Adam Watson
I let out a long breath, trying to blow my sweat-soaked hair out of my face.
I wasn't very successful.
Coach's whistle blew again, and I forced myself to take off into a sprint, my legs aching in protest.
This was the last one, and I had to make good of it.
My jello filled legs carried me across the football field, the Sun beating down on me as sweat poured down my face and my back.
Last one.
My foot crossed the end zone, and I slowed to a stop, letting my hands slide down onto my sweat-soaked knees.
Done.
I picked my head up, watching as the rest of the team slowly trickled in on the last sprint, Coach yelling the times out at the top of his lungs.
I didn't even hear my own time. I was just glad to cross the damn end zone without collapsing first.
Friday mornings were absolute torture. Early morning weight room workouts followed by conditioning out on the field.
Sometimes we ended with stadiums, sometimes with gassers. Today it was fields, sprinting the entire length of the football field 10 times over.
If you didn't puke by the end it was a miracle.
I felt hands being slapped on my back, but I just let my head drop back down, my chest heaving.
It was finally over. I could climb back into my bed and sleep the rest of the day away, the only perk about Fridays. I didn't have class, so after the morning torture session I went back to my dorm and passed out for the rest of the morning. There was no better feeling than your bed after a hard workout.
"That's it for today boys," Coach Dobson said, clamping down on my shoulder.
I glanced up at him, waiting for him to continue. I was used to being the center of attention during and post-practice after being named the starting Quarterback. Sometimes Coach's speech had nothing to do with me, he just stood by me while completing it. Other times he'd compare the team to my performance, or ask the team to comment on my improvements and what I needed to work on.
There was no telling what he had to say today.
"All except for Adam here."
What?
The rest of the team glanced over at me, mixed looks of confusion, sympathy and laughter.
I forced myself to stand up straight, placing my hands on my hips. If I was going to be the center of attention, I was going to do it with some form of dignity.
"Who can tell Adam here the punishment for disobeying Coach?"
I glanced around the winces of my teammates, the shaking heads.
I don't think I wanted to know the answer.
"Keller?" Coach Dobson called out, earning a laugh from about half the team.
Another backstory that I don't know. Downside of being a Freshman, the team has inside stories and jokes that you're not a part of.
"16 fields Coach," Keller said, offering me a sympathetic smile.
"And how many have we done?" Coach Dobson asked me, his eyes staring directly into mine.
"10," I muttered, feeling the bile in the back of my throat.
"The rest of you boys are dismissed to the locker room," Coach Dobson said, before slapping me on the back. "Adam, on the line."
If I didn't die before the end of this, it would be a miracle.
I heard a bunch of "good luck" wishes as my teammates left, a few of them laughing.
Fuck them.
Coach blew the whistle, and I took off in a sprint.
I managed two more before the bile made it's way up my throat, and I emptied my insides out on the side of the field.
"Grab some water and line back up!" Coach Dobson called out. "You owe me four more."
~*~
I paused in front of my dorm room door, my smoothie in hand.
There was a bandana tied to the doorknob.
I had the urge to scream every obscenity that came to mind at the top of my lungs, but instead just slammed my hand against the wall outside, turning back around.
I'd left for 20 minutes tops to go and get a wheatgrass shot and a Kale protein smoothie from downstairs. My entire body was sore after the torture session I'd endured Friday, and I was trying to build myself back up before practice tomorrow.
I walked next door, knocking on Toby and Laurence's door.
"Please be Toby, please be Toby, please be-" I chanted below my breath, as the door clicked open.
To reveal Laurence.
The universe just isn't on my side today.
"What?" Laurence asked, with a look of disdain.
"Terrence is busy, I need to hang in your room."
Laurence let out a long sigh of annoyance, pushing his dorm room door open and letting me inside.
"Does he get hornier on the weekends?" Toby asked me, from his position on his bed. He had his laptop in his lap, schoolwork spread out around him.
"We haven't even started classes yet," I pointed out.
"I have to have the first three chapters outlined by Monday, fucking Chemistry."
I chuckled, taking a seat in Toby's desk chair.
"And to answer your question, yes. Terrence is always horny, but on the weekends it's worse."
"I give that man props, he must put in work during the week in order to find that many girls willing to sleep with his ugly ass."
Maybe if Terrence was straight. But on the contrary, guys seem to gravitate towards Terrence, leaving him with more than enough options to keep his weekends busy.
Excuse me while I gag myself.
I let my head dip backwards, letting out a long sigh. All of my stuff was in my room, leaving me with just my phone. And all of my social media was controlled by the Vanderbilt football association leaving me with a few games to keep myself entertained.
I opened up Angry Birds, trying to keep myself entertained while Toby worked on his Chemistry.
I had three stars on every level, but it didn't hurt to play them all again.
"So why did you have to run sprints at practice Friday?" Laurence asked me, as I sipped on my smoothie, the next level loading.
I glanced up at him, Toby glancing over at me with an amused smile on his face.
"Just a misunderstanding with Coach."
"I bet you'll ask for clarification next time," Toby said, with a laugh.
I rolled my eyes, unamused.
Friday's workout will haunt me for the rest of the season.
My phone buzzed in my hand before Laurence or Toby could ask me anymore questions, and I glanced down expecting to see an incoming call from Terrence, telling me that it was all-clear.
But instead my brother's name stared back up at me.
I stared at my phone for a few moments, my eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. My brother and I didn't necessarily have a friendly phone call just because type of relationship.
"Hey," I said, answering his phone call as I walked out of the dorm room.
"What are you doing?" Michael asked me.
"I'm drinking a smoothie? Is that important?"
"Did mom call you?"
I shoved my free hand into the pocket of my gym shorts, already knowing what direction this conversation was going. "No."
"Adam, did she?"
"I said no."
"Okay, well I just got off the phone with her. She's having one of her episodes, and I can't get ahold of dad. Do not answer the phone when she calls you."
"Fine."
"Adam I'm serious."
"I understand."
"Yeah but I know you," Michael said, in a monotone voice. "Do not answer the fucking phone."
"I don't need to be told what to do like a fucking child," I shot back. "I won't."
"Fine. I'll keep trying to get ahold of dad."
"Fine."
And then our conversation ended.
I took a seat out in the hallway, letting out a long sigh as my back rested against the wall behind me.
I kept my phone in my left hand, using my right index finger to trace a pattern on the carpet beside me, my thoughts racing.
And then my phone buzzed in my hand.
I stared at the screen, indecision flickering through me.
I hesitated with my thumb hovering above the screen, glancing over my shoulder at the bandana-ridden door before looking back down at my phone screen again.
And then I slid my finger across the screen.
"Hey mom."
~*~
I reached over and pressed snooze on the incessant beeping in my ear, groaning at the pounding headache taking place inside of my skull.
I pulled my pillow up over my face, my skull feeling as though someone was taking a hammer to it.
Happy Monday morning.
I pushed myself upright, glancing over at Terrence's bed.
It was empty.
And then I registered the sound of the shower, meaning that he must've given up on trying to wake me up before taking his morning shower.
I shut off my alarm clock before it could go off again, wiping my hand across my face.
The last I remember is waking up from a nightmare. For some reason this one had really hit me hard, luckily for reasons I can't remember. And I hadn't been able to go back to sleep.
I'd apparently taken care of that problem, just gone a little overboard with it.
I pulled some orange juice out of my mini-refrigerator as the shower shut off, fixing my hangover the only way I knew how.
Terrence came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower waist.
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," he commented in a monotone voice.
"Morning," I answered in a gravelly voice.
He grabbed some clothes from his bed.
"You're all pissy with me," I commented, as he headed back to the bathroom.
He didn't comment.
Terrence was the biggest drama queen I knew, and when he got pissed off with me he tended to carry a grudge.
I tipped back my drink, pushing myself up onto two feet. "Did I wake you up last night?"
Terrence came back into the room, dressed in shorts now. "Yeah."
"Sorry."
"You know that shit doesn't bother me. It's the way you choose to handle it." He tossed his towel in the hamper rather forcefully, and I let out a long sigh.
"I offered to stay up with you last night," he reminded me. "And you told me you had it under control. This isn't what I expected."
"Come on T, let's not start this now."
"I'll see you downstairs."
"You're not going to wait for me?" I questioned.
"Don't be late." And with that he left our dorm room, letting the door slam behind him.
Great.
I grabbed a Captain America shirt off of the rack, running my hand across my face to help clear out my vision, which was still blurred from being half-asleep. I grabbed my red shorts, throwing them on in a hurry.
I always liked to check with Terrence before heading downstairs, making sure that I was actually wearing what I intended to.
I'd been born with two of the three cones missing in my eyes, meaning that I was virtually completely colorblind. I could see specks of certain colors, but it was almost like a foreign language to me. It was hard to learn the color scale when you couldn't see most of it, and the colors you could see didn't look like they were supposed to.
I tipped back the rest of my drink, setting the empty glass on top of my mini-refrigerator with a sigh.
The best way to deal with a hangover was not to deal with it at all.
~*~
"Aren't you supposed to meet your peer mentor today?" Terrence asked me, tossing his books down on the bed. "In fact, didn't you have class this morning?"
I was supposed to meet that Sarah girl in exactly 23 minutes. And I'd had class at 9:00 this morning.
Terrence knew way too much about my life.
But during breakfast I'd remembered bits and pieces of the nightmare I'd tried so hard to forget. That combined with the conversation I'd had with my mom yesterday had been enough for me to pardon myself from class.
Who needs college anyways? Maybe I'll just become a firefighter or a police officer or something.
"Get up Adam," Terrence ordered, in a tired voice.
"Turn the light back off," I ordered, my pillow pulled over my face to block it out.
I could hear him rummaging through my stuff. "Adam, did you drink that entire bottle of Jack Daniels?"
Yes.
"No."
I felt my arm being pulled, and then I was forcefully being yanked out of bed.
"Ouch," I complained, rubbing my bicep as I stumbled to two feet.
"Get. Up." Terrence ordered, his voice clipped.
"Well I am now."
"Freshen up. And then you're going to meet with your mentor in 20 minutes."
"I can reschedule that, she's a bitch anyways," I mumbled, running my hand across my face.
"I don't care what she is. Your position on the team depends on it. As does your mental health."
I lowered my eyes at him, and he just stared at me, a stoic expression on his face.
"You're not going to lie here and drink all day," he informed me. "Especially when we have practice this afternoon. You'll puke."
It's never bothered me before.
"Brush your teeth, do something with your hair. Let's go."
My phone rang as I was brushing my teeth.
"Your dad, I got it!" Terrence called.
I tried telling him no, but it was too late.
"Hey Mr. W, it's Terrence," he said, answering my phone on speaker.
"Is Adam there?" my dad asked, his voice urgent.
"He's right here, you're on speaker."
"Adam, did you take that phone call from your mother yesterday?"
Terrence stared at me from a few moments, as though the pieces were clicking into place for him.
I shook my head no, before spitting the toothpaste out into the sink.
"He says no," Terrence said, in a monotone voice.
"Adam," my dad said, his voice a few octaves lower. "Did you. Take that phone call. From your mother?"
I held out my hand for my phone, but Terrence climbed up on his desk, holding it up above his head.
Did you? He mouthed, raising his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab my phone.
But I couldn't reach it.
"Adam?" my dad pressed.
"Just for a minute," I relented, and Terrence lowered his eyes at me.
"I'm coming up there," my dad informed me.
"That's not necessary. Would you tell Terrence to give me my phone back?"
"You boys work that out yourselves. And it is necessary Adam, you know that you're not to be talking to your mother when she's having one of her episodes."
"How was I supposed to know?"
"Michael told me that he told you."
Terrence picked up a roll of tape off of his desk, throwing it at my face.
"She didn't even say anything-" I started.
"Adam, you're in an unstable place right now," my dad snapped. "As is your mother."
"This conversation is over," I snapped in return. "Terrence, give me back my fucking phone. Now."
Terrence passed it to me wordlessly, and I ended the call without another word.
Silence fell between us, and Terrence slowly climbed down off of his desk.
"I'm going to meet this Sarah chick," I informed him. "Be back later."
"I'll walk with you."
"Not happening."
But he already grabbed his student ID, pushing open the door ahead of me. "Not negotiable."
"What did she say?" Terrence asked me, as we headed down the elevator together.
"I'd really rather if we didn't do this."
"You shouldn't have taken the damn phone call Adam. But you did, and now look at you."
I ignored him, stepping out of the elevator and heading out of the dorm building.
"So was it that blonde guy?" I asked, glancing over at him. "On the floor below us?"
Terrence glanced over at me, pausing for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."
"I told you."
"I didn't get the vibe," he said, with a slight shake of his head. "And I'm almost never wrong."
"But I'm never wrong."
"Well he was a good lay, so it was worth being wrong over."
I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "We've got to hook you up."
"I told you that I'm not interested in a hook up. I'll be lucky if I can make it through this football season unscathed."
"QB 1 is the most sought after lay."
"Well they can keep seeking. I'll be lucky to have a girlfriend by the time I'm 30."
With the amount of bullshit I have going on, I'd be lucky if the girl didn't run screaming after the first date.
"Not if I have anything to do with it," Terrence declared, and I just rolled my eyes.
We came to a stop outside of the Starbucks I was meeting Sarah at.
"Phone," Terrence ordered, holding out his hand.
"No way in hell."
"Hand it over or I will sit at the table next to you during your entire session and embarrass the shit out of you."
I let out a long sigh, knowing that he wasn't kidding. So I handed him my phone.
"No more phone calls from your mom," Terrence ordered.
"She's still my mom."
"Then you call her."
I didn't answer, and he nodded, tucking his phone away into his pocket. "Despite what you think Adam, you don't deserve what she says during her episodes. And you don't need to take her phone calls to punish yourself."
I sometimes wish that Terrence didn't know me as well as he did, that he hadn't been my best friend for so long.
"Oh thank you therapist Terrence," I said, before shoving open the Starbucks door. "Whatever would I do without you?"
"I'm too worried to find out."
I flipped him off over my shoulder before heading inside.
Brunette with a blue shirt.
None of that helps me.
"Were you really going to walk past me?" a female's voice asked.
I turned to see a girl staring at me, her eyebrows raised. She had long hair that fell around her face and down her slim body, a body that was accentuated by a form fitting v-neck and a pair of shorts that made her legs look like they stretched for miles.
Look up Adam. Look up.
"Um, Sarah?"
"Am I brunette wearing a blue shirt?"
I don't know.
"You're just as much of a bitch as you are over text, so I'm assuming so," I said, before sliding into the chair across from her.
Her eyes scanned my outfit, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Did you get dressed in the dark?"
I glanced down at my outfit, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
A Captain America shirt and a pair of red shorts. That matched, right?
Captain America, red white and blue. Of course that matched.
"You said a Captain America shirt and red shorts," she reminded me.
"Yeah?"
"Unless lime green is now red, I think you got dressed in the dark."
Fucking hell. Terrence let me walk out of the dorm room looking like a highlighter.
"I'm colorblind."
Might as well get this conversation over with now. It'll save us plenty of grief later.
She stared at me for a few moments, her gaze wavering. "Like red-green?"
"Like all colors on the spectrum."
She blinked a few times. "I'm sorry."
"Unless you took the two cones out of my eyes, no need to apologize."
"I mean sorry for calling you out on your outfit."
"Well I'm glad someone did. My best friend let me walk around like this for fuck's sake."
"Do you ever not curse?"
"Right now."
She rolled her eyes. "Would you like something to drink?"
My dad always warned me to choose my poison during the season. I'm sure he didn't mean it in the way that I took it, but I already drank enough alcohol to kill a lineman. I didn't need to add caffeine to that list too.
"No, none for me thanks."
"Sarah?" the Starbucks barista called out.
She disappeared just for a moment and then came back with an iced coffee.
"So what classes are you taking this semester?" she inquired.
"Do we really need to do this?" I questioned.
I'm sure she has better things to do with her time, as do I.
"I showed, you don't need to tattle to my coach anymore. But the whole mentor thing is a little over the top, don't you think? If I needed academic help I'd go to the tutor center, not to a girl roughly the same age as me."
"I'm a Junior," she informed me, her voice hard. "Finished my Gen Eds. Happy to help."
Of course she's older than me. Certainly doesn't look it though.
"I'm 18," she added. "Just got my AA while I was getting my high school diploma."
So she's the same age as me then. I knew it.
"Do you hate college or something?"
I mean I wasn't one for going to class, but I at least wanted to have my 4-year college experience the best that I could. I was in no hurry to start working and paying bills for the rest of my life.
"It was just more convenient," she said, with a shrug. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You graduated and then came straight here for summer classes, was that a difficult transition for you?"
"I graduated early," I informed her. "Back in December. But I had to take care of some things before I started here in the summer."
I had to take care of myself, according to my dad, before I could move away for college.
"So was that a difficult transition for you? Taking a semester off before coming back to school?"
"No."
The semester off was the difficult part. I couldn't wait to get back to football, and school if I had to.
"The first game of the season is this Saturday," she reminded me.
As though I could've possibly forgotten.
"Do you think that that will have any affect on your schoolwork?" she continued.
"No."
I was taking the basic classes, College Algebra, English 1, Biology, and Psychology.
I surely wasn't going to strain myself. Just so long as I actually went to class.
"Well so long as you don't have any questions or concerns, then we're pretty much done here."
Is she joking?
"We can get as much or as little as you want out of these sessions," she informed me. "I can help you with schoolwork, we can talk about the stresses you're having balancing football and school, or we can talk about outside stressors. Whatever you'd like to make of these."
"Or I can just check in with you and leave?"
"Sure."
Maybe this peer mentor thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.
So what did you guys think about Adam's punishment? The coach promised that he'd pay for missing all those summer peer mentor meetings, do you think it was fitting? What about the phone call from his mom, what do you think that was about? You got to see a lot of Adam's personal life, anything stick out? And then what about his first meeting with Sarah?
The picture up at the top was submitted by emmajaney. What do guys think?
I can't stop listening to Panic! At The Disco. You know when you just get hooked on a certain artist and you become obsessed? That's me right now.
Teaser: Sarah's POV. She heads to the first season football game as a Vanderbilt student with Aubrey.