Page 2 of Beautifully Conflicted

And not a second after the ball hits the dirt, so do I.

“Dude, get off me,”I grunt under the dead weight of Damien on my back.

“I’m working on it.” Damien’s weight shifts slightly as he starts rolling to the side.

“What’s your problem?” I buck my hips to push him the rest of the way off.

“No problem. I told you I like tackling.”

“Well, I don’t like being tackled when I don’t have the ball,” I grit, sitting up. My eyes become slits and my hands form into fists at my side.

“Don’t let me tackle you then.” He shrugs as if it’s as simple as that.

“Or, common sense says that you could stop taking cheap shots at me.”

Damien thrusts a hand in my face, and I stare at it a few seconds before allowing him to pull me the rest of the way up. “See my earlier comment.”

He grins broadly before jogging off, totally oblivious to the hole my eyes are trying to burn into his back.

He’s going down.

Damien

The sidewalk is empty as I make my way to the library, which makes sense since it’s the Sunday before the start of the semester. Most people don’t want to think about books or studying when they’ve got a precious few hours of winter break left.

I don’t want to think about classes either, but I know from experience it’s a good idea for me. I’m in desperate need of a quiet place to study that’s not my apartment. A place where I can sit and not get distracted every five seconds with things I need to do, like laundry, dishes, or making dinner, which I find more interesting than studying becausefood.

The thing is, it’s not that I don’t want to do my schoolwork or study. I enjoy my marketing classes and truly believe it’s the perfect major for me. Yet, when it comes to sitting still and focusing for more than ten minutes, I get jittery.

My brain wanders, and next thing I know, I’ve decided to reorganize my closet because that’s the new priority. Sometimes, it’s a mental tangent. I get lost daydreaming over childhood memories or wondering about how a certain food was invented and why someone thought to try deep-fried butter sticks.

However, the library is a room devoid of distractions. No sounds, no odd smells, oddly comfy chairs, and plenty of clean desk space. It’s perfect.

Luckily, the library also allows its patrons to book private rooms, and I plan to lock one down for the foreseeable future. And since campus is pretty empty still, I’m hoping I’ll have my pick of the schedule.

When I get inside the building, it’s dead quiet. I can’t even hear the faint rustle of turning pages or the occasionaltinkof a metal water bottle.

I find the reservation station and book a recurring slot for one of the single bays, noting the image of a bighorn sheep screensaver that replaces the form when I’m done.

Front Range University Bighorns.

I wanted to come here originally, but my skills on the field weren’t up to par, so I wasn’t one of the lucky few who got recruited straight out of high school. I got stuck at a mediocre program out of Utah.

More accurately, I got stuck with a mediocre team. That pains me to say since my teammates were great, but it’s true. They had more love for the game than skill, and since most of them never dreamt of taking things to the next level, it was the perfect place for them.

Me, though? I want something more. Something different. I don’t want to say goodbye to the game when I graduate, which my defensive coach could tell.

That guy was money, and he helped me improve my game during my freshman year. By the time my third year was over I looked pretty good on paper, but being good on paper doesn’t mean the NFL scouts will come crawling to the middle of nowhere for you. Especially, if that middle of nowhere college isn’t a top program.

My coach encouraged me to enter the transfer portal, and a few days after I put my name in, the Bighorns had me out for a visit.

Things happened in a blur after that. I finished my finals at Utah, went home for the holidays, and was on the FRU campus before New Years.

Which…sucked.

Watching the ball drop solo in my apartment wasn’t the most riveting experience, but at least I’ve had a few days to get settled in before practice starts tomorrow.

It may be January, but there’s plenty to do. Bulking up with weights. Speed and conditioning work. Learning a new playbook. Pretty much the only thing we won’t do is have full contact tackles. The team won’t risk injuries before we really get into the season.

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