Page 50 of Second Down Scrooge

Hell of a fucking Christmas present.

These aren't things I should question and doubt, but because of who I am and the way I've acted towards people, they are.

That's on me. I should've treated people better, but as much as I'd like to, I can't change it. All I can do is deal with it now.

I feel shitty that I didn't answer Kelly’s call last night. I was at the Gridiron with a bunch of football players, and it was loud. I’d just confessed what I was going through to Asher, and I wasn't in a place to answer the call.

I was worried I’d wake her or Mia by the time I was able to call her, and besides, the way we left things yesterday…I’m just trying to give her space. I don’t want to come on too strong even though I want with everything in me for her to tell me she believes me.

Maybe I’m putting up walls. Maybe I’m avoiding her call because I don’t think I can bear to hear that she doesn’t believe in me.

And so instead, I’m waiting for the results of the retest. I wish I could say I’m innocent until proven guilty, but it appears I’m guilty, and now I need to prove my innocence.

The only reason I got any sleep at all last night was because I passed out, and I head to the shower to try to scrub away the hangover. It doesn’t work. I walk out to the kitchen to fry up some bacon and eggs.

I walk right past the tree I haven’t decorated yet. I turn on the television and flip to ESPN.

I’m only half-listening as I grab the supplies to make breakfast and start a Keurig to get some caffeine into my system. I need to beat this hangover fast so I can get to practice the second my test results come back in.

“Rumors in from Vegas this morning about the lab the Aces use for randomized testing mixing up specimens,” the reporter says.

I drop an egg on the floor at those words.

“This is a developing story.”

What the fuck?

I grab my phone, and I dial Jack Dalton’s office.

“This is Lily for Jack Dalton,” she answers.

“Lily, it’s Austin Graham. I need to talk to Jack.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graham, but he’s on another call,” she says. “May I take a message?”

“Have him call me as soon as possible. Please.” I hang up before she can ask more questions, and I dial my coach next.

“Austin, what can I do for you?” Lincoln answers.

“I just saw a headline on ESPN that the lab fucked up some of our test results. Do you know if mine were included in that?” I blurt.

“I haven't heard anything about this, but I will look into it immediately.”

“Coach?” I ask, my voice tentative regarding what I'm about to say.

“Yeah?”

“I know we didn't get off to the best start when you came in here, and I apologize for my part in that. But I want you to know I would never do something like this. I may not always do the right thing, but PEDs? That's not my style.”

He's quiet, and then he says, “I know that, Graham. I never really thought you would, but you know we have to follow protocol. Human error is always possible, and I really hope that's the case here.”

“I can assure you, Coach, it is. Unless someone slipped me something, I never knowingly took steroids,” I say.

“I'll look into the claims you're making about this lab, and can I tell you something else Graham?” he asks, and he plows ahead without waiting for me to answer. “I like the fire in you. I like it at practice, and I like it right now. You're not backing down. Someone who had something to hide wouldn't do that. I just want to say I believe you. Maybe I didn’t at first because of your track record, but I do now.”

I grip the phone a little tighter in my palm. “I appreciate that, Coach. It means a lot after everything we've been through.”

“Keep fighting, and we’ll get to the bottom of what's really going on here, okay?”

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