Page 69 of The Game Plan

Tomorrow I have to put on my game day suit and sit on the sidelines as my teammates take on our conference rivals. I have to sit on the sidelines and watch as my brothers battle it out without me. My hands itch to touch the shitty astroturf and tear down any guy who gets in my way. My heart hammers in my chest like I’m on the field, ready to attack anyone who dares to get past me.

Except I’m in this dinky hotel two blocks off campus of the university with the roommate from hell and an itch in my veins I can’t scratch. I’m benched. I made the decision to beat the shit out of O’Rourke, and I got caught doing it. It’s time to suffer the consequences.

Okay, so maybe Greg’s not so bad. He lets me take the first shower instead of using up all the hot water. He doesn’t bring girls back to our shared room. He sits there with his books and gets his homework done during our quiet study time. There are a lot worse roommates to be had on the road.

At least my parents won’t be there to see me sitting out the game. Since it’s an away game—and I’m not playing—I told them not to travel. Ash has a cheer competition they should be at. They’ve always done a good job at not picking between us, not prioritizing one kid’s athletics over another, but my sisters tend to get the short end of the stick. I can’t help that my games are nationally televised and the cameras usually pan to the family section.

They shouldn’t have to choose this week. I made it so they didn’t have to.

I roll over and mourn my cold, empty bed. I’ve gotten used to sleeping with Sam. It’s only been a few days, but already, I feel the absence of her presence here beside me. I like being able to hold her as she falls asleep, that she feels safe enough and comfortable enough with me to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

I fall asleep some time before dawn. I’m woken up by Greg doing his pregame yoga in the tiny space between our beds.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he chirps. His hair is coming out of his bun, wild and loose about his face.

“Fuck you.”

“Breakfast is in an hour,” he reports. “You going to join us?”

I roll over and crawl out of bed. My head feels achy, and my mouth is as dry as cotton. I probably only slept for two, maybe three hours. If I don’t sleep tonight, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Maybe I can convince Sam to stay over again—no sex, just cuddling. I like cuddling with her.

Okay, maybe a little sex. Sex and cuddling and early to bed.

Shit. No. We have that stupid frat party to go to. Damn it.

I know it’s important that I meet her friends, that they like me and approve of me. I wouldn’t want to date someone my friends outright hated. I trust their opinions; I have to trust hers, too.

“You should come with us to the frat party tonight,” I tell Greg when I get out of the shower. He’s still doing his yoga, getting his body limber for the game.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he says.

“I’m sure Sam knows someone who would—”

“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” he says. “I’m bored. I need something to shake it up. No amount of slutty college girls are going to do it for me.”

“So, what, you’re just going to abstain for the next year and a half?”

He’s going into the NFL for sure—he’s a legacy, and more than that, he’s the best player on the team. He’s destined for more.

He considers this. “No. I need a break. A few weeks, maybe a month or two. I just need to get my head on straight.”

“You do you, man. Whatever you need.” I pull my clothes out of the closet. My dress shirt is already wrinkled. Oh well. It’s not like I’m a quarterback or a receiver. Nobody cares about me. ESPN probably won’t even report on me sitting out. In the grand scheme of things, I’m not important. I’m nobody.

And that’s just the way I like it.

We get off the bus at eight-thirty. It’s been a long fucking day, my knees and hips ache, and I didn’t even play today. I’m not in the mood to go to a party tonight. All I want to do is take a shower, put on my sweatpants, and crawl into bed, preferably with Sam beside me.

But I don’t get to have what I want. Not tonight.

“Miles! Honey!”

My parents are waiting outside the practice facility with a bunch of other parents and family members. I thought they weren’t coming today. I thought we were skipping our weekly dinner.

“Hey, Mom.” I let her dote on me, and my dad claps me on the shoulder.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” she says, straightening my scarf.

“You certainly did.”

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