“Her?” Coach asks and points down the sidelines to me. “You dream big, Hudson.” And then the head man waves me over. “Are you dating my quarterback, sweetheart?”
“No, sir. We’re just friends.”
The Coach smirks like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day. “I’m going to let you in on a secret, Zhanna, football players don’t take their eyes off the ball and risk getting sacked over a friend, no matter how pretty she is. Linebackers are big ol’ boys.”
Zina snorts her agreement. “Tell it, Coach.”
“But,” he continued, “At least, the boy aims high. Going after a football princess and all.”
“I’m not here for Hudson,” I say. “I’m here for Zina. She asked me to meet her here.” I don’t know why I’m defending myself to a man I don’t really know.
Coach turns his attention back to the field. “What in the hell are you maggots looking at?”
I almost fall over from embarrassment when I also shift my attention to the players and find them staring back at me with their helmets off.
“That’s her?”
Bryant smiles at me, happier than a pig in mud. “Coach Z meet the team. Fellas meet Zhanna Hale.” And then the idiot jogs over to me, and we’re both smiling at each other with an entire football team watching us. Why am I smiling at him like this?
“Friends, my ass,” Tombs says. “What are you doing Hudson? I didn’t blow the damn whistle. Get your ass back out on the field!” The man is going to have a premature heart attack and blow out my eardrum in the process.
Bryant turns around and runs back to his team, but he’s still grinning when he looks back at me. And then he winks which elicits an entire chorus of catcalls from his teammates. For the rest of practice, I stand beside Zina, soak in the atmosphere I grew up in, inhale the scent of fresh turf and sweat, and listen to the sounds of football. It takes me to a bittersweet place in my mind and heart where I have the fondest memories of my dad, but it also reminds me just how much I miss him.
After practice, I find myself waiting outside the facility with Zina as she waits for Ben to shower and reappear.
“He’s got it bad for you,” she says.
“Bryant?”
“Duh.”
“I don’t date…”
She sighs in frustration. “Yeah, yeah, I know. The entire world knows Zhanna. You don’t date football players. I think you’re making a big mistake with him. He’s a great guy.”
I don’t doubt Bryant’s awesomeness. I’ve grown to like the guy after three conversations. I like him more than I should and definitely more than I want to. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t want to raise two kids by myself when they still need a dad. I don’t want to navigate all of my children’s life moments alone because of a game. And I don’t want a game to dictate my entire life, because it does right down to where you live, and the life you can create outside of football. Everything revolves around the game.”
Professional sports are a huge commitment on both the athlete’s and the family’s parts. I can talk about it all until I’m blue in the face, and most people won’t understand it. It’s where my grief has taken me though.
“I heard a rumor,” Bryant says from behind us, “that two beautiful women were waiting outside the locker room. I didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.”
“You’re an idiot,” Zina says to me under her breath. “Hey, Quarterback, where’s that hot tight end I’ve seen around here?”
Bryant turns around and slaps his ass. “This tight end?”
Why does he have to have such a great personality? He could make it a lot more difficult to like him. And,God. You can pop a quarter off his juicy ass. So many erotic images of my hands on his bare ass flitter across my mind.
“Close your mouth,” Zina says.
I immediately do as I’m told before Bryant sees the physical effect he has on me. Ben exits the locker room, and then we head to the lot outside with those two holding hands along the way.
“I’m heading to Ben’s,” my sister announces when we reach our cars. “You should come.”
“Nah, I think I’ll head home.”
“Suit yourself,” she says and kisses Ben before she gets into her car to follow him home. I get a little wave through the window as they pull off.
Bryant opens the latch on his tailgate and eases it down. “I don’t know why they take two separate cars everywhere. They’re always together.” And then he pats the tailgate. “I’m not going to complain though. It means I get to see you.”
