Page 2 of Blitz'd

She started fucking Justin because I talked about Slade too much? Football is my life. My competition with him is the difference between me being the first pick in the draft or dropping to the second round.

And Justin is a fucking kicker. Why would she want that over a quarterback? He fucking sucks as a kicker anyway. He rarely gets us extra points and is only put in when our first-string kicker is taking a break.

“Z,” Russ says from behind me. “Time to go.” I turn around to him and his eyebrows scrunch. “The fuck? You good?”

I’m not sure of the expression on my face, but I smooth it immediately. He doesn’t need to know my bullshit. We gotta win this game. After we’re done, I’ll have fucking words with Justin.

I won’t try to fight him, as my career is more important than my pride or ego, but I’ll let him know that what he did was fucked up.

Shaking away the deep hurt of Megan’s revelation and the end of our relationship, I paste a smile on my face. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s get it, baby. We got a game to win.”

* * *

Fucking turf being stuck in my helmet is not how I banked on entering the second half of the game. I got sacked for the fifth time.

My head just ain’t in it. Every time I look over to our sidelines, I see Megan, who used to only have eyes for me, staring at and joking with Justin. That motherfucker lives on the sidelines, so it makes sense they have time to talk.

When I look over to the Meridian Panthers’ side, I see Slade, his hands gripping the top of his jersey, a smug grin on his face every time we have a turn over or my fucking helmet hits the ground.

This fucking game isn’t going how it should.

Coach McMillan throws his playbook on the ground in anger, then waves me over. I fucking fumbled the ball when I was sacked, so the play is turned over to the Panthers. Kerian slides his helmet on, eyeing me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes before he gets his game face on.

When I get to the sideline, McMillan grabs hold of my helmet, pulling my face level to his so he can shout at me. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you need to stow that shit. There is no fucking way I’m gonna lose this game. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach!” I shout back, my face burning in shame. “I’ll do better.”

“Fix your fucking shit. Next time one of your fucking girlfriends comes to my locker room, I’ll send their hot little ass away. Now get your head in the game and bring me a fucking W.”

“Yes, Coach!” I repeat.

Russ stands beside me, keeping up a running commentary of the plays like I can’t see what’s happening. His D line sat him out after he tweaked his ankle.

But I listen anyway. His analysis of the game empties my mind of the shit with Justin and Megan and their secret relationship.

Why didn’t she just tell me to stop talking about Slade? Why would she pretend she didn’t mind and fuck my teammate behind my back? Justin and I aren’t close, but he’s still my teammate. That’s breaking the fucking bro code or some shit.

Russ bumps me. “You’re up. Get this fucking TD so I can smash some fucking skulls, yeah?”

“Just for you,” I murmur with a half grin, sliding my helmet back on and running onto the field.

We line up, my O line spread out so they can cover me. I call the play, my eyes scanning the field to make sure I have room to run this route. I play it in my head quickly, then see movement from the left side of the Panthers’ D line. They’ve shifted. It was subtle, but I caught it, and none too soon. I’ve been sacked so many times this game, they probably thought I was easy pickings to do it again.

I didn’t become starting QB my sophomore year for nothing. When my head is in the game, I see everything.

Before the snap, I shout, “Audible, Green fourteen. Green fourteen.” My line shifts as well, turning inward so they can protect me from a blitz. “Hut, set hut!”

My center snaps the ball, and as soon as my hands close around it, I spin and take off, rushing for the first down. The defensive line for the Panthers isn’t expecting me to run, most of them covering my receivers and tight end. I duck under one D man, tuck the ball under my arm, and dig my feet into the turf. I could stop, I could slide after getting the first down, but there’s no one coming after me, so I keep going, running for a sixty-yard touchdown.

My teammates surround me, jumping on my back. We’re not supposed to, but we do an end-zone celebration, me and a few others posing as if the rest of the line is taking pictures of us.

Coach is beside himself when I get back to the sideline. “You just won us the game, boy!” he shouts, slapping the side of my helmet hard.

He’s not lying. We score one more touchdown, this one on fourth and twenty. There was no way I was going to let Justin on my field for a punt or a field goal. Let Megan see how fucking useless he is.

The Panthers talk their shit, but I don’t let it penetrate the thick shawl of impassiveness I cover myself with and block it all out. I grin when I see Kerian’s unmistakable expression of annoyance.

I’m floating on cloud nine as we shake hands with the Panthers after we win the game, until I glance over to our sidelines and see Justin and Megan standing there. Her arms are around his neck and he has both hands planted firmly on her ass. She meets my gaze and grins wickedly, standing on her tiptoes to flick her tongue over his ear. Her eyes flash with mischief, as if she knows her behavior is getting under my skin.

---