Page 125 of Home Town Advantage
He hates that I won’t go public with ourrelationship yet, but I think it’s best. Their team is undefeated. He needs to focus on football, not dealing with paparazzi, media stories, and speculation about us.
VANCE
After a fifteen-yard slant pass to Champ, he’s tackled inbounds. I quickly make my way to the line and spike the ball with ten seconds left on the game clock, not wanting to burn our last timeout. We’re down three points and only four or five yards away from Presley’s field goal range. A field goal would tie the game and send it to overtime.
Quickly running over to Coach, I ask, “What do you want to do?”
He furiously runs his eyes over his laminated play card before they raise to meet mine. “Are you feeling feverish?”
I crack a smile. “Always.”
He nods. “Don’t force it. Wishbone formation with the slant option. They’ll think we’re running the ball and going for the three.”
“Yes, sir.”
I start to walk away, but he grabs my jersey and pulls me back to him. “Only if you’re certain it’s there. I don’t want to let this one get away from us. I’d rather take our chances in overtime.”
“I know. I got it.”
I run back to the huddle and let the guys know the plan. We’re stacking the backfield, setting the decoy. They assume Champ is going to run the ball with the protection of our fullbacks. In reality, I’m looking downfield for the longball and the win. If it’s not there, Champ will break from his man and head to the sideline for a quick pass to secure us being in field goal range.
I step under center and stomp my foot to set Daylen in motion. Hopefully the other team will assume he’s blocking for Champ, meaning he’ll only have single-man coverage.
I yellhikeand everyone moves to do their job. As soon as the safety realizes it’s not a run play, he sprints across the field to double-team Daylen. Reece is the only receiver in man-to-man coverage, but I have no faith in him, not with the game on the line. I go for my third option, the safe play, and throw the ball to Champ, who catches it, putting us just within Presley’s range.
I’m stewing over this turn of events. If Linc were available, I would have thrown him the ball. Just before the season started, Reece “accidentally” dropped a twenty-five-pound barbell on Linc’s foot. The poor kid broke two toes. He wanted to tape them and play, but our trainers wouldn’t clear him until he’s fully healed. He should be ready to go in the next few weeks, but not quite yet.
Champ is tackled inbounds, so I quickly burn our last timeout with two seconds left on the clock. When I run over to the sidelines, Daylen shoves my chest. “Let her rip next time. I would have fucking caught it. I had a step on my guy.”
My jaw tightens as I shove him back. “The free safety was sliding over. It was too risky. My call. I made the right one.”
He shakes his head. He doesn’t agree. That’s the thing about being the quarterback. You’re the decision maker, and those decisions are made in split seconds.
He mumbles, “You would have thrown that ball ten years ago.”
I sigh. “And it would have been knocked down or intercepted, and we would have lost the game right then and there. Better to be safe and go for the tie. We’ll win it in overtime.”
He lightly punches my shoulder and mumbles, “You’re right.”
To an outsider, it would look like Daylen and I were fighting. We weren’t. We’re competitors. Emotions run high in bigsituations. When the game is over, this disagreement will be forgotten. In fact, it already is.
We stand on the sidelines as Presley lines up to take the kick. It’s a long field goal, but Presley nails it through the uprights as time expires to tie the game.
We head into overtime, but the other team wins the coin toss and scores a touchdown on their first drive. I never even get the chance to touch the ball in overtime. It’s our first loss of the season. A tough one at that.
My teammates head into the locker room with their heads down, but I sit on the bench replaying the last play in regulation over and over again. Should I have thrown long and gone for broke? I played it safe, and all we have to show for it is a loss. Daylen was right. In my youth, I would have gone for it. If we’re going to go all the way this year, I need to have faith in my teammates, especially a veteran like Daylen. I need to take a few more calculated risks to get us to the next level.
Eventually, I head into the tunnel toward the locker room, still feeling conflicted over my decision making and distraught over the loss. As I enter the tunnel, I see her standing there, leaning her back against the wall, wearing my jersey. An immediate sense of calm filters through me.
She pushes herself off the wall when she sees me. “Are you okay?” she asks with concern written all over her face.
I approach her, wrap my arms around her, and breathe her in. “I’m better now.”
She looks around, undoubtedly making sure there are no prying eyes. I wish I could love my girl out in the open. More importantly, I wish she’d love me out in the open. It pisses me off that we have to be careful, but this is what I agreed to, and I have no interest in rocking the boat. Things have been too good lately between us. It’s like we’ve achieved a whole other level of intimacy. Finally having her completely trust me means everything to me.
Her hands grab either side of my face, so I’m forced to lookat her. “It was the right decision. The safety was moving over. Daylen wasn’t open. You can’t force it.”
“Daylen doesn’t agree.”
