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Logan
Igrit my teeth in frustration, pissed at how my son is behaving. He spent the majority of the weekend hidden away in his bedroom, music blaring and door closed. I let him have his time to himself. He only ventured out to shower and eat.
But now, we’re at football practice, and his shitty attitude hasn’t dissipated. He’s making sloppy throws to the receivers, fumbling snaps, and purposely miscalling my plays. The other players are getting annoyed, and if I don’t rip his ass a new one, I’ll be accused of playing favorites.
“Campbell! Do you want to be first string or riding the pine bench?” I yell. “You screw up another pass, and you’re out!”
I see him clench the ball, and I can only imagine the obscenities running through his mind before he tosses it to the center. As angry as he is, I half-expect him to fumble it just to tick me off even more, but the snap is perfect, and the pass to the receiver is a beautiful spiral.
“Don’t feel bad, Logan,” Wade says, patting my shoulder. “He needed that.”
“What’s going on with him today?” Robbie asks.
“I think he’s finally accepting that I’m not getting back together with Jo.”
Wade whistles. “That explains it. Heard him telling a few of the guys his mom was in Chicago, but the way he talked, he thinks she’s coming here soon. He didn’t mention anything about the two of you being divorced. That shit can be tough on kids.”
“My parents got divorced when I was twelve. Best thing they ever did,” Robbie comments. “They get along better now than they did the entire time they were married. He’ll come around.”
“I guess,” I reply with a shrug and take a second to holler over to one of my linebackers before finishing up with Wade and Robbie. “He spent the whole damn weekend sulking in his room after being a dipshit to Sailor.”
“I knew it,” Robbie says, punching my shoulder. “I knew it the moment I saw the two of you dancing at the carnival, and then I heard you were together at Phoebe’s.”
I don’t make any effort to deny it. Robbie needs to know she’s mine and that he doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with her.
“You are mighty brave dating Sailor Leigh, considering that Sailor Leigh doesn’t date,” Wade snickers.
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
“You’re damn right it is. She turned me down flat.”
“It makes sense now, Wade,” Robbie says, nudging him. “We couldn’t figure out why in the hell Liam made the team. You had to make a grand gesture, didn’t you?”
“The kid deserved a shot. He has more heart than any other player on this team,” I say, defending my decision. “That’s why he made the team.”
“Yeah, that’s the reason. Poor kid’s going to get creamed out there.”
The moment the words are out of Wade’s mouth, Liam is hammered into the ground before he can even gain a yard. I wince and call him over as he slowly rises to his feet.
“Kid, you’re getting better at catching the ball, and you have speed on your side, but you can’t run the ball if they slam you the second you get it. You have to be able to take a hit and stay on your feet. Turn your shoulder in, protect the ball, and stay low. Give it all you got.”
I pat his shoulder, and he nods his head, running back to the field.
“Same play!”
“What kind of shit advice is that?” Robbie questions.
I look at him in shock. “You ever watch Little Giants? They have a female football player who flips a guy? The underdogs win?”
We watch the play unfold, and Liam follows directions, just as I knew he would. One of our larger players goes at him hard, trying to slam him again, but with Liam staying low, the larger kid is flipped clean over him. Liam manages to stay on his feet, making the play.
“I’ll be damned.”
“That, my friend, is how you teach a kid with heart.”
