Page 12 of Changing the Play

“This is a Bills game. They’re playing the Dolphins.”

I nod, even though that means nothing to me. “Okay, and who do we like?”

“We?” West snorts. “We like the Bills.”

I grin. “Cool. Do they win?”

He laughs. It’s loud and happy, and it almost stops my heart. Not good. Not good at all. I’m freaking out a bit. “Yeah, they win. I wouldn’t show you a game of them losing.”

That’s a fair point. “Okay, Coach. I’m ready to learn.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, turning his attention to the computer screen. He points as the game goes on, talking about routes, penalties, and strategy. I don’t understand half of what he’s saying, but I find myself leaning closer, completely enamored with the excitement and passion in his voice.

He pauses the game and rewinds it a bit. “So here,” he says, pointing to the screen. “This is a holding call. See how he grabs his jersey. That’s illegal.”

I nod, trying to keep up. “Okay, so they’ll lose yards, right?”

“Right. Each play is hopefully being made to gain yardage, but at times, you get a penalty, and you lose it. Other times you get sacked.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask, interrupting him.

“It’s when the quarterback gets tackled before he either throws or passes off the ball behind the line of scrimmage.”

I nod. “Okay. Makes sense.” It doesn’t. Not really. It makes a little sense. I’m following in like… the broadest way. At least it’s easier to understand now than it was on the video I was trying to watch. “So each play is meant to move you forward, right? But occasionally, it doesn’t work, and you lose yards instead?”

“You’ve got it. And sometimes, you don’t gainorlose. Like if there’s a dropped pass. You stay in the same field position.”

I nod to myself, making a mental note of that. “Historical strategies are much the same. Like battle lines shifting during wars. Each action is done with the hopes that you’ll advance in your objective. But sometimes, the countermove pushes you back. Other times it doesn’t.”

West glances at me, his eyebrow raised. “Huh. I didn’t look at it that way.”

“We’ve just got to find the connections to make it relevant.”

We go back to watching the game. West keeps a running monologue the entire time, breaking down each play. A couple of times, he goes backward to show me something again that I didn’t quite understand the first time. Not once does he seem impatient or put out with my lack of knowledge. Not that I really expected anything different. If you had asked me before I met him on Wednesday, I might have, but he’s surprised me in more ways than one.

When the game is over, I feel a little bereft. It took us almost five hours to watch it, and it’s closing in on midnight, but for some reason it doesn’t feel like that much time has passed. Part of me doesn’t want to go home, but I also know I can’t stay here. I came to learn about football so I could make connections for West, and even though my overall knowledge is still small, I do feel more equipped to handle that task.

The screen has gone dark, and West and I are sitting in silence. “Would you like to order in? I could go for something sweet.”

I find myself nodding without even thinking about it. I know I have no business saying yes. I also know that spending any time with him outside of our tutoring sessions is bound to end up badly. I find him fascinating. I’m drawn to him. And that will only hurt me in the end.I should be telling him no and setting up our next tutoring session. “What did you have in mind?”

He sits up, pure excitement on his face. “There’s this hole in the wall place down the road. I’m telling you, Darcy, they have cookies that are to die for. Like died and gone to Heaven good.”

I chuckle. “Okay, I’m in.”

His face lights up, and he pulls his phone out. “What’s your poison? They have basically everything you can imagine, but I’m a sucker for their double brownie fudge. It basically melts in your mouth, and it’s sweet without being too sweet. Holy shit. So good.”

“I’m a classic chocolate chip guy myself, but you’re making a strong case for the other.”

He starts dialing a number. “I’ll just get a variety pack. I can’t let you leave without reaching cookie nirvana.”

I laugh, sitting patiently while he places the order. As we wait for the cookies to arrive, my eyes gravitate to the book still sitting on the arm of the couch. “You said you read it in high school.”

West cocks his head to the side. “Huh?”

I point at the book. “Pride and Prejudice. You said you read it in high school.”

“Ah.” His cheeks flush pink, and he lets out a small chuckle, sounding a little embarrassed. “Yeah, so I did. The first time. I’ve read it a lot.”

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