Page 11 of Fair Catch
His eyes found mine then, and I knew just by the way he leveled his gaze that this wasn’t up for debate.
I forced the slowest inhale I could manage, letting it out through flaring nostrils as I compelled myself to smile. Through my teeth, I muttered the only possible response there was.
“Yes, Coach.”
He nodded. “Good. Go eat. Team meetings start in twenty.”
That was my only dismissal before Coach Sanders was picking up his phone to call someone, and I let myself out of his office, ignoring the dozens of eyes that followed me when I did. No one muttered a word to me, but I knew as soon as I was out of the locker room, there’d be speculation.
I changed quickly out of my practice shorts and jersey into comfortable joggers, a tank top, and a light hoodie. I knew from the summer that it could be cold in those meeting rooms, regardless of the weather outside.
And the entire time I changed, I kept my cool.
It wasn’t until I was down the hall and ducking into the women’s bathroom by the cafeteria that I allowed myself a moment, slamming my back against the door once it was closed. My head fell back, a thunk against the metal, and I closed my eyes on a sigh.
I knew the season would be tough. I knew, like Coach mentioned, that I’d have a lot of odds stacked against me. I was prepared for the ice out from the team. I was prepared for the jokes at my expense. I was prepared to not be taken seriously, to have to prove myself every step of the way.
I was not prepared for this.
Now, not only was I the girl on the football team, but I was rooming with the one person in the entire world whom I truly hated.
Fucking perfect.
Riley
“This might be the only time I’m not jealous of you, sis,” Gavin said, wrinkling his nose as he wheeled his chair over to the corner of my new bedroom. It was small, barren, and had a mattress that looked like it could be from the seventies with the amount of stains on it.
“What, you don’t love the aroma?” I teased, waving my hand in front of my face as if to waft up the air even more as I took a big whiff. “Ah… smells like musty jock strap and body odor.”
“You’re disgusting.”
I chuckled, tapping the box I’d just set on the bed. “I’ve got one more on the cart. Be right back.”
With that, I left my brother in my room, thankful that the freshman team dorms at least had the courtesy to have separate bedrooms. Zeke and I would share a bathroom and small kitchenette, as well as an abysmal living area that had a couch in similar condition to my mattress, but I loosened a sigh of relief when I saw I had my own room, and a door — one I already knew I’d keep closed at all times.
I jogged out to the golf cart I’d rented to move my belongings over from my temporary summer dorm, retrieving the last box before I made my way back inside. I had to dodge my teammates all the way down the hall, their dorm rooms left open as they tossed footballs back and forth, played video games with a crowd gathered around them, assembled pull-up bars in their doorways, took videos for social media, and God knew what else.
I kept my eyes down and ignored them, just like I had through most of camp. The only one I even remotely acknowledged was Holden, who had been kind to me the last few weeks and was the only one on the team besides Zeke to acknowledge me.
“You need help with that?” he asked as I passed his room, just three doors down from ours.
Any girl, regardless of sexual orientation, would be hard pressed not to blush a little when they held Holden Moore’s attention. He was perhaps the most beautiful specimen I’d ever seen, with sandy-blond hair and electric green eyes, dimples, and a body like Adonis — which he was showcasing now without a care in the world, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet from the shower.
I hoped like hell the flush in my cheeks wasn’t showing when I answered. “I got it. Thanks, though.”
He nodded, and the smirk he gave me was the same as every day, one that told me to keep my head up.
When I made it back to my dorm, I kicked the door shut with my heel, heaving the last box back to my room and setting it on the floor next to Gavin’s wheelchair.
“I can’t let you sleep on this mattress,” he said, grimacing at an indistinguishable stain at the foot of it.
“And I can’t be the Princess and the Pea who asks for anything else.” I shrugged, hanging my hands on my hips. “It’ll be fine. I’ll get a mattress pad.”
