way. You’re a threat, Kam. You’re destined to be great, and everyone knows it. Their mentality is keep your friends close and your enemies closer, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” I answer slowly, contemplating what going to Seattle could mean for my career. Not much playing time my first year.
“I’ll keep you posted on the details. This stays hush hush.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Later, All-Star.” Click.
The draft is in two months. Two short months and everything I ever worked for, fought for, will finally come to fruition.
The BIG DREAM may finally come true.
I walk up to class to find Laney and Steve talking by the door. I take it upon myself to interrupt their conversation by squirming between them to get into the room. Why? Because I can.
“Lemon.” I wink at Laney and completely ignoreSteve.
“Kam,” she echoes my name only slightly bothered. Steve, on the other hand, seethes under his breath.
“I’ll see you later,” I hear Laney tell him as she follows me into class.
It’s been several weeks and I still can’t figure out what the hell she sees in him.
He seems like a big fat jerk-off to me.
I want to know if she andSteveare really serious, but that just seems too personal to ask. It would make it seem as if I’m more interested than I have any business to be. Laney and I are friends and Lord knows it took us years to get to this point. Our breakup was bad—it was ugly, it was emotional, and very messy. But after it was all over, I learned one thing; being just friends is way better than not having her in my life at all.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.Just friends is better than nothing. Just friends is better than nothing . . .
