The drum beat kicked it off and had all the ladies raising their drinks into the air. A driving drum beat threw me straight into the chorus of “Since U Been Gone.” The crowd sang along with me. I found my target in the crowd and leveled my raised finger at him, I sung to him and only him.
The other football players at his table threw their heads back and laughed. Knox stared at him like he expected an explosion at any minute.
I ripped my gaze away, playing it up to the rest of the crowd, high on more than a combination of tequila and happy hour appetizers.
Working the crowd, I walked to the edge of the stage, singing to the blurry sea of guys in front of me. High fives were thrown, and more than a few were standing on their feet.
Triumphant energy flowed through me and nearly carried me across the stage. I gripped the mic, not wanting to let go as I threw my head back and belted out the final high note.
I shoved the mic back into the stand and took a bow with my arms out wide at my sides and my ankles crossed. I flung my head back with a face splitting grin.
Trying to focus on anything around me, my head swam. I stumbled on the step down to the floor.
A set of arms wrapped around me.
“Thanks.” I patted the chest of the football player standing for his chance.
“Damn, that’s one set of pipes you have.” He definitely had some swagger. Too bad I was about to puke.
I nodded, clamping my lips tight.
Dare jumped out of his seat, but I waved him away. “Back off.”
I rushed past my table. Ha! Finally, a benefit to not being linebacker big. Scurrying past guys with drinks and plates of food, I wove through the tables to get outside.
The free summer air was the perfect jolt to wake me up before my stomach finally revolted. I braced my hands on the brick wall and said goodbye to all the delicious food and drinks that had fortified me for my first song in front of anyone in four years. The puking was so worth it. Every retch felt like maybe I’d finally purged myself of whatever was holding me back.
If getting shitfaced was the key to my dream, maybe I need to invest in a still or a craft beer kit. It could get expensive otherwise.
“Bay!” Spencer and Cheryl burst through the doors, holding my stuff. They screamed and yelled congratulations even as I wiped my mouth.
I fished some tissues out of my bag and accepted the mint Cheryl popped into my mouth. “Did you see me?” For a split second, I feared I’d hallucinated the whole thing.
“Hell yes, everyone did. You fucking killed it.” Spencer high fived me, but it ended up more of a high three when our hands brushed past each other. He picked me up and spun me around.
“I ordered us a cab, it should be pulling up now.” Cheryl craned her neck peering down the block into the oncoming headlights.
I smacked Spencer’s shoulders to let me down before he was christened in puke.
The doors opened again and brushing my hair out of my face, my smile flickered and faded.
Dare stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Our car pulled up along the sidewalk and the two of them climbed in.
“It’s none of your business what I am. And I’ll say it again in case you didn’t hear me the first time.” I dropped back into the car and scooted back closing the door. “Bye, Dare.” I waved and the taxi merged into traffic. Spencer and Cheryl exchanged glances like they expected me to launch into the whole story, not just the highlight reel I’d already given Spencer. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
Instead, I rested my head against the glass and closed my eyes. The spins were hitting me hard, but I didn’t care. The puking was worth it. I’d finally broken the curse. Now I needed to do it again.
5
Dare
I left the bar early, my brain searing with the chemical burn of regret. Knox stayed behind to soak up all the attention and benefits that came with being an LA Lion. Good, I needed some time to breathe. The collar on my button-down felt like it was cinching tighter with every step.
Getting out of there was the only way I’d have a chance to stay on the team. The strict no fighting rule had been in the conduct guide handed out to everyone at the first team meeting. We’d been given examples of others who’d cut their careers short with one punch.
Back in the apartment, I’d put on my sneakers, not even taking the time to change out of my clothes. The night heat hadn’t cooled off much from the day. Training in this would be torture, but all I could do was push myself harder and faster, weaving my way around the campus buildings.
After four years of being even keeled, I’d thought I could handle anything. It seemed like I’d put enough time and space between me and Greenwood and all the shitty baggage that came with growing up the way I had.
The second Vince touched Bay, though, I’d been thrown back into one of my hazes. I clung to the edge of calm, clawing at the ledge of the cliff until it felt like my nails would be ripped from their beds.
Knox had tapped me on my bicep with his beer. The cold, wet condensation pushed back some of the fanned fires. “You planning on taking a chunk of the table with you?”
I’d shot out of my seat as Bay walked toward her table.
Watching her up on stage, I’d been riveted to her every move like I’d always been, but now there was another layer of her confidence and abilities.
Did she come here every week to blow everyone away? Where was she going after college?
There were so many questions I had no right to expect answers to, but I needed to know.
I followed her out, relieved to see that her friends were with her and making sure she was safe.
And once again, I watched her leave, this time with a finality I deserved, especially after I’d been ready to jump over three tables to pry Vince’s hands off her.
My run didn’t stop until my legs were lead weights. I’d regret pushing myself in the morning, but maybe it would stop the dreams of her.
With barely enough energy to lower myself, I fell into bed and let a dreamless sleep claim me.
“Looking good, Keyton.” Tony, the tight end coach dropped the whistle from his mouth. He scribbled down a note on his tablet.
“Vince, don’t get lazy on me now. I want a snap out of you.” Tony clenched both his hands and growled. I couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain cartoon tiger.
Sweat poured off the tip of my nose and I braced my hands on my hips, sucking air into my lungs against the burning deprivation of exertion. Intensive, explosive drills had my muscles cursing me with every repetition. It all seemed simple enough.
The glares shooting at me down the line were blistering, but I’d get my spot on the squad. Whether I was starting lineup or not, I wasn’t going to be one of the guys sitting by the phone waiting to get the call to come down to the coaches’ offices with my playbook. Not after everything I’d been through.
Tony blew the whistle twice and we all dropped back into form. The drill was simple: get into a squat like I was on the line of scrimmage and explode out of that stance, charging the guy to my right.
“Run it again.” Tony called out to the four other guys spread out on either side of me.
We went through five different drills. Each one got me a call out from the Tight End Coach and each one pissed off Vince even more, which was an added bonus.