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“Check your phone,” Sawyer said, “he sent it to the whole team. He wants everyone’s opinions on it.”
Sawyer scrolled through his phone, then passed it around the dinner table, Mom and Dad nodding at the new design which was similar to the dragon slayer one. Instead of the traditional boring shield, there was a player in a helmet sitting atop a dragon, and the words,Chargers to the Championship,along with the date. I really hoped I would get a commemorative shirt.
I picked up my phone, reading Coach’s message to the squad:Let me know if you approve of this new design!
With a racing heart, I typed in my approval. But my words didn’t stop atIt’s great, Coach, I love it.No, I felt compelled to write more.
More than I probably should have.
Chapter 15
Cullen
As soon as we enteredthe house, the aroma of home cooking hit hard, making my mouth water. However, I knew it was senseless to follow my nose into the kitchen. Championship week had started, and by game time I was going to be at my leanest and meanest, according to Dad.
“Oh, you’re back,” Mom said brightly, greeting us at the foot of the staircase, though she grimaced slightly at the state of me. I hadn’t seen myself but I imagined my cheeks were red, my face grimy, my hair plastered down with sweat. “Wash up for dinner?”
“Yep,” I said, climbing the stairs two at a time.
“It’ll be ready in—” I didn’t hear the rest, already having made it to the solitude of my room. It was tempting to lie down on the bed and not get up. It had been a grueling day with Dad, not so much the physicality of it, though of course it had been tough, but it had been the constant barrage directed at me—this was it, the pinnacle, the ultimate, the prize. There had been no let up, no respite, just a continuous flow of dreams transpiring and destiny being fulfilled.
Yeah Dad had pushed me, but I knew to expect that. That was my life. But I was over it. And that’s because there was something a little more pressing on my mind.
Sierra.
I didn’t want to think about yards and passes when Sierra was preoccupying my mind. What I wanted was a few minutes of silence, alone time, to be able to ponder, dwell, relive those kisses, that feeling of holding her in her arms.
I wanted to see Sierra, talk to her, heck I wanted to get lost in her.
But I hadn’t been able to contact her since Dad had treated me like I was a five year old kid and embarrassingly pulled me out of the Huntington house. He’d restrained himself, oh boy, had he restrained himself in Mr. Huntington’s presence, but the minute he had me at the track, running sprint after sprint, pushups, jump squats, burpees, he relinquished any self control.
He exhibited his tyrannical ways, raising his iron fist in his quest to achieve his goals, and I could only comply. I’d been raised to comply. I didn’t know hownot tocomply. After all, this wasit,the end goal, playing for the state championship title.
And yet, it wouldn’t end here, would it?
I set the water temperature to as cool as I could tolerate, instinctively knowing it would help with recovery. But, so too would the warm water of a hot tub. My mind wandered to last night with Sierra, sitting opposite her, feet entangling, her beautiful brown eyes, full cheeks that puffed out with her smile, and her enthusiasm over football, over the team. She’d reminded me how much I loved the game, and today Dad took that all away again.
