Surviving Regret (17 page)

In the third quarter we’re scoreless while the Wildcats come up with yet again another touchdown.

The fourth quarter, Cash gets the chance to look around the field and finds me out by the sidelines for a twenty-two-yard pass into the end zone. But the Wildcats follow that right up with another touchdown.

We lost that game forty-two to sixteen.

The plane ride back to Eugene was long. No one talked. No one looked at each other. Everyone was dreading the team meeting with the coach because we were going to get our asses handed to us after he chews them up and spits them back out.

November 26, 2013

Colton and Cash are going at it yet again in the locker room. You would think that Colton would shut the fuck up and mind his own business but he doesn’t. He’s a fucking idiot sometimes. I think he was hit in the head with the ball one too many times.

Cash’s pads are flying off and getting slammed into his locker. It takes a lot to piss Cash off but lately just a look in his direction and he’s ready for a fight.

Cash goes and takes a quick shower while I’m still in the locker room taking my time because I’ve got nowhere to be. He dresses and pulls his hat down low over his eyes. I glance back at him and our eyes meet. His are cold and angry. Something in my gut tells me he’s going to see Jay. I’ve got to warn him not to but then another part of me just wants to stay the hell out of it.

He takes a few steps in my direction and I jump up off the bench holding my hands up. “He’s dangerous.”

Cash gives me a menacing look. “Don’t you have to go get high or something?”

He brushes past me hitting my shoulder. “Fuck!” I yell then punch my locker. I drop to the bench staring down at the floor. I at least tried to warn him. I knew it would fall on deaf ears but I couldn’t live with myself if I said nothing at all.

November 28, 2013

Campus is mostly deserted since it’s Thanksgiving. Everyone has gone home to visit family but not me. My mom and dad are pissed but what can they do about it. They offered to come to Eugene and take me to dinner but I made up some lame excuse that I was keeping my head in my books all day to catch up on some school work I was behind on. Mom started crying and passed the phone off to Dad. He told me not to worry about her and that he was proud of me for being responsible. That made me feel shitty because the last thing I was worried about was studying.

Macy left to go home for a few days saying she just needed a break from everything. I think she wanted to put some distance between us and I couldn’t blame her. She never even asked if I was going back home either.

I’m lying on my bed in my cold cinderblock room throwing the football up in the air then catching it. I feel like I’m trapped in this room but yet I can’t seem to make myself leave either. I’ve got the whole day to do whatever the hell I want since we have no practice and no game today.

Tomorrow is the Civil War game. This matchup is going to be intense and everyone needs to be on their game, especially Cash. Oregon State is a huge rival of ours and the game is at home so we have that going for us. I haven’t smoked in days and it’s starting to wear on my nerves, I feel like I’ve been off my game until I’m on the field. That’s the only time I feel a sense of calm come over me since I haven’t been getting high.

My phone starts buzzing beside me. I pick it up and see that it’s Madison.

“Yo.”

“Come over?” She sounds sad.

“Give me a few.” I hang up not waiting for her response. I’m not surprised she didn’t go home. Madison probably talked to her mom and found out Macy was going back and decided she would just stay here.

I toss the ball on my bed; grab my truck keys and wallet and head to the only diner in town that’s open.

After ordering two turkey sandwiches I head over to Madison’s place. It’s not Thanksgiving dinner but it’s close enough and I really don’t think she’ll care. I know I don’t.

Of course when I arrive at Madison’s she’s smoking from a bong and her room is filled with smoke. She’s really taking this final split with Cash hard. I think she finally realizes that she’s pushed him too far this time. He knows everything now, the drugs, the alcohol and the cheating. A little part of me thinks Cash knew but he wasn’t willing to admit it. He can’t hide from it now that other people know.

“What did you expect him to do?” I ask, taking the bong from Madison.

“I don’t know?” she says looking away. “He’s never actually been this pissed off before.”

I don’t know what she wants me to say so I say nothing. She had to know that this would all come to a head and blow up.

Madison is lying back on her bed staring up at her ceiling for a while. Every once in a while she’d look in my direction to make sure I was still here.

I do what I can for her, make her laugh, and comfort her just by being there. Every time I’ve needed her, she’s been there. It’s the least I can do to return the favor.

For a moment, I hesitate when I look at the bong she has out.

Only for a moment.

And then I cave inhaling as much as I can until nothing matters. It relaxes the both of us. We eat the sandwiches I bought and then I fall asleep on her bed. I wake around one from Madison tossing and turning so much and go back to my room.

As I open the door to my dorm room, I see Colton sound asleep and realize that should be me. But now, I spent the night getting high knowing damn well we have a game tomorrow and I’m going to be tested.

I fucked up. I fucked up big time.

That’s me, Landon “the fuck up” Hayes.

November 29, 2013

Eugene, Oregon

Civil War Game

I barely slept when I got home from Madison’s last night. I knew the second I saw Colton asleep that I should have been here hours ago with him. My head wasn’t on right though and I fucked up.

When I get to the locker room I change into my uniform. I finish off a bottle of Gatorade and I walk over to toss it in the trash but I stop in my tracks. Cash has red welts covering his face, his lips are swollen and cracked, and his eye is swollen too with a deep purple mark lining the creases. I want to ask him if he feels better after getting his ass kicked but I don’t. I really want to say I fucking told you so but he could say the same for me and all the fucked up shit I’ve done. Instead I just walk away. I know what battles to pick and which ones to stay away from.

We’re all suited up and standing in the tunnel ready to run out onto the field in front of sixty-thousand screaming fans, people from all over who have come to watch the Beavers battle it out with us.

The first half of the game is tied. Cash finds me open and we score two touchdowns and a field goal in the first two quarters but the Beavers scored the same in just the second quarter.

The third quarter Cash calls the play but I get held up and have to haul ass to get down the field where I should be standing when I see Cash’s arm go behind his head. I make it just in time and make the catch scoring a touchdown. The guys pat me on my back when I get off to the sidelines. Glancing at Cash he gives me a nod, congratulating me for making that catch. The Beavers are only able to score a field goal. By the end of the quarter we’re leading.

The fourth quarter we’re off to a bad start. The Beavers are up a field goal and a touchdown. Cash is able to find me and we score leaving the score twenty-four to thirty. We’re in the lead. It’s one tough ass game as we all expected it would be. With less than two minutes on the clock the Beavers score again. The game is tied. The clock is winding down. Plays are being yelled without a huddle. Cash gets us as close to the end zone with handing the ball off but we’re out of time; he has to throw the ball. He looks to me and I know that look. He’s relying on me to score, to win this game for us. I nod and he makes the call for the play. Saylor hikes the ball to Cash, he makes the snap and I’m right where I should be but the throw is off and I make the split second turn and catch the ball for a twelve-yard touchdown.

We win thirty-six to thirty-five.

The fans and team rush the field. Colton runs to me and I jump mid-air and he catches me. Saylor slaps my ass as the rest of the guy’s congratulate me. I’ve played one of my best games. I don’t feel like I should be living in the victory because I know when I get back to that locker room and take the piss test my season is over. This was the least that I could do for them. I give myself a few minutes to live in the moment because it’s about to be all over.

After the interviews I head back to the locker room. Cash is already there standing at his locker. I glance over to him. “Good game. Best throw you made all year.”

He doesn’t respond. I didn’t really expect him to.

“Hayes? You’re up.” A rep from the NCAA says looking at me.

They test all of us after the last game and after a bowl game too. I knew that heading into the game but last night I didn’t care. I needed that escape.

“I’m sure Steven would have loved to see this shit,” Cash mumbles.

I glare at him. “Don’t you fucking say his name around me.”

“Why? Does it hurt to know you were responsible?”

“Fuck you, Cash.” I brush past him on the way to the bathroom.

“Landon Hayes?” The man holding a clipboard asks.

I nod but don’t say anything. He hands me a piece of paper that says I’m being tested with my name and date. I sign it, hand it back.

He follows me back to the bathrooms, makes me wash my hands with water only and then tells me to drop my pants down to my ankles.

“Lift your shirt up to your arm pits.”

There’s no modesty allowed here. They see it all.

“Now turn around and do a three-sixty.”

I do as he says. This isn’t my first drug test so I know what the drill is here. He watches me piss in the cup and then takes it and calls the next player back.

I know I’m not passing. I smoked pot yesterday.

Coach sees me walk out and he knows too. I feel the disappointment rolling from him.

When I come back into the locker room with the guys, Colton and Cash are shoving each other. I know where this is going so I stand in between them but I can’t help myself and start laughing. Probably because I should be laughing at myself right now.

Or that I just find it funny that Cash just punched Colton.

“It’s not even about you just being an all-around dick anymore,” Cash says to me knocking my hands away. “It’s about you having a
fucking
drug problem.” And then he shoves me backwards into Coach Lander. “You not only let me down, you let Steven down. You let the whole fucking team down, you piece of shit!”

I don’t say anything because he’s absolutely right.

And then I’m fucking pissed. I’m pissed because I’m being called on my own shit in front of everyone all because he thought I was laughing at him.

“You sure you want to do this right now, Landon?” Coaches and players start trying to separate Cash and I when they see where this is going. “You sure you want to have this conversation, here, right now?”

Fucking right I want to.

“Yes,” I say laughing. I’m glad someone’s finally calling me on my shit but it doesn’t stop my own anger either.

He shoves me first and I have to catch myself against the locker. With a dark gaze, I look up and am met with an even darker one. I’ve never in my life seen Cash this angry. And never with me.

My hands start shaking as I feel the adrenaline jolt through me. “You ready for me to break that million-dollar arm?”

He fucking laughs at me right then. “I’d like to see you try, asshole.”

“How long have you been fucking Macy?” I ask, curious how long the two of them have been going behind my back. Probably years.

“Don’t say shit like that unless you want an honest answer.”

“You warning me?”

“I guess I am.” He smiles back at me, a glowering look that makes me want to wipe it off his fucking face. “Don’t ask unless you want the truth.”

He shoves me back again. It’s like a goddamn shoving match. “How long have you been fucking, Madison?”

I don’t answer him. Instead I punch him.

“I hope your nose is crooked, you bastard!”

“Yeah,” I spit blood on the floor. “Your face isn’t so pretty now either, asshole.”

He smiles with blood running down the side of his face. “Still pretty enough for
Sports Illustrated.
”

December 2, 2013

I get the phone call I knew was coming all along. Coach wants me to come to his office. He’s pissed. I can hear it in his voice. Leave it to me to fuck up once again. I can’t even manage to stay sober knowing that a drug test was coming.

I knock on Coach’s door and wait before entering.

“Come in, Landon.”

I take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. He picks up a stack of papers, “Do you know what this is?”

I nod, “The results of the drug tests.”

He stands and paces back and forth after throwing the papers back on his desk. “Do you know what you’re outcome was?”

I know and I’m not going to lie about it. “Yeah.”

“Landon,” he starts off saying. He’s breathing hard trying to keep calm. “Son, you knew this test was coming up. You know this team needs you, you’re an important part of it.” He’s laying the guilt on thick. “You couldn’t stay clean, could you?”

I don’t answer because I have nothing to say. Life is a bitch and I’m at her mercy.

Coach puts his hands on his hips. “I went to bat for you, Landon.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “But it didn’t matter.” He sighs loudly. “They’re pulling your scholarship, you’re out of the Bowl game and you must take drug and alcohol classes before you can even think about playing ball next year.”

Every single word he just uttered is like a bullet to the chest. He just ripped my fucking chest wide open. I have nothing left. I’ve lost everything I care about, football, Macy, Cash, Alexa, and Steven. I deserved it but it still fucking hurts. I can’t blame anyone but myself.