Forever Dark(23)

An hour later, our team is on the field and split by position, each of us working on specific plays and strategies. By the end of the week we’re in scrimmage games and heavy hitting though I’m usually off limits for hitting. Surprisingly, I love the roughness of football. Hard hits don’t bother me one bit.

I trust these guys on my team and we’ve played well together the last three years. Who I don’t trust is Colton, our tackle. He’s sloppy at times. Like today. When he leaves me open for a sack and I’m picking grass out of my face guard.

College football is so much more intense than high school ball. Nothing is the same. Every hit is harder and with every play more is on the line. I don’t like to be sacked. Ever.

Colton laughs throwing out his hand. “You good, bro?”

I hate that word “bro.” It’s fucking cliché.

“Fuck you.” I answer casually picking myself up off the ground. I brush past him and get back into huddle as we call the next play. I feel Landon’s eyes on me but I don’t look at him, especially not after the word “bro” is said to me by Colton. When I look at Landon, it hurts too damn much.

But I do glance his direction and I’m immediately reminded of our last real conversation after I found out he made out with Madison.

“We good, bro?”

“We will never be bros again.” I turn my back on him and he knows that’s all I’m going to say to him.

We break apart from scrimmage and run plays. Sometimes the same one over and over again until we get it right. Landon struggles. He can’t seem to get to the ball or he overruns it. Just like every other practice. It pisses me off when I watch him. He’s by far our best wide receiver, even better than Taylor Quinn, the senior he beats out for the starting position each week.

But he never gives one hundred percent and it irritates me. It’s like saying the team that’s supposed to be tight and trust one another yet he can’t even give us the gratification of knowing he gave his best. A total slap in our faces. The other players see it too. He’s holding back for a reason and I’m sure that reason started a few years ago when he was hanging out of that sunroof. He feels responsible, plain and simple. But who am I to talk, hell, we all feel responsible in our own way. I could have forced them both to get down or made Steven pull over until they got back in the fucking car. That old saying about hindsight being twenty-twenty is spot on because all I can think when I look at Landon is “coulda, shoulda, woulda.”





It’s late when I get back to my dorm room, probably around nine or ten. I’m not feeling like much of anything, nor do I want to study. I have to though.

During the week, we don’t usually party. At all. We’re too busy with practice and school. Although tonight, as I’m studying, Saylor has some kind of open house going on. Our dorm room is open, as is the door leading into the bathroom that connects our room with Holden and Sean’s, two sophomore running backs who play with us. For over an hour it’s an endless flow of girls moving in and out. Some make their way to my side of the dorm where I’m studying, others don’t and stay beside Saylor or even Jet.

Sometimes I want my own room but we room together because of the unity. It’s important in football.

I’m reading the same passage over and over again only the giggling is louder. When I turn my head, Saylor has a girl on his lap, his chocolate skin standing out against the fair hair skinned red head straddling him.

I look away.

Like I said, Saylor gets pussy. There have been a few who show up when he’s not here and try to test their luck with me. I’m not really into the whole hook up with whoever thing. It’s not that I wouldn’t mind the occasional one night stand but it’s not my thing. My one nights start with an early morning text.

I came here to play college football and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not here to fuck around but, yeah, I see temptation to do that. I can if I want. It’s all around me. It’s easy. I don’t even have to try. I can go to a party and before I know it, three or four who will meet me at the door. Ready and willing.

I mess around but I never take it any further. I try. Goddamn do I try but deep down, I don’t want to. I want one girl.

It hurts that she doesn’t want me in the same way.

It hurts like a son of a bitch.

It just… fucking hurts.

Amber makes her way over to me. She’s a cheerleader and tries every day to get my dick between her legs. She’s almost succeeded a time or two.

Her hand’s on my chest over my heart. “Hey, I can distract you, if you’d like.”