Chapter Fourteen
Stryder
“Cooper!” I heard the coach’s voice yell, making me snap to the side after I messed up another offensive play. My mind was totally floating, and I knew I was botching up the practice game real bad.
“Sorry, Coach!” I said loudly, feeling a bit ashamed. I didn’t dare look at my teammates.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Coach Ford demanded as he approached me.
I shrugged, not wanting to look him in the eye. I knew I haven’t been playing my best for a week now since I got back from Green Meadows.
“Take a break, Cooper,” Coach Ford said with a huge sigh and a shake of his head. “If you don’t straighten up your act this afternoon, you’re not playing on Saturday.”
“Yes, sir,” was all I could say. Feeling totally frustrated and even angry at myself, I trudged back to the dugout and sat with my shoulders slumped.
The first championship game against our strongest opponent was only two days away. My dad would never make me hear the end of it if I’m not out on the field on that day. The prospective consequence was too vexing, so I really had to get my act together.
I tried to focus on football, to keep my mind from straying. But no matter what I did, I always saw her face in my head wherever I went. I thought the nagging discomfort would eventually go away, but it only got worse as days passed by. There was a slight pain in my gut that I could not explain. Sometimes, I even lost my appetite.
“Hey, what’s up?” a deep male voice came.
I looked up, still distracted. My eyes focused on Ivan’s face, which was presently filled with concern. He sat beside me.
“Women problems, huh?” he teased.
I scoffed and didn’t say anything.
“Or should I say a specific woman problem?” Ivan probed. “Come on, I know it when I see it. What happened to you and Tasha?”
“Nothing, man.”
He nudged me with his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ve been there, too. You’ve finally fallen hard and you just can’t admit it.”
I almost laughed, but somehow he was striking a chord in my chest.
“You’ve got to talk to her, man,” Ivan said. “Look, it’s none of my business, but I’d hate for you to miss the first championship game because of this. We need you.”
I nodded thoughtfully, knowing that he was right. The problem was that I wasn’t sure if Tasha would want to see me ever again. After I left her in Green Meadows and never even called to ask how her ankle was doing, she probably wouldn’t want to hear from me ever again.
“Just give it a shot,” Ivan urged.
I gave him a surprised look, and then actually chuckled. “Are you some kind of mind reader?”
He laughed, too, patting me on the back. “Just trust me. I’m speaking from experience. You won’t know how it’ll turn out unless you try to talk to her.”
He stood up and joined the others then, leaving me alone with my muddled up thoughts and feelings. I didn’t have time to see her at that very moment, though, and I don’t think a simple call would be able to fix things.
I thought of visiting her after practice. I vowed to myself silently that I would at least try to reach out and sort out our relationship—or whatever was left of it.
The break was over. I felt just a bit more energized as I went back to the field. The thought of my father’s wrath wasn’t enough to make me play better. But thinking of seeing Tasha that afternoon and perhaps figuring out where we’d go next… it gave me hope and strength.
Coach Ford was eyeing me warily, but I tried not to focus on that. I did my best to bury my fears and doubts and instead imagine a positive meeting with Tasha later. It helped some, I believe. I was able to somehow improve my game again, which made the coach lay off my back for the rest of practice time.
My heart was thumping abnormally as I knocked on Tasha’s apartment door. Nobody answered at first, which jacked up my nervousness even more.
I drummed my fingers on the side of my pants as I leaned my back on the wall beside the door, my head running with a million thoughts.
“Hold on! Coming!” I heard her voice call out from inside. My heart seemed to skip a beat. I stood up straight, rehearsing a few lines in my head, trying to rearrange the message I wanted to express.
Suddenly, the door opened, revealing the beautiful woman that had captured my heart. Her dark waves cascaded loosely past her shoulders, covering her bare shoulders. Her cheeks were a bit flushed, her eyes bright and cheerful. The radiant smile on her face was enough to melt my heart and render me speechless for just a few seconds.
The smile froze on her face, though, when she saw that it was me waiting outside. Had she been expecting someone?
“Uh, hi,” I said uncertainly. “Is this a bad time?”
“Oh, hey,” she greeted reluctantly, looking quite awkward. “Uhm, I’m actually on my way out.”
“Oh,” was all I could say. Our eyes locked on each other and I could instantly feel the deep connection there, causing sparks to fly across my body. “I’m sorry. I should have called.”
“It’s okay,” she said, the smile returning to her face. “Perhaps another time?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to show my disappointment. At least she was offering an alternative, and did not look the least bit furious at me. There was a good chance that I could still pull this off. “How about early dinner tomorrow?” I then offered.
“Uhm, I already have plans,” she said, which made me narrow my eyes before I could stop myself. “Maybe I’ll see you at the game on Saturday.”
“Uh, sure,” I said. “We can have dinner after the game, if you’re free.”
“Okay,” she said hurriedly, locking her door before walking away. “Running late, sorry!”
I found myself stumped, not knowing what to do. But eventually, I followed her to the front of the building. She didn’t go to the parking lot, which raised my suspicions. And as I had suspected, she was picked up by Brad in his rather new car. It was an older model than mine, but that didn’t matter, anyway. He had the woman I wanted, and I was left regretting that I had ever let her go.
I was quite confused and depressed. I drove around town aimlessly without a clear direction of where I wanted to go. The thought of Tasha and Brad together was driving me insane, and I hated the feeling. I yearned to escape from it, but now I knew that trying to forget her was making things worse for me.
My phone kept ringing. I wanted to keep ignoring it. When I finally glanced at the screen to check who it was, I was forced to stop the car to answer it.
“Dad,” I said after tapping the answer button on the touchscreen. “What’s up?”
“Stryder, I just got off the phone with Coach Ford,” he said sternly. I could tell he was doing his best to control his anger. “What is wrong with you?”
The question was certainly offensive, but I was sort of used to my father acting that way when it came to football. Nonetheless, it was still irritating and hurtful.
“Coach suspects a woman,” my father said irately. “Is this true?”
I sighed deeply. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fixing it and getting back on track.”
“Alright, son,” he answered austerely. “Don’t disappoint me. No woman is worth losing your career over.”
“Yes, sir.” My heart wasn’t really in it, but I just wanted to put an end to the conversation. At least he didn’t say more.
That evening, I couldn’t sleep. I felt bad about so many things, and it was exasperating to be so powerless.
I knew, though, that I had to do well during the championship game—not only for my dad, but because Tasha was going to be there, too. And more than anything, I also wanted the achievement for myself. I’ve already invested so much time and effort into my football career. I didn’t want to lose it in one click.