During the training season, we trained every day. We had to get back into peak condition. Me, more than anyone else.

Coach Rudi let us run plays on Wednesday.

“Don’t do it until you get it right,” he told us all the time. “Do it until you can’t get it wrong.”

So, we ran the plays repeatedly until we couldn’t think about anything else anymore.

I liked running plays. Liked that I didn’t have to think about them. Football was second nature to me. It was the one thing that kept my mind off all the shit that happened in my life. Ironic, then, that the most shit in my life revolved around football right now.

“Again!” Coach shouted, and the guys groaned. We had run the same play about a hundred times now.

We ran back to our positions. I was ready when the ball was supposed to come to me. Markus had the ball, and he was supposed to pass to me. I would pass it on to Brian.

I had my hands up and ready for the ball when Markus bypassed me and threw it straight to Brian, who caught it. The play finished in no more than two seconds after that.

My lungs burned and my thighs screamed at me after being out of action for so long. It didn’t feel like I’d been training as hard as I had since coming to Miami. And I was pissed, too. The guys were shutting me out on purpose.

God, I knew that I had a history. I knew that they didn’t like me. But how the hell was I going to prove myself if I wasn’t allowed to, if they were just going to push past me like I didn’t exist?

I was frustrated. I felt like shit, to be honest. I was getting angry with the players bypassing me the way they did, but I had to ignore it, push it away, because I wasn’t allowed to get violent. It was in my contract.

If I punched someone in the face—like Markus, for instance—my career would be over for good. No one would want me again.

It was a miracle the Sharks had decided to take me in the first place. I knew I should be grateful, but I couldn’t help but be resentful.

Still. Mind over matter, I reminded myself. No matter how pissed off I got at how the guys were treating me or how much I didn’t belong, I couldn’t lose my cool.

People like Markus knew it, too. He was always riling me up, trying to get me to snap. The only reason I kept it together was to keep doing what I loved. I could bite back my temper if I wanted to. I could control myself.

I didn’t have to be the man that Marisa had made me, no matter how badly she’d fucked me over.

“Again!” Coach shouted.

I took a deep breath, pushed away the anger, the frustration, the feeling of complete inadequacy, and ran the play again.

Even though Markus skipped me another three times. Even though Brian caught the ball every time like the play worked exactly the way they had already been playing it. Without me.

Even though Coach Rudi didn’t say anything either.

I put my head down and pushed through, doing what I knew how to do, no matter how hard it got. Because that was what football was. That was what my life was. I wasn’t going to give up just because it was getting hard.

Hell, it had been hard for a long time. But football was all I had left. I couldn’t give it up.

When we walked back to the locker room, Brian jogged up next to me.

“Sorry about that, earlier,” he said. “The plays. That had nothing to do with me.”

I nodded. “No sweat,” I said.

I felt like he should have said something or dropped the ball, but who was I do decide how he had to handle Markus?

“No,” Brian said. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my idea. Markus is just being a dick. And don’t worry. He’s like that to everyone, so don’t take it personally.”

I nodded. I appreciated Brian’s effort but I didn’t want to go into it. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“Thanks for taking the time to let me know, Brian,” I said.

He clapped me on the back and walked to the locker rooms ahead of me. I followed, feeling despondent. There was no anger anymore. I had pushed it down far enough not to feel it anymore, and all that was left in the wake of it was a big gaping hole of nothingness. 

I was tired.

Tired of being ignored, tired of being hated, tired of being the odd one out. 

After I got dressed, I fished for my phone. I had a voicemail on my phone. When I listened to it, Kina’s voice was clear over the speakers.

“Jacob, hi,” she said. Her voice was a little husky, and it was a point of light in an otherwise dark day. “I was hoping we could meet for dinner tonight to talk about a couple of things. Let me know.”

I smiled. Dinner with Kina was the best thing I could think of right now. Everything was going in the wrong direction, and she could help me. Hell, she could just smile at me and it would feel good. I’d never admit that to anyone but myself, though.

When I dialed her number, I got voicemail, too. I left her a message, confirming.

She let me know later that afternoon to meet her at BurgerFi. I hadn’t been there before. Casual, she said in her text.

For the first time in a long time, I was excited. I knew I wasn’t supposed to fuck Kina again. She was off limits. But little things like that had never stopped me, and I wasn’t about to let them start.