Page 144 of The Cheerleader

“Come in,” I say.

“I can’t. The door is locked.” It’s Susie’s voice.

I bounce to my feet and rush to the door, fumble with the lock, and fling it open. All the cool control I’ve ever possessed is nowhere. Susie stands there grinning, waiting for me to say something, but all I do is look at her, take her in from head to toe, breathe in her sweet scent, and assure myself she’s really here.

“Can I come in?” she asks, politely, maybe a little shyly.

I pull her inside and close the door, ready to ravish her before I force myself to behave, not act like a wild hound. She didn’t drive all this way to have me ravage her on sight—at least I don’t think so.

“I thought you were going to California?”

“Tomorrow. Dane called me and told me about the celebration.” She doesn’t accuse me with her eyes, but questions me for not calling her myself. “I missed you.” She takes a step closer, and that’s all the invitation I need.

Taking her in my arms, I growl my response as I kiss her mouth and everywhere on her face. Sweeping her toward my bed, she laughs as I pick her up and lower her down gently.

“I’ve missed you too, in case you couldn’t tell,” I say.

“Congratulations, Bryan. I’m so happy for you making it to the NFL.” She lets out a dreamy breath as she stares into my eyes. “Tell me everything.”

A knot of tension gathers, but I force myself to do what she asks. She deserves to know. All of it.

I tell her about my old man’s reaction to my decision to play football, that my desertion doesn’t matter. I tell her how it makes me feel that I’m missing a piece of my family, of myself.

And then I soothe her, wipe away the tears she sheds for me, and tell her about listening to the draft on the radio with my friends and getting the call.

We make out for a while until the noise of people and music gets loud enough to signal the party has started. We join the dozen guys in the kitchen and eat sandwiches with them. I keep Susie at my side.

“How come you’re the only one with a girl at this party?” Chuck asks.

“Don’t worry,” Eldy says, “I invited the girls from the apartment a few doors down. They’ll be over.”

“Do you even know them?” Susie asks, amused, and I have a feeling she knows the answer.

“Nope. Not yet. But they seem nice.”

Mack snorts and shoves food in his mouth. “The word’s out,” he says between chews. “I spread it around the gym and all around the field house. Some of the coaches are around.”

Coach Torini must have found out because he shows up at the door.

“Coach—” I don’t get any further because he gives me a bear hug, the kind I haven’t felt in years. Not since Coach Hammer hugged me after my last game at Suffield Academy.

Before that, there was a long drought. Distracting my thoughts from taking me there, Coach slaps my back, takes the beer Eldy hands him and makes a toast.

“To the best player I ever coached. The hardest working man I ever met. Much success in your career and life, Bryan.” He raises his glass, and everyone in the room speaks up and drinks to the toast.

Emotions beat at my insides as I struggle to keep control, but I take a long gulp of my beer, needing to feel this, realizing I made it up my mountain. Or one of my mountains. I glance at Susie and go back to her, returning to her side as more people arrive.

Considering it’s still winter break and the campus is empty, our apartment gets filled up. It’s not long before the entire coaching staff, and even Al Preconi show up.

In bed, Susie tells me I can buy myself a farm with the football money.

“You just need to last a few seasons to make enough money to afford your farm.”

I’ve thought the same things in the past, but I never thought I’d need to start from scratch, to buy my own farm, create my own legacy.

I tell her the things that clamor in my head, the negative things I need to beat down. Not so simple. Bad odds. Injuries. Low salaries for rookies.

“You can do it. You heard your coach. You’re tougher than everyone, harder working than anyone. And smart.”