1. Callum

“Hey, Callum!”

I froze at the sound of Head Coach Oliveira’s voice and turned to see that he was standing with the head coach of offense, Sean Dyers. They were deep in discussion, both frowning, and my heart sank all the way into the pit of my stomach at the sight. I walked toward them, pulling off my helmet and nearly walking into the team’s kicker, Rye, as he continued his drills.

I skirted him at the last second, mumbling an apology as I continued to my doom.

“What”s up, Cal?” Sean asked the moment I reached them. He gripped my shoulder, squeezing companionably. “No offense bro, but you didn”t play like this when we scouted you.”

The middle-aged coach was grinning like his statement was supposed to be anything other than horrifying.

As the new backup quarterback for the Austin Troopers, I had been hoping to come into training camp at my best.

“I know,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “I”m sorry. I”m just?—”

“Nervous?” he guessed.

“Yeah, basically,” I admitted, my gaze darting to Coach Oliveira who hadn”t said a word yet. Instead, he was just piercing me with those intense dark eyes until I was sweating double.

“See?” Sean said. “That was what I was telling Oliveira, here. You”ll pull it together.”

I nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

He was about two inches shorter than me, which at my six-two, meant Sean had been pretty short for a former quarterback, but he obviously knew what he was doing. The problem wasn’t him so much as it was me. Between him and the other QB coaches, I should have been getting better and better, but every time Coach Oliveira’s eyes landed on me, I seemed to lose all confidence. For some reason, I choked every time any of the coaches looked my way.

“You”re going to have to get over that fast,” Coach Oliveira said, finally gracing me with his hard, deep voice. There was no room for nonsense with the man and I didn”t blame him. He had a lot to prove after two years coaching the newest team in the NFL. The Austin Troopers had started with a bang and he had been taking them further each season so far.

The fact that I had been made a part of the team was an overwhelming honor.

“You need to get to know the guys,” Sean informed me. “Mingle, have a drink when someone asks you...”

My cheeks heated as I realized he”d probably heard me turning people down since day one.

“They don”t bite. Plus, getting to know Kelly at the very least is no harm. He can give you some pointers.”

Before I could die of embarrassment, someone dropped their arm around my shoulders. I stiffened, glancing over to see that Addison Kelly himself, starting quarterback for the team had obviously heard his name and decided to crash my humiliation party.

He caught my dark eyes with his playful aqua blue and winked before looking at Sean.

“What”s up?” he asked. “You want me to take over your job and coach the new quarterback, Sean? I wouldn”t do that to you. I know you need the money.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

He smacked Kelly, who dodged out of the way, releasing me after I was yanked along. Apparently, everyone was done talking to me, because Coach Oliveira took a step away and blew his whistle, shouting out that practice was done.

Kelly smacked my ass as he passed me on his way toward the changing room.

“Coach is right though,” he informed me, as he passed. “You should come for a drink at Hand Wing Brewing. We were planning to go tomorrow night.”

“Everyone is?” I asked.

“Everyone who can make it.” He shrugged.

“Yes! Come out for a few this time, Cal,” Cooper, the upbeat Cornerback said, clapping my shoulder as we walked.

I pursed my lips, trying for a smile.

Tomorrow was our last day of training camp, and a Friday. It would be hard to come up with an excuse to bail this time.

But there was no way I could go.

Not to mention, I would be shit company anyway.I”d been in a bad mood for over a week now and it was showing in everything I did.

It wasn”t nerves. It wasn”t fear. It was cold hard resentment mixed with the sad thought that kept repeating in my head like it was on spin cycle.

Addison Kelly was too good.

I followed his back with my eyes as he walked into the changing room. I’d been watching him more than I should, my focus internally moving from training and showing my best to an obsession with the current team quarterback.

The way Addison moved in general felt fluid and instinctive. There was a confidence there that I certainly didn’t possess. He knew he was good. At football and probably everything else he did. He seemed like someone who always had things go his way.

And he was never going to let me get on that field.

With the way I”d been performing, Coach wasn’t going to be giving me any minutes of play unless some sort of natural disaster removed Kelly from this world.

I snorted at that thought, watching the other quarterback”s long, strides ahead of me. Even with all the gear on, you could see the muscle, mobility and strength. Somehow, I didn”t think he was about to go anywhere.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I kept my head down as I went to the shower. There were enough people there that I didn”t have to engage. Instead, I kept my head under the spray and tried to let it all wash off of me.

You”re still here, I reminded myself. You still made it, even if you don”t play.

But that wasn”t fucking good enough.

I managed to pull myself together long enough to get dressed and chat with some of the guys. I pretended I was more upbeat than I was feeling. I didn”t think I seemed too salty, or they wouldn”t have bothered talking to me.

It wasn”t until I got to my small apartment across town that I could finally be myself again. The place was small and truthfully, not that nice. I didn’t have an eye for decorating to begin with and the building was old, dusty and creaky to begin with so the odds of making it look nice were already stacked against me.

Still, I appreciated having my own space filled with my own things after living in my family home again after college.

I sank into the couch, shoulders slumped, and stared into space for a while. Training had been too draining to do much other than unwinding at home and going to sleep. I had barely seen any of Austin since arriving in the city.

Eventually, I stretched back on the couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table before deciding to put on the sports channel and seeing what they were saying.

That immediately proved to be a bad idea, because they were covering the upcoming games.

I froze solid as my teammates’ faces lit up the TV screen.

“In only their second year as an official team of the NFL, the Austin Troopers surprised everyone last year by making it to the conference championships before the Copperheads took them out. Still, they seemed to come out of nowhere, building momentum and gaining fans worldwide as the underdogs. No one expected such a new team to make it so far.”

As the host of the What to Expect This Season special spoke, images flashed over the screen. Our home stadium, called ATEX, in Austin, Texas which had only been completed just over two years ago, images of the team training, moments from games they”d had so far, the gold gleaming on their otherwise white uniforms. Their mascot—a dog in a gold and white police uniform—dancing in the aisles. I found myself smiling softly. I loved the energy of a football game. There was something special about how passionate the fans were. When they had a team, it really was theirs. It was nearly as important to the people as it was to the players.

“This can be credited to the careful curation of the team and players by team owner and mogul, Antonio Vasquez, who was out for blood during the selection. Getting some absolute superstars such as kicker, Ryeland Lenhart, and starting quarterback, Addison Kelly?—”

The moment Addison”s face showed on the screen, my hand moved automatically, hitting the power button on the remote and cutting the TV to black.

Addison Kelly”s classically handsome face with that cocky smile turned into my own reflection staring back at me.

I was left staring at the worried look on my face. My normally warm brown skin was drawn and pale, my hair had turned into a mop of shoulder length brown frizz because I hadn’t been styling it after showers, and my lip was swollen from biting it.

Three months ago, I”d been given my first chance on an NFL team. I”d been in training camp for a month now.

My dream had come true. I was in the NFL. I was supposed to be happy.

“This is a good thing,” I reminded myself.

But my brain did not seem to agree. I was stressed as hell, more frustrated than I”d ever been and there was one person to blame.

Addison Kelly.

The man acted nice to my face, but there was a reason he looked so cocky. It was because he was that good.

Weeks spent running drills at his side had done nothing but expose every shortcoming I had and drain me of every small bit of confidence that being good in high school and college had given me.

Only one thing was fueling me now. My papa had been to nearly every one of my games since I was a kid and I didn”t want to let the man down. Not now that he was gone.

I swallowed, pushed to my feet, and began to pace my small apartment.

I”d arrived at training camp filled with so much excitement it had been ready to burst from my skin. But now, as camp was ending and our first game of the season was swiftly approaching, I felt different.

Addison Kelly was too good.

There was that repeated thought again.

I didn”t like to make anyone worry, but I couldn”t hold off any longer. I gave in and called my mom.

She answered on the second ring with an excited, “Hey baby! You finally called your mother!”

I groaned, but I was immediately smiling.

“You know I call you daily.”

“You didn”t call yesterday,” she argued.

I laughed.

“Okay, okay, not daily. But I try.”

“I know, sweetheart. How”s it going there? You training hard?”

“Not hard enough.”

“I don”t believe that for a second.”

I chewed my lip subconsciously because I didn”t know what else to say.

“What is it, baby?” she asked. “Did something happen?”

I swallowed down the instant emotion that her concerned voice drew out of me.

“I”m just worried,” I said softly.

“About what?”

“About playing in a couple weeks.” Then I laughed. “More like, how I won’t get to.”

“Well, you know you”re the backup,” she reminded me lightly. “No way you”re just figuring this out now.”

I sighed.

“Yeah, I know mama, I”m just not doing too well. I thought I”d kill it out here.”

“Callum,” she chastised. “The season hasn”t even started! Give it a chance!”

“I know, I know...”

“There”s no need to feel insecure. You”re not used to being around the real pros. You”re used to being the best, but now you”re surrounded by them. All that means is you”re going to have to up your game.”

I nodded, her words resonating with me.

“You”re right,” I agreed.

“Okay, pull it together now. Don”t get stuck in your head right before your first pro game.”

“Is that Cal?”

My little sister Aliya”s voice carried through the line.

“Yes, but we”re talking,” my mom told her. “Wait your turn.”

“Wait, put Aliya on,” I said, and my mom grumbled while she handed over the phone.

“Hey princess, what”s up?” I asked.

“The usual drama,” she began, falling immediately into the ups and downs of middle school society.

As usual she had a way of getting my mind off of everything and by the time she was done explaining how her friends-friend sat next to the boy she liked at lunch, knowing full well that she liked him, I was shaking my head, my heart light again.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Beat her at the talent show,” she informed me firmly.

I chuckled.

“I bet you will.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, you excited for Jacksonville?” she finally asked.

I shrugged.

“Kind of,” I admitted. I”d only been to Florida as a kid once.

“I would be nervous if I was you,” she said and immediately I felt it.

“Listen, I should go,” I said. “I need to get some food in me.”

“Alright, bye, Cally.”

We hung up and I ended up sitting there for a minute letting my mother’s words ground me.

I should have asked to talk to my dad before hanging up. His relaxed way always calmed me down. In that way, he was a lot like his father had been. God, I missed my Papa.

If I shut my eyes, I could still hear his voice telling me ‘Keep your chin up. Get in there and show them what you got.”

“I will,” I promised aloud, but doubt pooled in my stomach.