Page 14 of Saving the Halfback

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Gee, Dad, thanks for the pressure.”

He laughed at me as I walked into the house.

Just like that, the night before fled from my mind. I focused on getting ready and grabbing something quick to eat. Mom was in the kitchen, baking as usual, but as I turned around to leave, she stopped me and handed me a large container of freshmuffins. “In case anyone is hungry after practice,” she said, like it was no big deal she’d just handed me a few dozen muffins.

It was cold enough that I had to throw on a sweater. The drive to the city was completely clear, not a single car in sight. I shook my head. That’s because everyone was still warm in their beds, tucked in.

The only bonus to getting up so early was that the parking lot was empty when I got to the school. I made sure to not park close to Chase’s red car, though. I got out of the truck just as a loud rumble entered the parking lot.

The sleek black motorcycle revved as the driver glided into the lot and parked beside my truck. I tried not to stare, or at least make it obvious I was staring. A large sports bag was strapped to the back of the bike.

I started walking away when Nolan’s voice stopped me. “Where’re you going?”

I spun around. He held the helmet under his arm as he turned the bike off. “This isyours?” I asked, surprised. I walked up to it, this time staring and appreciatively taking it in like I’d wanted to do before.

“Well, I didn’t steal it.” He laughed, unbuckling his football bag and walking up to me. He wore a black leather jacket and leather biking pants. He tucked his gloves into his helmet. “I’m surprised you came. Did you have coffee yet?”

I shrugged. “Meh, I don’t drink coffee much. You?” We began walking down to the field.

“And risk vomiting it up? No, thanks. I didn’t have to drive forty minutes, though. I live like twenty away.”

“Lucky. I had to do chores before coming here, so I’ve been up for two hours already,” I complained.

“I’ll take your chores if you take my morning workout and protein shake.” He shuddered.

“You did a workout…before coming to practice?” I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to wreck your body?”

“I'm used to it.”

More guys were making their way to the field, some already on the field.

“Are you practicing with us?” Nolan asked.

“I’m watching this one. I’ll be up in the bleachers.”

“You came all this way at the ass crack of dawn just to sit in the bleachers?”

I shrugged. “Well, we will see.”

Coach waved at me and ran over. “Bailey, glad you could make it. How does the early morning feel?”

“I’m used to it,” I assured him.

He smirked. “Good. Our practices normally run two to three hours. Most of the time, we get out here, but there will be some days in the gym, library, and the weight room. I expect all players to watch their emails, so they know where to be.”

I nodded, not even realizing our school had a weight room.

“Have a seat, and watch how the team does practice. If you decide it’s not for you, no need to say anything. Just head on to school.”

“Thanks, Coach.” I walked over to the bleachers and sat down at the bottom. It wasn’t long before I was regretting my decision. The metal bleachers were frozen, and the cold was beginning to seep into my body with my lack of movement. Poor Nolan too. He looked cold as he pulled off his leather gear, wearing only his shorts and T-shirt. When he glanced back at me briefly, I gave him a smile and a wave, but to my shock, he started running back toward me.

“Here,” he said, taking his leather jacket and wrapping it around me. “You’d probably be warmer out on the field.”

I grabbed the edges of the jacket and pulled it in close. “Thanks.”

He ran back onto the field with Lachlan, who gave me a wink before turning around to join the group. I looked over everyone on the team to see if I knew any of them. Ethan and Chase were obvious, but I had quite a few classes with the others as well.

Soon, the whole team congregated together and began running. Nolan was in the lead as, one by one, everyone fell into a single file behind him. Nolan would call out—I couldn’t hear exactly what—and the last guy in line ended up sprinting to the front as the rest maintained a steady speed. Nolan called out again, and this time, it was Lachlan’s turn, sprinting hard as he made it to the front. It was the sixth guy that had to sprint who was having trouble. He didn’t seem to be able to push hard enough to take on the line; he was halfway there when he started slowing. Nolan called out a cheer, and the whole team chanted, clapping in tune.

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