“Sure.”
“Great. You and I will share a pizza since Olivia is gonna want everything on hers.”
“Hey! It's not my fault our baby likes the taste of pickles on top.”
“Case in point,” he says as he helps pull Olivia out of the rocking chair. His hand wraps around her waist and rests at her side. “You coming down?”
“Yeah, just a sec.”
I grab my phone from the bed and quickly type out a message before following them out of the room.
Honey:Good luck, Z. I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this, and now it’s finally yours. You’ve grown into the man you were always meant to be... and I feel lucky I get to watch it happen.
I glance back at the seam one more time. It's still uneven. I leave it.
Jacob:Rough start, Rookie.
Zach:Don’t remind me. 0-2 isn’t exactly how I pictured starting my career.
Jacob:Maybe week 3 will change that.
Jacob:Unfortunately, you’re playing me, so ????
Jacob Miller’s off to the side, talking strategy with his coach,while I’m doing everything possible to keep my team in the game.
Bust Watch? Zach Evans Still Winless.
All Eyes on Evans as Raptors Sink to 0–2.
No. 1 Pick, No Wins: Is Zach Evans Overhyped?
I’ve seen them all.
Every headline. Every clip. Every idiot with a platform deciding that two weeks is enough to define a career.
Now, I just need a win to fucking shut them up.
I scan the defense, already knowing they’re going to give me any short pass I throw, acting like they don’t mind me taking a few yards at a time. They mind. They’re just burning the clock down, waiting for me to force through something bigger.
We’re down by three, on our third down with less than two minutes left of the clock. If we don’t convert here, then we’re gifting the game back to them.
I call the play, take the snap, and the pocket holds just long enough for me to pass it to Dax. He completes it at the twenty-two-yard line, and I’m already moving, rushing us back to the line before the clock can steal another second.
The crowd starts to cheer, but I tune it out. None of it matters. The noise, the stats. Not the fact that we’ve scored more than enough to secure a win only to walk off the field with nothing to show for it. The truth is, if I don’t finish this drive, we’re done.
I’m not letting this game go back into the defense’s hands. I’ve already seen how that ends.
“On two. Strong left, trips right. Dax, you’re the check.”
“Obviously,” Dax says.
“I say it for everyone else’s benefit.”
“Love you, Evans,” he says, blowing a kiss in my direction.
“Run your route.” I point ahead.
Before we break, I glance toward the sideline and see Coach Masters in Owen’s face, pre-emptively laying into him. He juststands there, taking it, and I grit my teeth before looking back at the formation.
