Football and Fairy Tales

Chapter 4

Devin

The look on her face was classic, the face of an innocent, and it had my blood pumping like crazy. She's something new, which says a lot about this town. Rarely is there a new face that pops up. Everyone knows everyone. It's the same routine every single day. Where is she from? It was hard to tell by her accent, and there was no way to know by the way she was dressed. California maybe? Doesn't matter, she met me match for match which earned her immediate points.

"What was that, Gibson? My mother can throw better than that!"

Coach's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I realize I just threw that throw while my mind was in the slammer. Fuck. Shaking my head, I watch my teammates staring at me. They do not need me to lose my shit this close to the end of the season. Especially since this is my senior year, and I'm looking for a full ride. There is no way I can afford a college education on my pay. We are one game away from the playoffs. We win this one, and we're in. Coach signals me in, and I take my helmet off on the way to the sideline. He looks pissed, and this is only a practice.

"What was that out there?"

"Sorry, Coach, won't happen again."

Lame, but I won't admit that it's a girl that caused me to fuck up that last play. I don't need that kind of distraction right now.

"Everything okay at home?"

Of course, that would be the first thing on his mind. He knows how shitty my home life can be. I don't talk about it, but he was friends with my dad, so he's made it a point to keep an eye on me over the years whether I want it or not. Not giving me any special treatment is why I love him. He's fair, in fact, probably more so because he works my ass off more than he does the other guys. He's pushing me, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay him for what he's done for me. Except I do. I need to get my head back in the game.

____________________________________

By the time Coach releases us from practice, I'm back in focus and ready for our last game before the playoffs. And we will make it to the playoffs. Opening my locker, I quickly throw my gear inside before stripping off my sweat-filled jersey.

"Dude, did you see the new girl today," Rick Stensen sits on the bench between the lockers and takes a large swig of water.

"That smokin' hot chick with the dark hair?" Evan Abernathy throws open the locker next to him and throws his stuff inside.

"Yeah, I heard she's a gypsy."

Once stripped down to my boxers, I grab a towel and a bar of soap before turning around.

"Gypsy? Is this another joke from Daffodil?"

Both guys look confused at my question, and I remember they don't share the same class we do.

"It's just that Ren was giving her a hard time about being in the circus due to how she dressed."

Rick scrunches his nose in disgust. "Classic Ren move." He shrugs. "I don't know about that, but I do know her parents are the hippie type that loves to travel, so they packed up their shit and their daughter and hit the road. Rumor has it she's been to more schools than Ren's been laid."

"If that's true, I'm impressed," I mutter while making my way to the shower. It's hard to compete with the number of guys Ren's laid. I grimace when the hot water shoots out and hits my sore shoulder courtesy of a hit earlier. That's not the only reason I grimace. On one of those rare occasions when I'd been talked into a party and night of drinking, I had my turn with the buxom blonde. She was as wild as they said she would be, but scary too. The girl attacked with her claws out, and it pains me to remember it. She's read too many of her momma's romance novels and not the good kind. Dakota, on the other hand, makes my mouth water. When I notice how I'm reacting to that thought, I commit myself to doing play moves in my head to fight off my problem. Man, what I wouldn't do to –

"Word is you're about to be recruited to Alabama." In the stall next to me, Evan continues like we haven't stripped down to wash off. All sensual thoughts of Dakota fly out the window, and I turn off the water and grab my towel before they return.

"God, I hope that's one rumor that's true."

"We're all pulling for you, man," Rick adds while grabbing his towel.

No one speaks about it, but they all know where my sister gets all her money. When she's not whoring around town, she's pumping me for every last dime she can. My thoughts for the last few years have been centered on getting out of this town, but guilt always brings me back to the present. Shelly didn't ask to be shackled with a brother when her own life was taking off. The guilt makes me tell myself that. But I know whether my parents were alive or not, she'd still land on a similar path. Mom and Dad had a hard time keeping her self-destructive behavior under control. She started sneaking out at thirteen and came home smelling like cheap alcohol and men's cologne. I'm pretty sure that's when the sex started. It wasn't the usual teenage addictions to phones, social media, and gossip. It wasn't the worst kind of addiction to street drugs, either. No, it was her body. She's obsessed with sex and the high it gives her.

"Thanks," I mutter.

I hate sympathy, but I know these guys mean it in a sincere way and not because they feel sorry for me. Looking at my watch, I notice I have enough time to stop and grab a bite before I start my shift at Frank's Tavern. Due to my slip-up at practice, I'll have to help Mr. Edwards tomorrow. The coach made me stay later to make up for the bad play. Understandable. He needs to make sure my head is in the right place. Rick and Evan sacrificed their time to stay at practice with me. No worries. Mr. Edwards, or Ed as we affectionately call him, is the only mechanic in town. This means he always has work I can get my hands on.

I dry off quickly and change into jeans and a long-sleeved Henley. Announcing a quick goodbye to my teammates, I hurry to my car. Stopping by Noah's Diner on the drive, I quickly scarf down the burger that the place is infamous for before turning in at the run-down but well-kept bar. Frank's funds have been low for the last few years. The only thing keeping him afloat is the fact that it's the only bar in town where you can grab a good beer and catch the game. Football is like liquid gold in this town. As long as he can afford to keep his televisions in working order, he'll make it through the small recession he's in. I yell to the back when I clock in and go to the bar to relieve Mia, Frank's other bartender, for the night. She greets me before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. She has a kid to pick up and a mouth to feed—no time for conversation amongst the lower working class. One day, I will make it big and surprise that woman with something to relieve the tension in her shoulders. Everyone knows her lowlife excuse for a boyfriend knocked her up and left her high and dry. Instead of terminating her pregnancy, she decided to keep the baby despite her family disowning her over it all.

The bar looks empty, a fact I'm grateful for. My shift doesn't end until midnight, and I have a test to study for. The following two hours go by in a mindless blur until I see the new girl sitting in a dark corner with a pile of books surrounding her. The Christmas lights decorating the ceiling illuminate her dark black hair. Dakota. Her name fits her. I must have missed her coming in when I went back to restock some supplies at the bar. Her nose is scrunched up in concentration, and she is unaware of the guy ogling her from across the room. Not that I can blame him since I'm doing the same damn thing, but the thought of any unsavory characters messing with her touches me in a way I don't like. Why the hell should I care? My main aim is to get out of this town, not get involved in any relationship. It's reaching nine o'clock, which means I need to get her out of here before the drunks in the town start to get rowdy. There's little crime in Dewbridge, but that's mainly because people in these parts are smart. This girl hasn't gotten the memo.