The physical trainer apologized for the thirteenth time as she strapped two gallon sized bags of ice to my shoulder. When I had told her that my arm was killing me she was instantly worried. Something about over using the muscles and making them prone to a major injury was muttered as she guided me to the trainer's room after I had grabbed my clothes from the locker cubby I had left them in.
"Ladies only," she shouted as a knock came from the door. All the blinds had been closed to give us privacy, while also giving the boys' theirs. They were supposed to be getting changed, just like I was.
"Coach wants to talk with us. All of us." My brother's voice, though muffled by the door, was clear as a bell.
"She's about ready," the trainer said. Her eyes instantly began darting around the room. They snapped back to me, wide and frantic, when I jumped off the table and headed for the door. "Lester."
"What? My top half is covered," I gestured to my sports bra, "It'll be fine."
She crossed her arms, silently scolding me as she trailed behind me. The chatter that had been filling the room softened when I entered. I could feel the trainer's disapproving glare boring into the back of my head. The same look my brother was quick to give me. His lecture was cut off as Coach cleared his throat.
"That was one hell of a show you put on out there," Gilly announced with a thumb pointing over his shoulder to the door. "I won't lie. There were a few moments when I thought you were intentionally racking up the flags. Trying to give them an advantage. Something changed in you. The drive you had to make the plays happen. The power you had to stop them short each time. That's what I would call a damn good effort."
His eyes shifted to a section of locker cubbies that hadn't been used. The remaining coaches flanked either side of one cubby in particular. The dark pieces of wood stood eighteen inches tall with the shape of our home state in the center. A piece of glass with the thin lines of a player's silhouette etched into it made it look elegant in a sense. The IHSA emblem was above it, and a placard was on the base. Our name wasn't engraved into it yet. That didn't seem to matter. It was in our locker room. It was surrounded by our team. It had been presented to, and then hoisted into the air by, our team captains.
Lucas, Shane, Joseph, and Finn were grinning and roaring in victory. The crowd and the rest of our team answered back in an obnoxious fashion. Keegan was standing beside me, marveling in the same respectful silence as myself. Any more yelling today I would be left literally speechless.
The last quarter had been more than difficult. We were left with desperate acts and countless adjustments at the line. My brother and his defensive teammates were ruthless as they fought back against the powerful advances. Lucas had managed six sacks by the end of the quarter. The high he was experiencing could be seen from space.
Shane, Corey and I were brainstorming on the bench any chance we could. It hadn't taken them long to figure out our basic plays. We had switched over to the random ones we'd cooked up throughout the season, but those could only buy us so much time. We needed action plays. Something would both throw them off and get us the yards we needed in the moment.
My body is going to get its revenge when I'm finally able to sit still and let the adrenaline work its way out of my system. Every tackle was going to be aching through my bones. Each pass and sprint was going to be throbbing through my muscles. An endless torment for the next few days. Judging by Lucas' stiff back, we were going to be fighting over the ice in the freezer.
"Once you are all changed, meet me out on the field. Northern has allowed us a few additional minutes for photos on the field. We get twenty minutes, then it's back on the bus and to the hotel. The manager has agreed to open the pool for an hour when we get back. With that all said, we will be leaving at eight tomorrow so don't be idiots. I'm dealing with any cranky ass teenagers in the morning. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Coach," we answered. The coaches left the room and it was all that my teammates needed to come back to life.
"You should get changed," Lucas mumbled. I could see the exhaustion beneath the glow of victory lighting his face.
"But then I have to undo all of this," I groaned and gestured to the crisscrossed wrap job holding the ice in place. The trainer looked defeated as she stepped up to me.
"I'll pack some fresh ice when we get back to the hotel."
She started guiding me back into the room and I sighed in defeat. My brother shook his head as he let a chuckle escape. Beyond my brother, Finn was grinning like a fool as he watched to torture continue. He knew what it was like to be reminded and reprimanded by the physical trainers. It seemed to be an endless cycle of the same care regiment each time I asked a question.
~~**~~
After it was okay for me to leave my makeshift changing room, I walked out into the hall to find my team had actually waited for me. Not just my brother or his friends. My entire team. Keegan, Greg, Landon, Ryan and Conner. As if it was an unspoken rule. I guess it was though. You wait for the entire team before you go back out on the field for victory photos.
Finn's arm stretched across my shoulders as he pulled me closer. My arm instinctively went to wrap around his back as my other hand reached up to tangle our fingers together. The soft pressure on my temple made my smile soften. Glancing from the corner of my eye, I could see my brother visibly relax as we reached the glow at the end of the tunnel. The stadium lights shed an entirely new light over the field.
As each of us reached the threshold we had stopped. I stopped in utter amazement at the fact that I had been playing out here only an hour ago. A girl had been playing football on a NCAA regulated field. Looking up at Finn, I could see the green of his eyes darken and I knew he was thinking about the legacy he and his friends would leave behind. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he let go of me.
We watched each other for a few seconds as he strolled out onto the field backwards. Then he heard his name and spun around to find the source. Mrs. James was standing in that proper way of hers next to her niece. Zoey had raced over to her cousin, unable to wait for him to greet them, and started talking.
All around us, our teammates were greeted by our fans. Family and friends all patted each player who passed on the back. Congratulatory words shouted for plays and the overall success of the evening. I felt my brother's presence as he neared me. We were the last two to emerge from the tunnel and into the welcoming mass of spectators.
I was practically speechless as the old timers from Dillion's spoke to me personally about my performance tonight. Little sisters ran over asking me endless questions about playing with a bunch of smelly boys. Not a single game before this had ended like tonight's. The lingering questions about my place in this sport had evaporated. It should have bothered me that it took a championship win to shut down the doubt, but I didn't care.
Lucas' hand fell to the small of my back and he gently pushed me toward the two people I was terrified to see right now. I wasn't high from the win like the others, but I was buzzing from it. I wasn't ready to lose that good feeling. My father had a faded sweatshirt with our school's mascot in the center and my brother's number on the sleeve near the bicep. Mom was wearing my brother's other jersey. They stood showing their support of Lucas. That was an instant buzz killer, and I started fighting against my brother's hand.
"They can wait until tomorrow," I hissed under my breath when he finally stopped and turned to glare at me. "I don't need them ruining tonight, Luke."
"You don't know that they will," he whispered back. The slight unease in his voice made me cross my arms. My teeth dug into my cheek as the pain in my shoulder came roaring back to life.
"You don't know they won't," I growled back. "I'd rather go say hi to Finn's mom and watch as she judges me for looking like a pig."
"One. I've seen you look like a pig, and this isn't it." He waved a hand at me to push the words away. "Two. Mrs. James can get off her high horse. Three. You don't get a choice in your parents, Laine. So suck it up and let whatever happens happen."
There was a two minute staring contest before I let out a huff and stalked over to our parents. My brother had a smug smile on his face as he lazily strolled next to me. My father stuck out his hand to my brother and congratulated him personally on the win. My mother nodded in agreement as she debated her next move.
When her eyes landed on me, I saw a smile stretching across her face as her eyes got glossy. She had given up on the debate in her head as she closed the awkward gap between me and them. Her arms wrapped around me in the tightest embrace I had received from someone. I mean, my brother and his friends aside. The guilt of not hugging her back was nagging me to raise my arms. My brother's voice repeating let what happens happen.
"I am so proud of you, Blaine. You were amazing out there." She rambled on as she pulled away. Her hands squeezed my shoulders as her eyes locked with mine. Either she wanted to keep me from running, which was totally a possibility after that hug, or she was trying to keep herself upright.
"Thanks, Mom," I mumbled through a croak. My eyes sought my father and waited for his approval. If my absentee-mother could admit that what she saw was impressive, then so could he. Right?
"Is it true? You were the mastermind behind those plays tonight," his voice was deep and terrifying. The question itself smoothed the jagged tone.
"I mean they were variations of older plays. Things I had seen on ESPN or NFL throwback reels." I nodded slowly when I had stopped my own rambling.
"Coach Corey spoke very highly of your abilities." He shoved his hands in his pockets as he worked to look me in the eyes again. "He asked for you to be a team manager of sorts if you aren't allowed to play next year. You'd help him work on new offensive plays and work with the team to perfect them."
"Really," I asked. My buzz was officially nonexistent. The disappointment in my voice couldn't have been stopped, and I prayed someone nearby could hear it and save me from the inevitable.
"I told him that I think you would do the whole team a favor if..." He paused. My own blood paused for what? Dramatic effect? Torture? His own twisted joy? "You stayed right where you are next year."
My brother's heavy arm fell to my shoulders as he dragged me toward him. The sideways hug was one sided as I gawked at my parents. I heard the tiny fragment of rules and my father's own personal mandates in order to stay on the team, but it all faded away the instant my brother's beefy arms encircled me completely. He squeezed the breath out of me until I smacked at his chest.
I was back on my feet, but my head was still spinning. From the lack of oxygen. The news I'd just received. The elusive victorious buzz I had lost. So many things were happening and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I wanted to promise my father that every rule would be followed. I wanted to truly embrace my mother of my own doing. I wanted to thank my brother for practically forcing me into the try out. There was only one thing that I wanted more than anything else at that moment.
Copper colored hair. Emerald eyes. A lingering hint of cinnamon.