Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

TATE

I can’t believe it. I fucking missed the catch, the third one in a row. I shake my head and run back to position, trying to ignore the crippling fear leaching into my stomach. It’s because I’ve missed practice a couple of times– because of unforeseen events and distractions like fucking allergic reactions and firebombs and fake engagements.

And incredible, hot, amazingly good sex.

‘And again,’ yells Coach. We run the drill for a fourth time and I’m racing down the field, my legs pumping like pistons. I dodge two players and I’m heading towards the end zone. It’s the perfect play, all I have to do is make the catch.

Fuck.

I fumble it again.

‘Man, what is wrong with you?’ asks Blake when Coach blows the whistle and calls me over.

‘Time out, Donaghue.’ Coach glares at me. He won’t bawl me out, it’s not his style, but I will get the ‘I’m-disappointed’ silent treatment for a while. Not that I blame him. I’ve been shit all afternoon. My teammates are giving me unsubtle frowns, and I can tell my missteps are affecting them. I hunch over my knees avoiding eye contact with anyone. I’m so pissed at myself.

One of Tierney’s goons is sitting in the seats, clearly bored out of his mind. Apparently, he’s more of a baseball man, a pertinent reminder that perhaps there is more to life than ball. Which then makes me think of Lily. I’ve really fucked up there. I shouldn’t have left without talking to her. I should have made her understand why I had to leave. Walking out made it seem as if I couldn’t give a shit what she thought. I’m a selfish bastard. I was only thinking of what I wanted, and she deserves better. A lot better. How do I apologise, when I know I’d still make the same decision and leave her? There’s no room in my life for her. I need to suck it up and get my head back in the game.

Blake flops down beside me, his helmet dangling from his hand, and his shoulder pads brush against mine.

‘What’s going on, Donaghue?’

I shrug.

‘And where the hell have you been?’ He clutches his chest. ‘You ghosting me?’

I laugh at his melodramatic tone.

‘Lost my phone.’ And because Blake is my best friend I add, ‘In a bayou.’

Suddenly, it’s a relief to be able to talk to someone about the whole ordeal of going into the water in the car. I’ve been blocking it from my mind. Winston doesn’t want anyone to know but I need to talk about it.

‘What the hell were you doing in a bayou?’

I wince and look around to check no one is listening.

‘Lily and me, we had a mishap.’

I tell him what happened.

‘Fuck, Tate. That’s not a mishap, it’s a nightmare. You coulda died.’

‘Thanks, Sherlock, that didn’t cross my mind.’

He reaches across and pats my thigh. ‘Sorry, man. That’s serious shit. How are you feeling?’

I shrug again.

‘Good job you had Lily there,’ he says, and something loosens inside me.

‘Yeah, it was,’ I say, before adding in a heartfelt voice, ‘fuck, Blake, she knew exactly what to do.’ I look at him. ‘She saved my life, twice over, because when we got out of the car, she had us swim into the trees. Whoever it was started shooting at the car when a big air bubble broke the surface.’

‘Fucking hell, Tate.’ He stares at me with horror on his face. ‘You’re kidding… No, you’re not, are you? That’s insane.’

‘It’d have been a hell of a lot more terrifying without Lily.’ I pause and emotion bubbles up. It’s more than gratitude, it’s something much bigger and deeper. ‘She’s amazing.’

Blake gives me a shrewd look but doesn’t say anything. He keeps watching me, like he knows I’m here for the full confessional.

‘I think I’ve fucked up.’

He nods. I stall for a minute and I’m grateful when he prompts, ‘What did you do?’

I give him the PG-rated version of events and Blake listens without a single comment.

It’s only when I tell him that I left without leaving a note, that he speaks.

‘You asshole. But I can tell you exactly why you did that.’ He’s pleased with himself, but I’m not going to let him beat me to the punch because I’ve finally pieced it together for myself. Even though it’s all a bit hopeless, I feel a burst of elation as I finally admit the truth.

‘Because I’m in love with her.’

‘That right there. And you ran scared.’

‘I ran because of this,’ I wave my hand around. ‘I can’t afford the distraction. You know what I was like when you first knew me.’

Blake stares at me as if I’m talking gibberish.

‘Yeah. Heartbroken.’

‘Exactly. I very nearly threw my football career away, letting myself get distracted, took my eye off the ball, lost my focus.’ I repeat the phrases that are my mantra, hearing my dad’s voice as he said them.

‘Man.’ Blake shakes his head and crosses his legs, leaning back, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I can’t afford to let it happen again.’

‘Bullshit!’ He punches me in the arm. ‘You need to get your head out of your dumb ass. Did your game suffer when you were with Lily in college? Were you or were you not scouted at the college championship game?’

I frown at him. ‘No. Yes, but?—’

‘But nothing. When you were with Lily, you were on your game. I didn’t know you then, but I knew you after, and you took the split hard. Everybody knew you were in love with her.’

‘I was, but Dad?—’

‘Your dad is… is a solid guy, but no disrespect, he’s got the emotional intelligence of a dead rat.’

Now it’s my turn to stare at Blake. ‘What?’

‘Tate. He’s… obsessed. With football. Why do you think Coach banned him from watching practice games?’

‘Because he got a bit overwrought,’ I start to explain. ‘He wants to be involved.’

‘Yeah… he wants to be involved.’

I frown.

‘It’s all about him. I get it, he’s proud of you. My mum and dad are proud of me, but if it all fell apart tomorrow, they’d still be proud of me. All they want is for me to be happy.’

We’re both silent while I digest the words. ‘Dad’s… Dad. He’s…’

Sound blurs out for a minute, the action on the field receding into the background. All I can hear is Dad:

‘Fuck’s sake, Tate, what was that pass in the third quarter?’

‘Good game, but I think you coulda taken that all the way.’

‘Losing is for losers. You don’t want to be a loser.’

I try to think of the times he’s been happy about a result without having some criticism, some negativity to counter it. There’s always been a sting in the tail.

‘Great win today . Think you can repeat that play? Let’s hope it’s not a fluke?’

‘I told you if you got your lazy ass to train harder, you’d win this game.’

‘If it weren’t for me, son, you wouldn’t have any of this.’

Lily tried to point it out but I didn’t listen. She’s right, my relationship with my father is conditional. His approval is based on my performance. My achievements are always thanks to him. Not my own hard work or my talent.

‘Does Lily make you happy?’ asks Blake very quietly.

I think it’s the seriousness of his intonation that gets to me. It’s such a direct, devastating question, stripping back everything.

There’s only one answer. I think of the thousands of ways she makes me smile, the way she can turn me inside out, how I feel as alive with her as I do when I make a great play.

I feel stupidly wobbly, but I owe him the answer. I need to say the words out loud to reinforce them, prove that they’re real in the outside world.

‘Yes, she does.’

‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

I sink my head into my hands again, ruffling my helmet-flattened hair.

‘I don’t think an apology is going to cut it.’

Blake shakes his head. ‘Fool me once, fool me twice. You’ve struck out there.’

‘You’re not helping.’

Blake laughs, the sod. ‘It’s kind of cute seeing you felled for a change,’ he says, then sobers for a second. ‘Although I’m not sure how you’re going to explain it to Coach.’

Out on the pitch, Coach is beckoning us over.

We run out onto the field to join our teammates and join in the catching drills. For some reason my legs feel lighter, and when the ball comes flying towards me, sweet as a peach, I snatch it out of the air, grinning at Blake and make the twenty-yard run to touchdown.

‘Thank fuck, you’ve finally got your head in the game,’ he says, when Coach blows the whistle an hour later to signal the end of practice. ‘I was worried for a while that you’d lost it.’

‘Oh no. I know exactly what I’m doing,’ I say because as soon as I get back to the hotel I’m going to talk to Lily. Tell her I messed up. Tell her I love her.

* * *

We leave the college ball-stadium where we’ve been playing and head out to the bus. Suddenly the three security guys grab someone who’s approaching.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ yells a familiar, angry voice. ‘I’m Frank Donaghue. The Don’s father.’

‘It’s okay, guys.’ I nod at them.

They release Dad and he brushes down his shirt. ‘What the… And where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you and texting you. No one at the hotel knew where you were.’

‘Sorry, Dad. I lost my phone. There was an incident.’

‘Get a new one and fast. How did practice go today? You feeling confident? You need to keep your focus for the next few days. I know you gotta to do a lot of the monkey-suit crap, but make sure you eat properly and don’t stay out late.’ He claps me on the back. ‘Hell, son, it’s like you’re twenty-one again and I’m having to make sure you’re not sneaking beers behind my back. What you doin’ for the rest of the evening?’

I roll my shoulders. ‘Getting a massage. And I’ve got an official dinner thing tonight with the sponsors. Attendance is non-negotiable.’ I wince, because I’m going to have to spend it with Lily and, despite my fighting talk earlier, what are the chances she’s going to accept my apology. Her expression in that meeting with Winston could have frozen hell several times over.

The thought settles like a heavy lump in my stomach.

‘Gotta keep those sponsors happy, they’re your paycheck.’

‘How’s your hotel?’ I ask, wanting to change the subject, but I immediately realise it’s a lame attempt to please him.

‘Fine. Would have been better if it was where you and the rest of the team are staying.’

‘I can change the reservation,’ I offer.

‘No,’ he gives me a smirk. ‘I haven’t drunk the minibar dry yet.’

‘You do realise it’s cheaper to drink in the hotel bar,’ I tell him.

‘Son, you’d begrudge your dad a drink?’

‘No, not at all,’ I tell him and I don’t. I earn enough for him to drink every mini bar dry in the whole of the United States if he wanted. I always pay for his flights and accommodation wherever we’re playing. It’s the least I can do after all he’s done for me, although Blake’s comments, which echo Lily’s, are lodged firmly in my brain.

‘Why don’t you go back with the team and then I’ll come over and we can talk game-plan? You can tell me what Coach is thinking.’

‘Sure.’

But for the first time ever, I wonder what else Dad has in his life during the season and in between my games. I wonder if he’s happy.