Sacked (Gridiron #1) (24 page)

“When will it be over?”

“We will never be over.” I don’t raise my voice. I don’t say the words with any force, but there’s nothing I’ve ever said with more conviction. Matty recognizes that.

He blows out a stream of air that turns white in the November chill. “I don't want to fall for any chick then, if that’s what it’s like.”

It's my turn to look astonished. “You'll endure non-stop training and excruciating post game pain. You don’t mind cracked ribs, joint pain, or the bone deep bruises you have to treat with a motherfucking ice bath that’s so cold that your balls try to climb inside your asshole. You’re okay with all of that for one moment of triumph, but you won't suffer a few weeks of heartache to gain a lifetime of real happiness?”

He looks uncertain. “I don't feel that way about anything but football.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “That's because you haven't found the right one.” I shove his beanie over his eyes and walk toward my own class. Behind me I hear Matty’s footsteps.

“You think there is a right one? For me?” His voice sounds halfway between hope and fear.

I grin evilly. “Yeah, and I bet she wrings your balls, Iverson.”

He drops his hand to cover his groin, but his face still shows interest. He’s on board, which means the rest of the guys will fall in line…except for possibly Jack.

I nab him after film on Tuesday.

“Hey, Campbell. Got a minute?”

He pauses in the hallway outside the film room. The other offensive players brush by us. “Sure.” He doesn’t sound enthused.

I get straight to the point. “Your sister’s number is disconnected. I need her new one.”

“No, you don’t.” He turns to leave.

I grab his arm and lower my voice. “Ace told me about your meeting. I don’t want to jeopardize your playing time. I just want to talk to her.”

He jerks out of my grasp. “You think I fucking care about playing football more than I care about my sister’s wellbeing? Fuck you, Masters.”

As he stomps away, I rub a hand through my hair. That didn’t go as I had planned. Jack might be someone I need to address later, after all the pieces are in place.

I stake out the apartment and follow Riley to class on Wednesday morning instead of Ellie. “Riles, Ellie’s phone is disconnected.”

“Are you following me? Because stalking is deemed a violation of the honor code. An honor code violation would mean you can’t play on Saturday, and gosh, wouldn’t that be terrible?” The expression on her face says that me being suspended would make her day.

“I just want to talk to Ellie,” I coax.

“Has your number changed?” she asks.

Confused, I reply, “No.”

“Then if she wants to talk to you, she can call you, can’t she?”

Perhaps Riley doesn’t know about the ban, but before I can clarify things for her, she slips into her class.

What had I said to Matty about not getting down in the face of defeat? Once again my words come back to slap me in the face. On Thursday I go back to Jack who ignores me as much as possible. Given that we play on opposite sides of the ball, watch different film, have different specialty coaches, it’s actually pretty easy for him to pretend I don’t exist.

That is, it would be easy if I wasn’t constantly up in his business.

“What do you want Masters?” he finally relents on Friday when I sit on the porch of his house and refuse to leave. Ace probably made him come out.

“I want you to give me a chance to explain.”

“Fine,” he says curtly. He jerks his chin upright to indicate I should start talking.

“I screwed up, both on the field and off of it. I love her. I want to make this right with her.” Even after I confess this, he remains grim-faced and unforgiving. I don’t need his forgiveness, only his cooperation. I continue, “Ellie’s an adult. She needs to be given the chance to make her own decisions. You know she’d be pissed as hell if she thought you were making them for her.”

Annoyance flickers in his face when I register that hit. “If she wanted to call you, she would.” He repeats the same excuse he gave me earlier that week.

“We both know she isn’t going to do anything that jeopardizes your position or mine. She’s making a sacrifice for all of us, but she doesn’t have to do it alone. Give me a chance,” I plead.

He looks in the direction of Ellie’s apartment and then back at me, weighing my words against her response. “I’ll give you one chance.”

I jump up and pound him on the back. “Thanks, man. You won’t regret it.”

“Don’t fuck it up.”

“Can I do worse than I already have?” I half joke.

This admission tugs a grin from him. “Probably not.”

With Jack on board, Riley follows. We win on Saturday and then the next week and the week after, giving us a record of 10 and 1. Despite creeping up the polls, the wins don’t give me the same high.

I spend the rest of my time skulking around campus, watching Ellie as covertly as possible, between lifting, practice, and games. I stay as careful as possible, because if I get her brother kicked off the team, she’d never forgive me.

Watching her is painful and not the good kind of pain that precedes a wave of endorphins as you break into the next level. It’s a sharp, constant pain as if someone took a cleat and peeled back the skin over my chest. Now the wind keeps whipping past all my exposed nerves.

Every time I see her it’s a reminder of everything I'm missing. Yes I missed fucking her crazy in her tiny bed. Or making out with her in all the stairwells and hollows on campus. I missed the warm feeling of her body next to mine. The little gasps she makes when I slide my dick in just the right spot. I was getting good at it too. But more than that I just miss
her.

I miss the sight of her bent head as she studies. The way she so precisely copies her notes from her notebook into her computer. How when she laughs all of her teeth show. How her eyes light up when we argue over players and teams. I miss her sharp insight into the game.

It’s not easy to watch her without someone noticing me. Even with my winter coat and beanie, there’s always another student who calls out my name and wants to congratulate me on how well the Warriors are doing.

But I can’t stay away from her. If I see her, I think, then she’s still mine. What I told Matty has become the anthem of my life now. Ellie and I will never be done. Our story is a forever one.

I just need to get everyone on that same page with me, including her.

“
B
roomball
, Ellie?” Jack asks with disapproval when he picks me up from the ice rink where I practice with my new intramural squad. It’s mostly the Horny Toad softball team with a few others.

“I played eight weeks of softball and came away with only a skinned knee,” I remind him. He’s still worried I’ll get hurt, but nothing could be more painful than losing Knox. I didn’t realize I’d feel this way, like a hollowed out tube of a person. I’m skin and bones, but underneath it’s one big tumbleweed blowing around an empty wasteland.

He grunts his disagreement, but doesn’t say another word about it. Smart, because I’m not changing my mind.

It’s been three weeks since the loss. Three more games and three more wins. Their record stands now at ten and one, with one regular season game left. As long as they win on Saturday, they’ll play for the conference championship. The Warriors have moved up the charts to number six. Is it bad to hope for the other teams to lose? Maybe, but I cheer for it anyway.

Things worked out okay. Jack is back playing. I’ve barely seen him because he’s spent so much time re-doing the worksheet answers. The professor let him do an oral presentation, but the university is making him take a course over winter break and then during the summer. He’s not thrilled about it.

I got a job waiting tables at Buster’s, and they all love me because I volunteered to work double shifts over Thanksgiving. I have no plans to go home. I’m not even sure I’m welcome at home.

I’m not making much money beyond rent, and I can see that if I want to finish my degree, I will need a second job. But having money of my own makes me feel independent in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

I miss Knox every day. Sometimes I imagine I see him out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn it’s another student. It’s hard to watch the Warriors, but I can’t keep away. Riley refuses to watch with me. She uses her business as an excuse, but I think she’s mad at Knox and Jack.

I don’t blame Knox at all. But Riley said that Knox’s test was stupid, and he either loves me or he doesn’t. I try to tell her it wasn’t only the fact I had intentionally mistaken Ty for Knox, but the things I’d said to him afterward and how I’d almost ruined their season.

She steadfastly disagrees, which makes me love her all the more. She’s wrong, but she’s on my side. I’d found a teammate in the person I’d least expected.

I miss the guys. Even the Horny Toads all looked at me with sad eyes during the last game, when the stands were nearly empty. No more Warriors to cheer us on. A figure stood two fields away. I pretended it was Knox, but we still lost.

A number of players on the softball team play broomball during the winter, so I signed up for the Horny Toads broomball team. Ryan tells me the Horny Toads play worse broomball than softball. Our team doesn’t win a lot, but we have fun playing the game. I need a little fun in my life.

I’m existing. Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning, but at some point, the piercing pain will fade. It’s got to, because I can’t live my entire life feeling like I’m only half a person.

“Why are you wearing your suit, by the way? Is there a team event I don’t know about?” I straighten the collar on his tailored suit.

“Yeah, special team event. How’d your meeting with Financial Aid go? You okay next semester?” He maneuvers the Jeep out of the parking lot and onto the road.

I try to keep my eyes away from Union Stadium, two blocks from the ice rink. Not that Knox is there, but it reminds me of him and that hurts.

“It’s not great news.” I look down at my cheap disposable phone. “I talked to Financial Aid and they said without Mom or Dad co-signing a loan, I probably won’t get enough to cover the full cost of tuition. And since Western is out of state for us and I have to pay the full ride, waiting tables won’t cut it.”

“Can I co-sign for you?”

“No. You have the same sketchy credit situation I have.”

He squeezes the steering wheel tight in frustration. “When I’m out of school, I’ll help you pay for college.”

“Jack, I can take care of myself. I’ve got an associate’s degree. I can get a job somewhere, and I’m three semesters from getting a bachelor’s degree. I can still write. The Agrippa Learning Center plans to submit my grant almost unchanged, and if they get it, I’ll have a great resume builder. I just need you to be my brother.” I reach over and squeeze his hand.

“Do you love Masters? Like forever love him?”

I choke on my saliva. “Where did that come from?”

“I just need to know.”

Well, this is awkward. “What does it matter?”

“It just does,” he insists.

“Fine. Yes, I do.” There’s no point in lying about. I’m not exactly Miss Happy Pants every time Jack sees me. “But it doesn’t matter, because in a few months he’ll be drafted, and he’ll meet some beautiful actress or model, and he’ll forget he ever met me.”

Jack ignores my whiny comments. “No doubts about him. You okay with the way he treated you?”

“What way did he treat me? I had to pretty much assault his brother to get Knox to believe I didn’t want to see him.” I glower at Jack for his unfair accusations.

“The ban by Coach was shitty. Completely unnecessary.” Jack pulls the vehicle into the athletic center parking lot.

“Did you forget something?” I peer out of the tinted windows.

“Sort of. Sit tight.” He climbs out, but instead of running inside, he rounds the front bumper to my side. “Come on.”

“I don’t think I should be here. I’m under a ban, remember?” I look around for signs of Coach Lowe. I’m with Jack, but there could be random Warrior players around. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.

“I know, but we’ll be quick. I promise.”

“I don’t know, Jack.”

But Jack won’t be denied. He reaches in, unbuckles my seat belt, and lifts me out. “Hold your horses! I’m coming,” I grumble and zip up my jacket.

My boots make a crunching noise in the snow as we hurry indoors. We walk down one hallway and then another until we reach the door labeled “Practice Facility.” I jerk out of his grasp. “Jack, I can’t go in there.”

He turns and grips my shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” But now that he asks me, I’m wondering if I should.

“Then come on.”

It’s because of the urgency of his voice that I allow him to pull me inside. I gasp because it isn’t empty. A bunch of his teammates are there, all dressed up in their away suits. Riley is there with a big garbage bag in her hands.

Knox stands with two older people, who look suspiciously like his parents from the photos I’ve seen.

And…a woman wearing a judge’s robe.

“What’s going on?” I must have said that out loud. “Is someone from the team getting married?”

I try to remember who was dating seriously enough to get married, and why I would even get invited to the wedding.

Knox breaks away from his parents and comes over to grip my hands. “You, if you’ll have me.”

“What?” I nearly shout.

“Come on, let’s go out in the hall.” He drags me back to the doorway where Jack and I entered. I feel a million curious stares at my back, and am intensely grateful when the door slams shut.

Under the bright fluorescent lights, I see darkness under his eyes. A slight bruising, as if someone slapped him or he hasn’t slept well. Perhaps he’s partied late. He certainly has good reason to. My throat begins to ache. Why has he come here? It’s tortuous to see him in person. It’s one thing to watch him on the television. There’s something about the pads, helmet, and uniform that provide a distance. I can see him as just Knox Masters, the really great football player, instead of Knox Masters, someone who whispered he loved me and took me to heaven every night we stayed together.

Here, in the flesh, with his beautiful face looking at me intently, all I can remember is that at one time I could lay my hands on his shoulders, crawl into his lap, and tug his head down to kiss him. It’s both painful and glorious to stand this close to him, but not touch him as if he’s mine.

“Ellie, I know about Jack, the ban, all of it.”

My heart stops and then stutters to life again with a roar of adrenaline as his fingers curl around my cheek. The callouses scratch against my skin in that rough, familiar way of his.

“Then why am I here?”

“The ban is for anyone but family members. We get married and the ban is solved. I mean, yes, you can’t go to the games, but you never did anyway. There are only two games left before the playoffs: the last regular season game and then the conference title game. After we win the national championship, I’m announcing my eligibility, and once that’s done I won’t be a student athlete anymore. You can come to my pro games.”

He says they’re going to win likes it’s a foregone conclusion. The rest of his words don’t make any sense, at least not to me. “Wh-what?”

“She doesn’t believe you.” Jack pokes his head out the door. “Our parents have spent her whole life convincing her that she's second class. That she's not valuable because she doesn't wear pads and she doesn't have a penis. She's never had anyone want her that way. She's waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

I gape at Jack. He gives me a sad smile.

Knox takes my shoulders. “The only other shoe I've got has a hell of a lot of love. Some horniness, too. I love you, Eliot, and I want you to be my wife.”

My eyes start to blur, but it looks like he’s unbuttoning his coat and getting down on one knee.

“I feel like I was born knowing I should be a football player. The moment I touched the pigskin, the universe shifted into its rightful place. I felt that very same way when I saw you sitting on the top of Union Stadium all those months ago. It's why you were my first.”

He thumps his hand against his heart. “I love football, but I love you more. None of this—the wins, the glory, the triumphs—will taste as sweet without you. Will you, Eliot Anne Campbell, be my wife?”

He picks up my limp hand and slides a beautiful diamond on my finger. It’s an antique setting with a gorgeous center stone, surrounded by filigree in white gold and diamonds. The whole thing is blindingly beautiful.

I can’t believe this is happening to me. Nothing this good has ever happened in my life. I don’t have any proper response in my head. It’s a whirling, confused muddle. This gorgeous man is proposing to me. He wants to pledge in front of all of his friends and family that he wants me, the most imperfect of beings, as his forever.

I have only one answer I can give him. The only answer he deserves.

My hand goes to my throat as I whisper a shaky, watery, “Yes.”

Knox jumps to his feet. “All right, then. Let’s get you dressed.”

Not the response I thought I’d get. Maybe a kiss? A hug? But instead, Riley rushes through the door, and from the garbage bag she pulls out a beautiful ivory gown—no it’s a skirt. Made with a mountain of tulle.

“What is this?” I cover my mouth. The tears that I’d fought back start to fall. Jack gets flustered, but Riley grins. Knox laughs outright.

“Do you love it?” Riley asks with a tinge of apprehension.

“Of course, I do.” I pull her into my arms and hug her tight. “You are my best friend, aren’t you, Riley?”

“Yup. We’re sisters of the heart.” She gets teary, too.

I hug her, dwarfing her tiny body in my embrace. She rushes me down the hallway into a training room where I shed my jeans for her frothy creation. Her bag produces a tight white cashmere sweater with a scoop neck banded in pearls and tiny cap sleeves.

“The waistband is satin,” she explains, and in the back she ties it into a huge bow.

It looks like a dream. She even produces a veil. Together we fix my makeup. Riley brought everything I’d need, even a pair of white heels.

“How did you do this?” I ask, fingering the white netting.

“It didn’t take that long. And since it’s just a skirt, I could make it somewhat adjustable.” She pulls at the skirt and veil to get it just right.

“What about a marriage certificate?” I fret. “Is this even legal?”

“You’ll sign that in front of the lady with judge’s robes. She’s apparently a real judge that Hammer’s mom knows.” Riley grabs me by the shoulders. “Are you sure about this? Because I’m sure that there are other ways for you to pay for college. And the football season is almost over. Knox and you can be together when it’s over.”

This is why Jack asked me all those questions in the car. He thinks that marrying Knox will get me back into school, but I’d never marry anyone just for that reason.

“I love him, Riles. My heart beats for him, and when he’s not with me, I’m not complete. It’s reckless, but if he wants me, then I’d be a fool not to take this chance with him.”

It’s not even a chance. The way he looks at me with all that love and certainty, it’s about the least risky act I’ll take my entire life.

A hallway door bangs open and we both jump. Riley and I exchange nervous looks. Is that the coach? Someone else who could get us all in trouble? We peer out of the glass in the door and I see my father.

At first, my heart flutters with excitement. He’s here to give me away. But then as he gets closer I realize he’s not wearing a suit, but instead slacks and a sweater. My dad’s a businessman. He knows what to wear to every occasion. Plus, there’s the pissed off look on his face that doesn’t match with a
I’m happy you’re getting married
expression.

I pull open the door and step out. He stops a few feet away from me, his brown shoes nearly brushing the edge of my voluminous skirt.

“Hi, Dad.” I hate that my voice trembles as if I’m a scared little five-year-old.

“I heard about this nonsense from your mother and have come to put a stop to it. I know the full details of your punishment. You are to stay away from the team. If you do not, your brother could suffer severe consequences.”

He grabs my arm to drag me away.

I jerk out of his grasp. “No, you’re wrong. The exact terms—”

He throws up a hand. “I don’t need to hear your bullshit. You’re coming with me.”

The door to the practice facility opens and closes. “Sir, please shut up and sit down, or get the hell out.”