Page 13 of 2nd and 7

That was completely and utterly unexpected. I have a lot to think about, I guess. But first, I have a crowd to rev up. On the field, I run from one end to the other, pumping my arms, pitting seating section against section in an effort to determine who’s the loudest. I’m sweating, I’m hot, but my smile won’t quit. Not that anyone can see it. Before the 1stquarter begins, I spot Edee near the student section. She glances up from behind her camera, her face lighting up when she sees me rushing her direction. Her eyes widen and she lets out a squealing laugh as I bend low to wrap my arms around her legs and lift her up. She starts snapping pics of the crowd as they go wild at my antics.

“What has gotten into you?” she speaks loud enough for me to hear her.

I answer honestly, “Hope.”

Edee 8.

“Will he sleep all night?” I ask, shifting on Ty’s couch in his shared apartment with Lyndell.

“Yeah. Game day always wears him out,” Ty says, taking a seat right next to me. Our legs touch, the hair of his warm legs brushing against my smooth thighs. “The excitement of the game, all the people, and his laundry duties. It’s a lot for him sometimes. He really likes Phia, and he was ecstatic she was back.” Ty chuckles with a fond smile as he speaks about his brother.

Lyndell is the one who invited me back to their apartment, though Ty insisted he was just about to ask. It was cute how they bickered about it. Lyn was barely able to stay awake long enough to finish eating his dinner. He kissed my cheek, told me he’d see me in the morning, and Ty snores so he hoped I brought ear plugs. I just laughed, my stomach uneasy in a good way, having had no plans to stay the night. I just wanted to spend time with Lyn and Ty. The Wicawiil brothers are better than any tv show, movie, or book.

Especially since Ty looks like every book boyfriend I’ve ever latched onto. Smart. Compassionate. Patient. Driven. And hot as Hades. Something about the bald head and neatly trimmed goatee do it for me. Of course, the defined muscles might have something to do with it. Who knows?

“Come here.” He slides an arm around my waist and hauls me into his lap. Oh, well, that progressed quickly. I thought we’d talk some more, but if he wants to fool around, I ain’t gonna argue. Mom didn’t raise no fool. “I want to talk to you about something.” I don’t know what I do with my face, but he starts laughing. Hard. It’s not amusing in any way. My vagina literally sighs in disappointment. “Sorry, baby.” Ty uses his hands on my back to pull me into him so he can kiss me. Ok. This is better. We kiss for a long while, his tongue caressing mine, his hands slowly mapping out the contours of my body. I arch my back slightly, thrusting my tits out in the hopes he’ll play with them, but he breaks the kiss with a groan. “I really do need to talk to you.”

“It can’t wait?”

“It can…but I know it’ll run on a loop in the back of my mind, and I don’t want anything to distract me once I get to unwrap your body. Run my tongue over every fucking inch of your silky skin. Taste you until your flavor is fused into my DNA.” His words are making me so hot. Unconsciously, I’m rocking my pelvis, wanting everything he’s talking about. He releases a tortured groan, stilling me with his fingers digging into my hips.

This position isn’t helping, and I know he’s serious about needing to talk. Reluctantly, I slide back off his lap, but he drapes my bare legs over his lap. His hands are so big, wrapping easily around my thick thighs and defined calves.

“Go ahead. What’s on your mind?” I ask, a shiver working its way down my spine as he absently traces patterns on my legs with his fingertips. How is a person supposed to think when he does that?

“I am almost finished with my degree in Special Education.” Oh, Ty.

“Because of Lyn?”

“Yes. And others like him. So many who lack adequate support and resources.” His tone is indicative of his own personal struggle to find those same things for Lyn. “And I was content with my plan. Starting in January, I would send out resumes and try to find a job in my field while I work on my master’s.”

I swallow hard. “But now?” Have I done something to derail his future?

“Now, Coach Beiler has offered me a spot on the coaching staff for the football program.” I blink several times, in shock.

“Do you…do you want to be a coach?” We haven’t really spoken about his past. I know he played football and there was an accident. But I don’t know specifics. For all I know, he hated football and was thrilled to become the mascot. Or…football was his dream, and it was ripped away from him by the cruel hand of fate.

“I do.” He looks surprised by his own answer. “I do want to coach. I miss it.” His voice drops to just above a whisper, “I miss it so much. I love being the mascot. I do. And I’m grateful that the university worked with me to find me something else to do to keep my scholarship, to give me a new purpose. And though I love and miss the game, I’m glad I didn’t have to endure Heacock for long. It’s just…I pivoted, accepted my limitations, and threw myself into this new purpose.”

I scooch closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck. “What happened?” He exhales shakily and I instantly regret prying. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to…that was intrusive…I’m so sorry—” He cuts me off with his mouth. It’s soft and gentle and necessary.

“I guess I should start at the beginning.”

“That’s usually the best place.” He snorts in response, his eyes drifting to the side, clearly lost in the memories of his past.

“Lyndell was born prematurely. His mother was an addict. When they finally brought him home from the hospital, our dad would go to work, and I don’t know if he was just that dumb or he didn’t care but he would leave Lyndell with the addict girlfriend. I’ve been told by our dad’s mom, that Lyn’s mom got angry one time when he wouldn’t stop crying, and she shook him. Violently. He was already developmentally delayed, but the shaking…” Tears fill my eyes, and I don’t stop them as they roll down my cheeks. My heart breaks for Lyndell. “In so many ways, he's still a child, despite being 30 years old. Anyway, his mom died from an overdose and our grandmother took care of Lyndell. Then dad met my mom, and he knocked her up. I was born and it wasn’t long for my mom to realize she didn’t want to be a mother to anyone, especially not someone else’s ‘retard’.” I suck in a harsh breath, unable to comprehend treating anyone like that, let alone children. “So, for years grandma took care of us and dad worked and then she died when I was 9. She wasn’t the nicest lady, but she fed, clothed, and cleaned us up. At 9 years old I became Lyndell’s primary caregiver. In middle school, my guidance counselor suggested football. I didn’t have time for it, but he insisted I try it. He and his wife helped me with Lyndell. I was good. Really good. Had an arm like a rocket. Natural talent. And that talent got me a full ride to several universities. But here…Heacock was a massive dick, just wanted me for my arm. But Beiler and several others went to bat for me. To this day, I don’t know how they did it, but my place on the team secured housing for Lyndell and me, as well as Lyndell’s acceptance into the Good Work program.”

I’m a blubbering mess right now. I can’t believe…so much in such a short life and to turn it around into something positive. To be so caring and understanding and to love Lyndell so fiercely…Tyrone is an exceptional human being.

“I knew I liked Beiler.” Ty smiles. I don’t know what else to say. Stupid platitudes and clichéd expressions are out of place in this conversation.

“You ever heard the saying, ‘When you plan, God laughs’?” I nod, my mom has said something similar to that for as long as I can remember. “I planned, I mapped out our future, I considered every contingency my freshman year. I had an opportunity that I would not waste. I kept my nose clean and buried in books, I worked out every chance I got, I practiced privately to hone my skills. I had a gift…” He trails off and my stomach bottoms out. I knew this part was coming, but I got caught up in his story.

He shakes his head so forlornly. I can’t stand the distance and now I understand why he wanted me to sit in his lap in the first place. I wrap myself around him tight, as if I can keep his pieces together by sheer will and body mass alone.

“Summer after my freshman year, Lyndell had been having seizures. He’s had them his whole life, but they were growing more frequent and far more intense than I’d ever seen. I was driving us to his doctor’s appointment when he started convulsing in the front seat. I don’t really know how it happened, but one minute I was trying to pull off the road to take care of him and the next paramedics and the fire department were using the jaws of life to retrieve me from the mangled remains of my car. I remember screaming for Lyndell. I bruised my vocal chords in the process, but I wouldn’t stop until I laid eyes on him. He was hurt, bleeding, and disoriented. The car was on its side. I basically crushed the right side of my body. The doctors told me that another vehicle hit us, we spun, and I tried to protect Lyn and ended up twisted in the driver’s seat facing the wrong direction.”

“Ty.” He rubs my back as I sob. I’m trying to keep it quiet, this isn’t about me, but I can’t…these two men have burrowed theirway into my heart, and it isn’t going to give them up anytime soon, if ever.

---