Page 16 of Flame After the Fumble

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell, “Goldie!” Locke is too far into the thick crowd to hear, but Liza’s head snaps back, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite figure out. I wave for her to take a few steps closer to me. “If you needed a drink, all you had to do was ask.”

“That’s the thing,” she rolls off her tongue, the sweet smell of alcohol rolling off her tongue and her proximity turns my mind to mush. “Getting a drink with Locke is unserious. He knows the score.” She reaches to the top of my arm and rubs her nails downto my fingers, sending goosebumps across my skin. “Getting a drink with you would mean more, and I can’t have you thinking I can give you anything but here and now.”

I swallow the sensations she brings out in me. “You’re right.” My thumb rubs across her fingers, still firmly planted on my sweaty hand. “Here and now will never be enough for the two of us. Would it?” I shoot her a wink to her before forcing myself to unlock our touch. Never taking a moment to look back at her. Because that would mean seeing her join Locke at the bar, kiss him, maybe grind on him to dance. Yeah, I can’t do that to myself. What I need is a distraction, and Kali from earlier will do the trick.

11

Hartley

Sophomore Year

“Knox! In my office. Everyone else, get in the shower because you stink on and off the field.” Coach walks off the field, ending another grueling summer practice in the Florida heat. His face sports a permanent scowl of disgust for our on-field performance. We had a decent season last year, but we’re competitors, and it’s never good enough. We always wantmore, for ourselves, our team, and our program. I managed to make a splash with impressive receiving yards and acting just nutty enough during my interviews to earn a few Sportscenter clips. NIL deals rolled in, and I shamelessly accepted one for sports headbands. I'm glad I play at a time where college athletes can be paid for brand deals. Apparently, I made a fashion statement last season with my colorful headbands to push back my flow.

“What did you do now?” Ryan hits me with a disappointed look and scolds me like a father would—if I had one worth anything.

“You know, just being my star-studded self.” I glance over at him with a wry smile, downplaying the knots in my stomach at Coach’s tone.

“Would you take something seriously for once? Coach was fuming.”

“No need to worry until I have to.” I wink as Ryan shakes his head and turns into the locker room. I continue down the vacant hall and knock on Coach’s office door.

“Come in,” he says.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I paint on my best charming persona and remind myself that nothing can get to me.

“Sit.”

Yep. He’s definitely mad.

He rustles with a packet of papers on his desk before slipping on his reading glasses. Flipping an official-looking document toward me he says, “Care to explain this?”

I reach over his wood grain desk and lift off the cushioned chair to grab the paper from his hands. Typed on it is my official college transcript and my stomach bottoms out, raising bile up my throat to the tip of my tongue. I’m aware that I didn’t light the world on fire academically during my freshman year of college, but it’s never warranted a meeting. Sophomore level classes will hit me hard. I haven’t checked my averages from last year, but most of my quizzes were returned with failing grades. I cross my leg over my other and lean back in the chair. “It looks to me like this is all the evidence I need to confirm that football is my future.”

“Funny, Knox. I’m glad you’re taking this so seriously.” He guffaws before wrapping his hands together and leaning over the desk. “The dean of this university brought this to my desk this morning. He wants to know why the Springs U breakout star has a 2.0 GPA.” He doesn’t scream or flail his arms around. His toneis flat and his eyes dark, making this a scarier conversation. “The dean doesn’t peruse in my office all that often, Knox.”

“I’ll do better this year,” I assure my coach. “It’s the first grade check.”

“You better hope so, because you’re on academic probation.”

“Probation?! What does that mean?” My voice raises as I grip the arms of my chair tighter, veins undoubtedly popping from my forehead.

“It means that if you don’t bring your GPA up to a 2.3 by December, you’ll be off the team.” Coach levels me with a hard look as he leans over his desk.

“I. . . I. . . can’t. Football is everything. What. . .” My breaths quicken and a weight the size of an elephant is planted directly on my chest. Dark circles creep into my vision making it haze in the fluorescent light of the office.

“I’ve referred you to the Department of Academic Excellence. I suggest you pay them a visit before the semester begins and secure a tutor.” He slides a class schedule across the desk to me. “And I’ve worked with the dean to tweak your schedule. You shouldn’t have a problem getting higher grades in these courses.”

“Thank you, Coach. I won’t let you down.” I nod, grab my new schedule, and turn my back to exit his office.

As I crack the heavy wooden door open to skirt out, Coach says, “Don’t letyourselfdown.” Gulping the freshly rising bile, I throw a silent head nod over my shoulder, not stopping at the locker room for my equipment on the way out the facility.

I drive home in silence, processing the breaking news Coach laid on me. Probation isn’t an option, so I need to figure out how to start strong this semester, grades wise. Sliding my keys into the pocket of my athleisure shorts, I take a deep breath and fold my new schedule into a tiny square to shove in the same pocket. I try my best to sneak in without alerting Violet, but she’s got thesenses of a cat, and swarms me the minute I walk through the door.

“How was practice?” she asks all giddy, still sporting her polka dot pajama set.

“Same old, same old. Sweaty, hot, and grueling.” I run my hand down my face in an attempt to convince Violet that my mood is because practice maxed me out.

“I don’t know how you do it.” She purses her lips and rocks back and forth on her feet. “I cooked sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits this morning and saved one for you.”

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