Fiction/Young Adult
What Does Sex Have To Do With It
Chapter Three
After the first week of practice, dad let me drive myself to the school. He arrived about two hours earlier for our first full four-hour day of intense no-holds-barred training.
The new pickup truck was parked in the ‘Head Coach’ designated spot when I arrived at the stadium. There weren’t too many other cars here. I guess everyone else showed up at the last possible moment before they were deemed ‘late’ and sent off on a mile run around the track.
Three boys got out of a car parked by the sidewalk. The middle-aged female driver passed by me as I walked from my car. She had a strange expression on her face. It was like she’d never seen a girl carrying football pads and a helmet before. Come to think of it, she probably hadn’t.
The boys looked back as I came up behind them on the sidewalk. They looked younger, maybe sophomores. This was probably their first year playing varsity. Two of them looked me up and down, then picked up their pace, presumably so no one would think that we were all walking together.
The third player’s pace seemed too slow so I was walking almost next to him. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye, like he wanted to say something but maybe too afraid.
He had short blond hair styled in a crew-cut-like manner, and by his build and weight, he was definitely going to be on either the defense or offensive lines.
Finally, after the thirty-second walk of quietness, he broke the vow of silence that every guy on the team seemed to have taken to me. “Are you really trying out for running back?”
A smile forced its way out. Someone had finally caved and spoke to me. “Yeah, I’ve been playing ball since I was a kid.”
The boy nodded but still seemed confused on the aspect of me attempting to take the place of one of their well-known starters. “But this isn’t like flag football or whatever type of game you played on the girls’ team.”
I tightened the urge to spit out something about him not knowing shit about what I did before. He was the first person to talk to me, and I didn’t want to ruin an ally; he may be the only one I had so far. “I’ve played tackle and on boys teams since I was six. I was first-string since my freshman year.”
I would’ve told him I made an all-state conference, but I didn’t want to sound like a bragging bi-otch in our first conversation.
His face scrunched up like he was questioning what I told him. “I really don’t follow every high school’s football, just mainly our conference and college right now.”
“Yeah, usually that’s what everyone does.” that’s everyone’s mistake. Most don’t put two cents of thought into all the other players nationwide running stats up and vying for the same college position or NFL scout attention. They only follow what they know.
My goal wasn’t to go pro, maybe college ball, but after this year I wanted and needed a break from all the headaches playing multiple sports, football, track, softball, and soccer.
I made him feel at ease that he wasn’t knowledgeable in the whole high school football arena. Then, I looked behind us and noticed more players starting to show up. I saw a few motion in my direction and knew I would be the topic of conversation for a while.
The boy looked back and shook his head when he saw our teammates. “Yeah, don’t worry about them.” Then, he turned his attention my way. “None of us ever had a girl on the team, so they don’t know what to think.”
“That’s if I make it.” I still had my doubt, especially with the two other running backs and how almost everyone who started the previous years played together since they were all in middle school.
The guy chuckled. “Your dad is the head coach, of course you’ll make it.” Then he shrugged. “I don’t know about first string, but you’ll make it.”
“Thanks. Guess we’ll see after all our practices.”
We finally made it to the team meeting room, and he held the door open for me. “I’m Lee.” He motioned for me to go on through.
I finally had a name for the first friendly face on the team. “I’m Sam.” I gave him a warm smile and walked in.
“Yeah, I think everyone knows who you are by now.”
Dad looked up from his playbook when the door banged shut behind us. I got a brief nod, and then he went back to scribbling in his book.
More players started to come in, so I quickly claimed a seat before they were all taken. Surprisingly, Lee sat down beside me.
The other players looked at him strangely, but he just kept a straight face and pretended not to notice the attention given our way.
After listening to a thirty-minute lecture, we finally made our way out to the field. We were told to line up and do a set of suicides, meaning we had to start at the goal line, run up to the five-yard line, then back to the goal. We had to do that for every five-yard marker on the field. It was a grueling exercise, but it showed stamina, speed, and who got what it took to make it to the first string.
I lined up beside Lee and got ready to go when the whistle was blown.
Dad held up his hand and counted down with each finger.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
He blew the whistle, and we all took off. The team ran together. Everyone kept on pace until we were on our way back from the thirty-yard line. I noticed the larger boys, including Lee, had slowed down. If they were fortunate, they would be able to finish.
I turned back around and began running backward. “Come on, Lee, you can do this.” Maybe with encouragement, he would get the second push he needed.
Lee’s face lit up like he was surprised I would think about all the others in this crucial time test. He waved me on. “Go ahead, Sam, you got this.”
I smiled and turned back around to see how far behind I was from the others. About ten guys were ahead of me, including Devon, DeAngelo, and Skyler.
I stepped the pace up and passed up seven of the guys in a couple of yards. Then, I spun around on the thirty-five and headed back to the goal line. I was only a yard or two behind the three starters, two of whom I had to beat.
I glanced at the coaches and saw Coach Jake was so happy that his boys were beating me.
Um, hell no, this ain’t gonna happen.
One deep breath and a hard push off the ground, and I was neck-and-neck with the three leaders.
The boys looked shocked I was running along the side of them. Devon and DeAngelo forced out a quick sprint and went ahead by three yards. Skyler kept his pace. It wasn’t like anyone was competing to take his starting position. His breathing seemed even, his eyes were focused, and he looked comfortable with this type of exertion.
Okay, I needed to stop watching Skyler and get ahead of the other two.
I HAD to beat them.
I left Skyler behind and caught up with the two running backs before they turned around at the other end’s forty-yard line. We all scrambled past the other players who were just making it to the first forty-yard line and center field, then raced to the goal line.
All three of us kept the pace together. However, I could tell that DeAngelo was running out of steam. He stumbled a few times then caught back up to us.
Devon was a demon. He never looked over at me even though I ran right next to him. He had a purpose. NOT to let me win.
The two of us made it to the goal line. We turned and had only one hundred yards to go until this act of brutality was over. I was sweating, my chest hurt, and my legs were starting to ache, but this was what drove me.
I lived for this feeling and moment.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Skyler was about ten yards behind us, and DeAngelo was five behind him. My pause in concentration allowed Devon to take the lead by three yards.
Shit!
Shit!
Shit!
I couldn’t let him win.
The closer we got to the goal line, I saw my dad’s eyes were fixated on me. It was like he was willing me to beat this guy. I had to prove to everyone that I could do it. I could become a Falcon.
Ten yards to go.
I felt the burst of energy I needed. I ran as fast now as I did in games when a six-foot cornerback was chasing me down.
Five-yard line, Devon and I were tied step for step.
I clenched my fists, held my breath, and gave it all I had.
It was close… like really, really close.
BUT, I beat Devon by a step.
My foot crossed over the line first.
I knew everyone else saw it too. I saw it in Coach Jake’s eyes, the anger of me winning. I saw a small smirk form on dad’s face, one that showed he was proud and slightly tickled that I beat two of the best running backs in the conference.
I kept the motion going and ran over to the ice-cold water bottles. I chugged half of one down and splashed some on my face.
A body went past me, making sure to bump me on the way. Guess that was Devon’s way of saying ‘Game on’ for the rest of the season.
DeAngelo came in third looking pissed and worn all at the same time. At the same time, Skyler did an easy jog to claim fourth place.
The rest of the team followed behind at various intervals, wide receivers, cornerbacks, safety, and the linesmen followed slowly behind everyone else.
Lee was one of the last to cross the line. I gave him a thumbs up once we made eye contact. He looked like he just ran a marathon, which doing suicides in football is pretty comparable.
Lee dragged his body over to mine and collapsed on the ground beside me. “I don’t think I will move ever again.” He closed his eyes and tried to regain control of his breathing.
I dug a bottle out of the cooler and let the water droplets drip onto his face. “You’ll be okay in a few. We still have a whole practice to go through.”
Lee let out a groan and held his hand up for the bottle.
“I suggest sitting up before you drink.”
Lee moaned a few more times but managed to roll over onto his side and force himself to sit upright.
Once he was settled, I gave him the water, which he readily accepted and chugged. “You fuckin kicked his ass.” Lee’s smile beamed ear-to-ear.
“I had to.” I jogged in place and got ready for the rest of the practice.” It’s the only way to show I’m good enough.”
“Both of them needed to be knocked down a peg or two.” Lee sneered at Devon and DeAngelo as they stretched out at the opposite end of the bench. “They’re pricks to everyone.”
“Always a few of them on every team.” I knew from past experiences there were always players that thought they ruled the team and school. And by the looks of it, my competition for a starting position happened to be the ones for this high school.
“Most of the other guys won’t like you… you know, because you’re a girl in a guy sport. But I do. You’re okay, Sam.” Lee managed to get to his feet and did a few slow high knees to stretch himself out.
“What about the QB? Skyler, right?”
Lee’s eyes popped open even more. “Do we have an interest already?” He glanced over to the other end of the bench where some of the guys were gathering, then back to me. “He’s been with Kortni, K not a C and I not a Y, for about a year.”
“Well, just the way that you said her name, I can probably guess head cheerleader who everyone worships. She’s probably really pretty and a total bitch.”
Lee looked surprised with my answer. “Point on, Sam, I’m impressed.”
“And totally not interested. I just wanted the name of the one who will be handing me the ball all season long.”
Dad’s whistle grabbed everyone’s attention. He and the other coaches were standing in the middle of the field, ready for the actual practice to begin.
“Ready.” I motioned for Lee to follow as I jogged over to where everyone else was congregating.
I stood beside the rest of the team as we all lined up, but several of the guys around me took two steps away from where I was standing. Lee and another guy, one that he’d been talking with earlier, stood in the spaces that the other guys vacated.
“Nice run before.” Lee’s friend, another rather large, pudgy-faced linesman, complimented me on my suicide drill.
“Thanks. I’ve been doing those all my life.”
“I’m Tye. I’ll be blocking for you this season.”
Dad’s whistle blew before I could comment back. But it was cool to see someone else had confidence in me making the team and possibly beating out Devon or DeAngelo.
That was the extent of the following week of practice. The coaches had to see who had the stamina to make it through a grueling three-hour game. We did exercises and mock plays, testing to see who could make it or gave up. We did lots and lots of running, which I was good at doing.
So far, it was all good. Out of the sixty-plus players we started with last week, we only lost three to lack interest in giving it their all.
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