Page 56 of The Way We Score

Who am I kidding, I’m never going to bond with this guy.

“My man Grizz!” Our quarterback Charlie Johnson slaps both hands on the tops of my shoulder pads when I get to the sideline. “We’re not where we were, but we’re getting there!”

Ripping off my helmet, I take the Gatorade bottle from his hand. “I’m creating a hole. He just has to hold onto the ball.”

“He’s no Lightning Murphy, but I’m seeing improvement.”

Charlie is good at being a motivational team captain. The question is whether I’ll still be around when Ricky finally does get there. I think about my brothers after the show, taking it easy, laughing and hanging out, and I’m less satisfied than ever.

Glancing to the side, I see Johnson making a heart with his hands while he looks up at his box. One look, and I know he’s not signaling his mom. Maddy is up there, and it’s another twist of dissatisfaction in my gut.

Liv crosses my mind, and I wonder if I’d feel this way if she were up there smiling and blowing kisses to me right now. Would I still want to leave then? I toss the plastic bottle roughly, and walk over to sit on the bench, leaning forward on my forearms.

It’s not even possible, so why wonder?

The rest of the game goes pretty much like it always does, no surprises. I take it back, Ricky actually completes a pass. That’s a surprise.

We’re in the locker room, and the guys are amped up and snapping towels. Even without our help, we still won the game, and my teammates are full of post-game adrenaline.

“You coming out with us tonight?” Ricky walks over withhis towel around his waist acting like he did anything to be proud of tonight.

I remember how Logan would get if he underperformed. Even if we won, he’d be in a foul mood, more ready to train at ten p.m. than go out clubbing.

I guess that’s the difference between an MVP and a regular player. As much as Ricky likes to hot dog and say he’s the next Logan Murphy, he’s not. The years Logan and I played together were for the record books. Nobody’s talking about what we’re doing now.

“I think I’ll head back to my place.” I pick up my duffel bag and pull the bomber jacket over my shoulders.

“Hey, Grizz, you okay?” Johnson meets me at the end of the lockers as I’m walking to the door.

He’s packed up to go home as well, but the difference is he’s got a wife and a little baby waiting for him. His partying days are over, and his reasons for playing are very different from these guys.

“I’m good. What’s on your mind?” Reaching out, I hold the metal door for him to pass through.

“I don’t know. You’ve been sort of distant since we got back this year. It’s like you’re somewhere else or something. Distracted.”

We walk down the wide hallway leading to the exit, where we’ll be blinded by flashing lights. The cameras are all for him, since he’s the star quarterback this year. There was a time when a few of those flashes would’ve been for me, too, but not anymore.

“You know how it is, thinking about the game, how to play better next time.”

It’s a deflection. I’m not about to tell him my visit home for Dylan’s wedding pretty much cemented how I’ve been feeling about being here. It started the year after Logan left, then going home, seeing the guys with their families, and spending the night with Liv, confirmed everything I was already feeling.

Even if Charlie’s a good friend of mine, it’s too soon to tellhim about my plans. We’ve got twelve more games this season, and I don’t want to throw off his mojo. I also don’t want to be dropped back to second string, not that I’m afraid they’d do that. I guess it depends on how mad they are.

He studies my face. “You’d tell me if something was going on?”

“Of course.”

“Want me to see if Maddy has any friends you might like? Not that you need it, but she knows a few southern gals in the city. Might do you some good.”

“I’ll let you know if I do.”I don’t.Reaching for the door, I give him a tight smile. “Ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

We step out into the blinding flashes and shouted questions. Security is here to escort us to the black SUVs that will take us to our apartments, but it still feels like running the gauntlet.

With the help of my man Fred, I’m able to leave Charlie and the reporters along with his fans behind as I hop into my ride. I’ve just sat down and fastened my seatbelt when my phone lights up with a text.

One glance at the name and my entire mood changes.

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