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“Thanks for a fun night,” I tell them.
Jake finally releases West, who lays on his back for a second, groaning and winded, before climbing to his feet.
We say goodnight to the three of them and make our way back up to our room.
And as I lay in bed, staring out at the full moon that hangs low in the sky, it takes me a long time to fall asleep.
Tomorrow I’ll go to my first classes and I’ll get assigned my new studio space. I’ll see my dad in the afternoon so I’ll be able to get a feel for how he’s handling things. I’ll find out if I have a shot at getting my first exhibition—in New York, of all places. I know it’s wildly unlikely but it’s nice to know that there’s a tiny chance that maybe, even if not now, somewhere along the line, the possibilities are endless.
I’ve got new friends. I love my roommate.
The night feels sparked with possibility, like new beginnings, the fuses of the fireworks of our futures, are just waiting to being lit.
4
I pass to Gabriel, who juggles the ball before getting a secure hold, finishing the play with the kind of precision he’s become known for.
To catch a defense like the Northeast Falcons unprepared, you have to hit them with something new every single time. They’re one of Hawthorne’s oldest and fiercest rivals. Faking the ball to the running back and dumping it to the tight end is predictable. So’s a screen pass on 3rd and long. These plays have been run so many times that even high school defenses are prepared for them. Which is why we’re practicing a throw-to-run concept from empty.
Purists might cringe but my dad used to insist that this was how the game is evolving. Football is being played in space these days and the passing game is king. Brute force still has its place, of course. But it’s been overtaken by speed, pace and spacing. The scheme we’re working on follows this trend. And receivers like Gabe and West are dangerous.
“We’ll finish here for today.” Coach Fox looks at his watch again. “It’s almost six.”
That’s the third time he’s looked at his watch in the last few minutes. It’s not like him to finish early, but tonight I’ll take it. We were up at five for strength and conditioning training. It was the first day of fall semester and classes went from nine until three, at least for the players. We schedule our classes around our football schedule.
Then we got taped for practice and have been working non-stop on our formations all afternoon.
The four of us are basically carrying this team and it’s a worry to Coach. Reggie Grayson, our best tight end, was injured a few weeks ago in a waterskiing accident. He’ll recover but it doesn’t look like he’ll be fit for play until mid-season. Our defensive line is weaker than it needs to be. And some of our younger players, like Noah Booth and Mitch Logan, both sophomore wideouts with huge potential, are fast but they both have issues securing the ball. They underperform whenever they’re under pressure. Which is why we’ve been throwing them to the wolves all afternoon, putting them in situations where they have to act fast, and faster, without losing their focus.
Usually Coach would keep us late to pore over the replays but he seems distracted tonight.
Fine by me.
We head into the locker room. I shower and change, and when I get back to my locker, Gabriel is dressed, packing up his stuff. “You want to grab something to eat, Chief?”
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
“So…” No one else is close by and he seems to be taking the opportunity. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” My game has never been better.
“I mean, why are you suddenly living like a fucking monk, Elias? This has been going on for a while now. What’s the problem? You got a girl back home or something? Did you meet someone on the sly you’re not telling us about?”
Gabriel and Jake go way back, but both of them have just as close a friendship with me as they do with each other. Jake is my wingman, loyal to a fault, the one I’m most likely to go out and have fun with. Gabe is deeper. We have conversations every now and then that are like mini therapy sessions for both of us. He’s the smartest person I know and he gets things no one else would ever even think about even trying to get.
I can admit things to Gabe I wouldn’t admit to Jake, and definitely not to West. West is a good friend but everything’s a joke to him.
I check to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I don’t know.” I shove some clothes into my bag. “I don’t seem to be able to relate to any of these girls at the moment. Something’s missing each and every time. Do you think it’s true that pheromones or whatever are the reason we’re attracted to people? Because my detectors seem to have fucking shut down lately.”
“Pheromones are oxytocin,” Gabe says. “They trigger the limbic system, where the amygdala is located. The amygdala is responsible for the release of dopamine and norepinephrine, which make us feel giddy, energetic and euphoric—what we feel as emotion and arousal. Which is simplifying things, but you get the idea.”
“Fuck.” Despite what we’re talking about, I laugh. “I forgot I’m talking to Einstein.”
Gabriel shrugs. “There’s a science to attraction. None of them are triggering your amygdala, that’s all it is.”
“I don’t know about my amygdala, but I do know my dick suddenly has ridiculously high standards.”
“Or you’ve just been distracted by football. We all know it takes a lot of focus to memorize the formations. Plus you’re spending a lot of time working with the younger receivers. A lot of quarterbacks wouldn’t go that extra mile. And our first game of the season is only a few days away. The stress of the game is real.”
