The circulation in my fingers was nonexistent as I held tightly to the facemask of my helmet. The rain earlier in the day had turned the field into a swamp. It was misting now, keeping the white paint on the once green grass indecipherable. It only seemed fair that the first playoff game resembled the first home game of the season. Part of me felt left out, my uniform having being unsoiled.
I should be out there. Shane was taking a beating and needed a break. Coach knew it. The offensive coach knew it. Hell, the other team knew it. If they didn't, Shane wouldn't be wobbling as he struggled back to his feet. My brother was growling beside me as the refs let another dirty hit go free. My eyes flicked to Coach Gilly who was scrubbing his face as the offensive coach whispered in his ear. They both looked in my direction and Lucas shifted his stance.
"You know the rules, Laine." I turned my gaze to my brother and made sure it was telling him to shove the rules somewhere that my mother would be appalled to hear.
"Shane can't stand, Luke. How long before he forgets his own name?"
"That's not your call to make. Coach promised Dad that you weren't leaving the sidelines."
"We'll see about that." The comment couldn't have been better timed. Our last name was shouted, drawing both of our attention. Coach Gilly pointed at me as the offense came off the field. My brother grabbed my arm and grumbled a final warning. I shook him off before heading over to my coach.
"Russel," Coach shouted as he came stumbling off the field. After making his way to us, he propped his hand on my shoulder for stability. "Russel, get over to the PT. You're done. Lester."
"Yes, Coach."
"If I put you out there, you know what's going to happen, right? Not only will those boys be after you, but so will your folks."
"I understand all the risks. I want to be out there, Coach. I belong out there."
"She does." We both looked at Shane. One of the many masterminds trying to keep me behind the line. Sticking up for me now was a complete one eighty. "She should have been on the field in the first half."
"You have a quarter, Lester. Make sure it's a damn good one. You won't be getting another chance. Do you hear me?" I nodded earning a weary smile from the old man. He waved over the offensive coach. We were soon swarmed as my teammates realized what was happening. More than one smacked my pads in a show of respect. It might be my last chance to play, but it was going to be one that no one was going to forget. I'd make damn sure of that.
As the defense passed us, I felt my brother's heavy stare. It was the first jab of the night that would only multiple once I'm on the field. When I got off, my parents would be next. I could kiss any chance of going out after the game goodbye. As well as being trusted to go to school on my own. The leash they had me on was about to get shortened even further. That didn't matter as my teammates formed the wall around me. My focus had to be on the here and now.
"We're going to run Everest," I informed the men in a commanding tone. Something my brother and I inherited from our father.
"Gilly said we should run Sahara," Finn challenged. The curious glances from our teammates increased the fresh cloud of tension.
"We've got fifteen yards to go. I'm not wasting this chance to get ahead with a hand off. We're doing Everest."
Even with the helmet on, I could see the tightness in his jaw. I clapped my hands and the huddle broke. We lined up and I called out the play. There was a growl from the sidelines as the ball was set. Before Coach could call a timeout, I had felt the leather brushing my fingers. Joseph and his fellow linemen were driving forward, the defensive line falling back a few steps. As the masses concentrated on the pocket that had formed around me, I waited for my chance.
Our center had his arms stretched wide enough to stop three players from charging through the line. Joseph shoved his opponent until finally falling to the ground taking the brute with him. That was my opening. Finn ran ahead of me, drawing the attention of those waiting on the other side of the battle line. As the field shifted to chase after the decoy, I bolted to the opposite side. Each determined footstep was met with three beats of my heart.
The thudding of my heart echoed in my ears as my blood pumped harder throughout my body. The death grip I had on the ball cradled close to my torso made my arm heavy. Fourteen ounces of air wrapped in grooved leather had become a bowling ball. The voices cheering and hollering faded away as I honed in on the goal post. It was getting taller the closer I got. The hideous yellow taunting me that I wouldn't make it.
There was a flick of crimson in the corner of my eye. They were right on time. Having to shift their entire backfield from one end of the field to the other wouldn't take long. It was the main reason Finn was willing to fight me on this play. It was an endless cycle of short windows that could backfire at any minute. A black glove was inches from me, reaching out to take a victory. One way would be to strip the ball from me and reclaim possession of the game. The other, and more likely choice, would be to take me down completely.
Sensing the impending tackle, I turned to face him head on. The wide eyes beyond the face mask made me smile. The move had him second guessing his plan of attack. The decisions were dueling in his head. I could see them as they flicked across his eyes in that split second. His body shifted to come at me head on. Unfortunately, his feet weren't prepared to make the sudden change. One foot planted while the other slipped in the muddy grass. His body lurched forward and I spun around his toppling form. I sprinted toward the end zone, the path finally cleared as the other crimson clad players tried to make up for the failure of their teammate.
The buzzer screamed over the scoreboard as I crossed the nonexistent line. Spinning around, I took in the sight of the players. It was my favorite part. Not getting the points, or making the play happen. The look of joy on my teammates faces. The pride that dripped from Coach's. The pain from my opponents as they accepted they were bested by a girl.
Shane was the first to congratulate me after the special teams took over the field. He and Joseph were the only ones from our group that did. My brother stood stoically as he studied the extra point soar through the uprights as if there would be a question about how high the ball went prior to crossing the arm. Finn simply patted my shoulder as he passed by us for the water bottles.
"Coach is going to make you do suicides for an hour if you keep calling your own plays."
"You do it all the time," I mumbled as Finn offered me the water bottle.
"Seniority, little Lester. I've earned the trust that comes with making the big decisions. Besides, you had no reason to run it when a pass would have done the same thing."
"It wasn't as fun." I wasn't serious, and they all knew it. Changing the play hadn't been for fun. It had been for show. A sliver of proof that I could handle my place in a man's game.
When my brother and his friends had the wild idea months ago, I thought they were insane. I hadn't wanted anything to do with filling Shane's cleats when he graduated. I only had one year left and wasn't looking to make any waves. The first night under these lights, the fresh cut grass lingering around me. There was no other feeling like it on Earth. I would have been a fool if I hadn't gone through with the try outs. Missing the chance to play a game that I loved. A game that I was good at, too.
**~~**
Nothing said good game like your father demanding your car keys before you step over the threshold of the locker room. My mother stood a few feet behind him, anxiously anticipating a scene. I wasn't sure if she was expecting one from me, or a nosey parent passing by. She had gotten a lot of comments, but no one dared to question her sudden return.
My brother and our friends were lingering by the gate. The anger that hadn't left his face the whole game had finally softened into pity. Joseph had Heather trapped at his side as she squirmed for freedom. Cam had even stopped with Keegan to watch my punishment unfold. There was an itch under my skin from all the attention. Being paraded past everyone was humiliating.
Coach had chewed me out for my recklessness on the field, but even he had the decency to do it privately. My parents would do the same. Only after rubbing my nose in it though. My father didn't give so much as a backwards glare as we parted ways. That left me and my mother to drive home together. Total silence was guaranteed given the stunt I had just pulled as well as the rift caused by her absence.
Just as it did over the last few weeks, the house appeared haunted. There was no life in it anymore. The laughter of Lucas and the guys had faded. The smell of food being cooked as I walked in was replaced with stale air. The lights as they were flicked on didn't have the same welcoming warmth as they once did. Lucas had said it already, when he thought I couldn't hear, and he was right. This place wasn't a home any more.
After my mother left, we thought that was it for our family. Neither of us could imagine life would go on without change. It had though, and we made it work. The two of us had filled the rooms with the life we thought would never return. Our friends helped us to create a new family of sorts. A family that would bicker, care and protect one another. No one was going to leave without a word. To see what we had built come tumbling down was heartbreaking. Lord knows I had had enough heartbreak to last me a lifetime.
"We had an agreement," my father's voice bellowed as I stepped into the living room. He had been kind enough to wait until after I had showered and changed before giving me the lecture.
"You and Coach Gilly had an agreement. I didn't get a say." The shield my crossed arms created was cardboard instead of steel. Before my mother returned, the man standing in the center of the living room was reserved. He kept his head down and buried himself in work. It had been years since he'd scolded me or Lucas. This endless game of tug-o-war was unexpected and wearing on me.
"Believe me," he growled, "I'll be speaking to him in the morning."
"So you can ruin his weekend, too?"
"Blaine," my mother chirped softly from her place on the edge of the couch.
"Don't tell me I'm being disrespectful." I dropped the flimsy shield to jab a finger in the woman's direction. "I'm behaving the same way any teenage girl would. That's what you wanted, right? A daughter just like all the others. Here I am. Attitude and all."
"You're out of line."
"You're out of line," I spat. "Both of you. I haven't given you any reason to hover the way you do. For weeks, I have been a good little dog following all the new rules. That doesn't seem to matter to you though. All you seem to care about is what I do for an after school activity. Why is that? And don't give me that sorry excuse of my gender."
"We just feel that you would be better suited for something else. Art club," my mother squeaked out the idea as a dim bulb lit up in her brain. "You loved art. I bet there is a club you can join."
"I liked art, when I was twelve. Now I use it for the easy grade. I love football." My eyes met my father's hardened face. "I love it, Dad. And I'm good. You saw how good. You make me give it up and we're done."
"You can't just leave. We're your parents and this is your home."
"Oh, really?" I turned my attention to the woman. The shame spreading across her face before she twisted to avoid my stare was enough to know she knew my next words. I could have stopped. Should have stopped, but I wasn't done. If they wanted to tear apart the world I had finally found peace in, I would show them what I had learned. "We were your family, too. This was your home, too. You still left. Didn't have the stomach to sit us down and tell us. Your own children had to learn about it through a note."
"That's enough," my father barked. "You and your brother are so stuck in the past neither of you can move forward."
"When was the last time you talked with us, Dad? Lucas has applied to seventeen colleges. Do you know what he plans to do after college? Do you even know what I plan on doing after my senior year?"
The tightening of his arms over his chest confirmed he was in a corner. Lucas and I had discussed our futures multiple times. Whether my father cared to listen was his choice. Lucas had wanted to go pro after he got his mandatory degree. Football had been his life for so long that I think he didn't know what else to do. I was grabbing homework from the printer when I peeked at the applications he had printed.
The top sheet was information about Illinois State University's secondary education requirements. My big, protective brother wanted to be a teacher. Not a star athlete making millions as a rookie. He had accepted that the likelihood of him making it big was slim. Instead, he wanted to become a teacher. I could see him in a classroom. The cool teacher who was equally fair and strict. Probably would become a coach after getting used to his new position.
"We've both grown up right before your eyes, and you didn't notice. After being around just me, you still haven't." I gave them a chance to speak up. To tell me that I was wrong, or out of line again. Any cliché would be better than the silent guilt radiating off of them. I felt my voice soften as I let the last verbal jab fall free. "I don't want to stay in a place that makes me feel like another forgotten shadow."