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I spin away from her, grab a barbell, and throw it into the mirrored wall, glass splintering and cracks spreading two feet long.
I shake, still seeing her behind me, calm and watching.
Less than a man…
I’m not doing this for the wrong reasons. Everyone needs to prove themselves at some point. I don’t…
It’s not wrong to want to succeed and have him see that and then watch me walk off the field without a backward glance, like it all meant nothing.
But I hesitate as she stands there, and I feel a trickle of sweat glide down the back of my neck.
It does mean something.
For a year, it’s meant everything.
Whatifhe wins?
Will I still go home Sunday?
I can’t fucking walk in that house in no better position than when I left. With him knowing he won everything. Him knowing that he beat me ateverything.
I stand there, my shallow breathing hard and fast as it pours in and out of my nose.
Eyes burning, I turn to her and take her face, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “You still have two more nights in Weston. We’re not done.”
I leave, the warning still hanging in the air as I dive into the locker room to shower.
He’s going to win…
Second place…
Does she think that?
I blink long and hard as I stand under the spray, pushing it out of my mind. I have to clear my head, stay in the moment, and do my job.
This is about a game. It’s my turn.
My brain drifts back to the doubt minutes later when I’m dressing, and I shove it away again.
It arises still when some of us climb into our cars and some of us into the bus as we head to Helm’s Field.
We’ll push them back.
Every time.
We’ll win.
But the more I try to talk myself up, the emptier I feel, and I have to force my breathing to slow down as we dress in one of their locker rooms, and I feel the walls start closing in as we run onto the field.
If we lose, what then?
I twist my head, cracking my neck as the stadium fills and people walk to their seats with drinks and popcorn.
What then?
“It’s not the last game of the season,” the announcer booms over the loudspeaker, “but it’s certainly our favorite! Welcome one and all to Friday Night Football! This game is sponsored by…”
“Are your parents here?” Farrow asks next to me.
