Page 54 of Red Zone Realizations
“I will, Dad.” I glance at the clock. I only have thirty minutes to grab my stuff before the team is scheduled to travel back home. “I’ve got to go get packed up for the flight home.”
“Okay. Maybe use that time to think about how you’re going to change your attitude.”
“Bye, Dad.” I hang up before he can go on any longer. It’sbeen a while since he got to chew me out for something this stupid, I’m sure he had more pent up and ready to go, but I really do have to get going.
Getting talked to like a teenager again really makes me feel like I was right earlier when I thought my suit and tie made me feel like I was playing dress up in my dad’s clothes. The truth is the size of his legacy might never fit me.
I don’t usually get rowdy with the boys after a game, but tonight I’m making an exception. I’ve been trying to deal with my emotions all the right ways and none of that shit saved me. So, tonight I’m going to get blasted. I obviously didn’t have enough time to feel sorry for myself during the game, so I’m extending it into the night. And then to the drive home tomorrow when I’m hungover beyond belief.
We’re at a bar in downtown Dallas that Mack used to go to when he went to college here and it’s packed to the fucking brim. You can barely walk without bumping into someone or getting a drink spilled on your shoes. The music is so loud I can barely hear Wyatt as he practically screams in my ear that he’s ordering another beer. Colin, Jaden, Wyatt, Mack, and I are all in the upstairs VIP lounge that’s roped off and overlooks the thrumming dance floor below.
When we pulled up to the red brick building nestled in downtown, we were quickly whisked into the bar and up the stairs. Four waitresses dressed in black immediately came up to us and spoke to Colin (our obvious leader), who apparently ordered bottle service. Not ten minutes later, two waitresses return with bottles of vodka in hand. The other two carrythose cheesy indoor sparklers all clubs have. If people didn’t know we were here before, they do now.
The problem with bottle service is you serve yourself and I have no bartending experience. I mean, I worked at a Wendy’s in high school. I spent most of that time working the drive-thru eating stolen chicken nuggets. I have no idea what a shot should look like in a full-size glass. After two hours of mixing our own drinks, we’re all three sheets to the wind. Jaden is missing his tie, and it’s likely he will be on the plane home tomorrow without it.
Wyatt leans way too close to me, and I can smell the liquor on his breath. I’m sure mine smells the same. “What are you going to do about Audrey?”
I do not want to talk about this. Doesn’t he realize I’m drinking all my emotions away, including the ones from that shitty game?
“What about her?” I shout back.
“To get her back!” He gives me a look likeduh.
“I haven’t lost her.”
“Maybe not right this second, but any day now she could get swept off her feet by some other dude at yoga. And it’s against your contract to do yoga during the season.”
I shake my head. “She knows I’m serious about her.”
“Does she?”
“Yes!”
“How? What have you done to prove it?” I’m thinking but he goes on. “Do you post about her online? Does she have your jersey? A game-worn one? Do you know her Chipotle order?”
“Really, Chipotle? Do you know Nash’s?”
“A burrito with steak, brown rice, corn, medium salsa, lettuce, and shredded cheese.”
“Fuck,” I huff. It’s a no to all those things.
Wyatt sees the defeat in my eyes and pats me gently on the back. “You still have time to show her.”
I’ve done the readings and the work. I’ve had the time and space to make up my mind. I’m ready to get her back. I take my phone out of my pocket. “I can start right now.”
“That’s the winning answer, broski.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
AUDREY
SEPTEMBER
I canceled my morning yoga class because I stayed up all night watching replays and breakdowns of Noah’s scuffle. I probably watched it a thousand times trying to make out the words. Watching Noah push the other guy around. It was scary and hot at the same time. Made me want to let him throw me around a little.
My doorbell rings at eight on the dot.
Who could be here this early?
