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“Can you help me look for her?” I whisper to Gill, knowing he’ll help me out.

“Yeah. I could use a walk.” It was a lame excuse, but I appreciate him playing it off for me. My stomach is churning, a clear indication of my nerves. I don’t get nervous before games anymore. What happens, happens. I play my best and that’s all I can do. But this…something is off.

Gill and I make a quick pass through the facility, but everyone we come across remembers seeing her earlier, not sure where she is now, though. “Beiler!” I see him up ahead coming out of Heacock’s office with a scowl. “Hey, sorry. Have you seen Phia?”

Beiler shakes his head, his brows creasing. “Not for a while.” We follow him to the trainer’s room where she fills up the large water dispensers. They’re loaded onto the cart, all her cups and towels stacked and ready to go. No Phia.

“Maybe she’s taking a shit?” Gill suggests unhelpfully. I look under the cabinet and find her bag. Hands on my hips, I survey the room.

“Her stuff’s here…where is she?”

Beiler pats my shoulder on his way past me. “She’ll turn up on the field. She’s a consummate professional.”

“Yeah. I know. I just…”

“I get it man, but you need to get ready. We’re on the field in less than 10 minutes.” I suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. He’s right. I follow Gill and Beiler back to the locker room. Heacock gives his usual speech that none of us pay much attention to, but his last words catch my interest.

“Distractions are a liability you cannot afford. The next play, the next touchdown, the next game. Your focus should be in this locker room, on that field, and on the reputation of this university.” He steps aside and Beiler starts speaking. His words don’t register, my mind working overtime processing Heacock’s very pointed speech.

Usually, one of the first through the tunnel and on the field, I linger toward the back, hoping to find Phia. The surge of the crowd is difficult to ignore. I get through a quick warm-up, and offensive line huddle with Beiler before I allow myself to check on Phia. She’s not out here.

Lyndell is doing double duty today, as he fills cups and bottles and hands out towels to a few players. “Hey, Lyndell. How’s it going?”

“Good. Good. I’m water boy today.”

“I see that. Where’s Phia?”

“Oh, she had the green apple splatters and went home.”

A chuckle bursts free, “What?”

“Mr. Geary said she had the green apple splatters and had to use the home throne.”

I squeeze his shoulder with a smile. “Thanks, Lyndell.” I find Mr. Geary, the head athletic trainer for the team, a little further back on the sidelines. “Mr. Geary, Lyndell said you saw my girl.” His grin is infectious.

“Didn’t see her.” My lips dip down instantly. “She left me a note. Explosive diarrhea.” Leaning in close, he whispers, “I didn’t tell coach. He’d lose his shit if he found out she didn’t even talk to me.” Smirking, he snickers, “Pun intended.” I can’t bring myself to find any humor in the well-placed pun.

The game begins a few minutes later and I’m forced to put thoughts of Phia to the backburner. It’s not my worst performance, but certainly not my best. I know we haven’t been together for long, but we love each other. Surely, she would have found me to tell me she wasn’t feeling well. During half-time, I rush to my locker and find my phone. No messages. What the fuck?

“Any word?” I shake my head, my lips pursed, jaw clenched. Gill sits next to me on the bench in silence. Heacock screams and yells and throws a fit about our lackluster first half performance. We’re winning, but only by a touchdown, it’s still anyone’s game. He glares at me the whole time he’s talking, and I have zero fucks to give at this point.

“Crue.” Beiler steps up to me as we stand around to head back out. He waves his phone at me. “I called campus security; they’ll send someone to her apartment to check on her. Proof of life at least.”

“Dude, relax. She’ll yell from the toilet that she’s good and you can bring her some of the electrolytes mix from Geary’s office to aid in her recovery.”

“Yeah. Ok.” I nod at Gill. “Thank you, Coach.” I address Beiler who just offers me a closed-mouth smile and heads out to the field.

Second half isn’t much better, but we do manage to win by a field goal. Our kicker is getting shit-faced tonight in celebration of saving our asses. I’m the first in the showers and dressed. I book it down to Geary’s office for that drink mix Gill mentioned.

“Mr. Geary, can I get—” I stop short, my mouth snapping shut when my eyes land on Phia’s bag. In the same place it was earlier. I snatch it and dump it on the padded table. Her keys and phone are here. “BEILER!” I rush out, yelling his name.

He jogs to meet me in the corridor. “Campus police weren’t able to make contact.”

“She’s not home! Her bag is here with her keys and phone. She’s in this building.” I spin around, frantically searching for a sign of where to start looking for her. “Where is she?”

“What the fuck is going on out here?” Heacock stomps out of his office, glaring at both of us.

“Phia is missing.”

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