Chapter 10

Milo

 

 

Shit. I can’t get it together. I know I’m completely embarrassing myself and pissing off the coaches as well as my teammates. My hands feel like sausages, and I have no control over the ball. I may as well kick the damn thing with as much precision as I have throwing it.

“Pastek!” I heard my name being shouted from the sidelines. “Pull your head out of your ass!”

I didn’t even have to look over to see who it was. I knew it was Coach Summers.

“Yeah, Pastek, pull your head out of your ass. Maybe you’d like Joe to throw the ball for you,” one of the backs grumbled as he walked past.

“Oh, hell yeah,” said Joe, one of the biggest men I’d ever seen in my life, as he grinned through his face mask. “I’ll throw the ball. Maybe I can show you a thing or two about what it means to get it down the field.”

“Sorry, guys. No excuses. I’ll get it,” I promised, hoping like hell I could follow through on that pledge.

My head was not in the game. Or practice. Or football in general. All I could think about was a little girl with red hair. It was throwing me way off. I couldn’t seem to get the ball down the field. Dead ducks is what I kept hearing. I couldn’t get defensive and argue. They were right. I was sucking hard today. My head felt completely disjointed from my body. Everything I had learned about throwing a ball over the last fifteen years had been replaced with images of a hot blond riding me in my dorm room five years ago.

“Got a turkey hangover? Woman on the brain?” one of the guys asked. “Maybe this is how bad you really are? Explains why your ass was riding the bench all last season. I can’t wait until we can get a real quarterback on the team,” he mumbled before walking away.

I took several deep breaths, got back in the lineup and vowed to make this next throw a good one.

Shit!

“I’m right here!” the receiver yelled up the field, his arms waving in the air.

I overshot, by a lot. It would have been a great pass if there had been someone there to catch it, I mused.

“Pastek! Sideline, now!” Coach Summers yelled.

I groaned, knowing what was coming. I jogged off the field and headed for Coach. Walking would probably get me killed and would certainly warrant another lecture.

“Yeah, Coach?” I asked.

“What the hell is going on out there? I could get a high school kid to throw passes like that!” he shouted through my facemask. “You realize this is the God damned NFL, right? This is where the big boys play! Are you good enough to play with the big boys, Pastek?”

I nodded my head. “Yes. Yes, I am. You’re right coach. I’m off. I’m going to do better.”

“Focus! I don’t know what kind of shit you stirred up over the past two days but fix it and get your shit together! Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Get your ass out there and prove to me I didn’t waste my time getting you on this team!”

“I will, Coach,” I said, before turning and running back onto the field.

I had to pull it together. I couldn’t keep going like this. I had to talk to Liza and straighten things out. I could be wrong. I could be getting all freaked out for no reason at all. Instead of wondering and assuming, getting stressed out for nothing, I would just have to ask her point blank. I was pretty confident I would be able to tell if she was being honest. At least I hoped so. I had to know.

Right now, though, I had to throw a pass or I was going to find myself out of a job. I took several deep breaths and shook out the nerves by shaking my arms and hands.

“You going to throw the ball or you going to stand there and use your jazz hands?” one of my receivers sneered.

I ignored the insults. I couldn’t afford to let them get in my head, too. Liza had already done a great job of doing just that. It was as if she got in there with that kid and jumbled my brain. I couldn’t think straight.

I managed to get through the next hour of practice without completely blowing it, but I was not up to par. I knew that. I felt like shit over it and knew the guys were certainly not going to let me forget it. I walked into the locker room with my head hung low. I’d fucked up royally. I knew that. I had let down my coach and the team I was trying to win over.

I’d already showered and was getting dressed when I heard Coach request to see me. I already knew what was coming and ignored the snide remarks and names the other guys were whispering. I had let them down, no doubt. They didn’t like me already, and I wasn’t doing anything to win their trust or respect on the field or in the locker room.

I was at one of the lowest points of my life, and these guys had no qualms about kicking me while I was down. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t argue and tell them to shut the fuck up. I just ignored them and let them say what they wanted. I couldn’t dispute it. Not yet. I would. At least I hoped I would.

“Hey, Coach,” I said, knocking on his office door.

He was reading some paperwork. He looked up and gestured for me to come in.

“Shut the door,” he ordered.

I did as I was told and sat down in the chair across from his desk, waiting for my lecture.

He rubbed his hands over his face and then stared at me for several long, drawn-out seconds.

“Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

I shook my head. Hell no, I didn’t want to tell him what was going on. He would probably shoot me.

“Something is off. You weren’t great last week, but you were a damn sight better than you were today. This is not you. I haven’t seen you throw this bad since freshman year. Something is not right. If you don’t want to tell me, fine, but we need to figure out where this goes from here,” he said, disappointment in his voice.

“Coach, it was an off day. I know that. I got some stuff going on, but it isn’t anything I can’t take care of, and I will. You’re not wasting your time on me, I swear. I can do this. Today, it just, I don’t know, I just couldn’t get my head into it,” I admitted.

“No shit, Milo,” he said, with a great deal of frustration.

“I won’t let this happen again. I promise. I will pull it together. I should have figured it out before I ever stepped onto the field today, but I didn’t.”

“Is this over a woman?”

“No,” I lied. It was, but not like he thought. “This is something from my past that I have to work out. I promise you; I will. Tomorrow, I will be better.”

“You damn well better be. I don’t have to tell you that both of our careers are riding on this. We have a game on Sunday, and we have to prove to the fans, the owners, and your teammates that putting you on this team was the right move. I think you know what happens if we can’t do that,” he said, in a voice that was filled with tension.

“I completely understand.”

“Good. Now get out of here and go fix whatever it is you broke,” he grumbled.

I stood, ready to leave.

“Milo, make sure you stop by the team doctor and get that form signed. You can’t play on Sunday if you’re not cleared.”

“I will. Sorry, I forgot to do it last week,” I mumbled, realizing I just kept screwing up.

“Seems to be a trend,” he shot back.

I sighed and headed out the door. The few remaining guys in the locker room all shot me glares as I walked through. I didn’t bother glaring back. Instead, I headed straight for the team doctor. I had to show coach I was serious. This wasn’t college. Back in those days, I could skate by. Not today. This was my actual job. If I didn’t perform, I didn’t get paid. I got fired. If I got fired, I was going to be completely screwed. I had no real money saved. I had no actual job skills. I had no contacts within the industry to get a job working as a coach or even a sportscaster.

This was it for me. My job as an NFL quarterback was all I had. If it turned out that little girl was mine, I didn’t want to be the loser showing up without child support or the ability to buy her gifts. I wasn’t going to be that guy. This was the exact reason I never wanted to have kids. I didn’t want the pressure or responsibility of taking care of a child.

I knew if I fucked up, I would be adding another kid to the system. I would never do that to anyone. Of course, I was being dramatic in this particular case. Liza was obviously doing just fine on her own. She didn’t need me and obviously didn’t want me in Ainsley’s life, which just pissed me off even more.

I wasn’t even being given the chance to be a deadbeat dad.

“Pastek! Wait up.”

I turned to see Luke walking behind me. “Hey, Luke.”

“You okay?” he asked.

I smiled. I had a friend, finally. “I’m good, just heading to the team doctor to get cleared for the game.”

He nodded his head. “Are you injured?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Girl trouble?”

I laughed. “In a way.”

Luke shook his head and gave a low whistle. “Man, I hope you get that figured out. Those women will mess with your head. I personally choose to stay away from them.”

“How’s that working out for you?” I asked.

He grinned. “Well, as long as I don’t get their names and they never come back to my place, it works out just great.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d thought that was an effective method of playing the field too, but it had backfired in my face.

“Be careful, man. You’re going to end up picking up a crazy lady one of these times.”

His face twisted into a horrified expression. “Oh no! Is that what happened to you?”

I shook my head. “In a way, yes, but I’ve got it under control. It will all be taken care of, and I’ll be ready for the game. Ain’t no lady going to mess with my head,” I proclaimed.

He slapped my shoulder. “Good. See you tomorrow,” he said, before heading towards the parking lot.

At least I hoped she wasn’t going to mess with my head. I had a feeling it was going to be a little more complicated than that. First, I had to find out how to contact her. I didn’t want to call her, and I couldn’t ask Coach to get her a message. I was going to have to use other means, but I was determined to deal with it now.

I had to get this out in the open so I could get it figured out and get my head back in the game.