After that, it was all streaming lights, sweating, and so thirsty. The words came to life in my head, and I was in a puddle of hugs and happiness and love and music.
A growl moves through my throat, and I drop my head, running harder. How could I be so fucking careless?
Mom would say my prefrontal cortex was not fully developed. The only problem is now the result of that careless behavior is waiting at my apartment for me.
Thirty minutes later, I step off the machine. My legs are pulsing, and I spend a few minutes pulling my heels to my ass as I check my phone.
Mermando
Your daughter is highly intelligent. She is already attempting to say words above her developmental level. “Fu” is a particular favorite. Congratulations.
The message is accompanied by pictures of my pretty little girl sitting in a brand-new high chair, holding a spoon in her hand and smiling at the camera.
Her dark hair is styled in a cute little way with a ponytail on top of her head, and her blue eyes shine like an angel’s. Warmth moves through my chest, and I’m relieved she looks happy.
Leaving her this morning was some unexpected shit.
Knox
Sorry. My mom said I had to start a swear jar. Looks like she was right.
Mermando
Moms are always correct. Cricket doesn’t know what the words mean, but she understands context. She’s well on her way to a cum laude in swearing.
I can’t tell if this guy’s fucking with me or being serious.
Knox
I’ll do better. See you in a few hours.
I shove my phone into the locker and head out to the field for drills.
Etienne does the snap, and Brady is doing a better job keeping pressure on me. We all acknowledge it’s my weakness.
The coaches drill the offense on protecting me better, creating a pocket, but if they can’t get it done, I’ve got to be able to decide quicker. I can practically hear Melody saying these words to me. She’s in my head.
I think about seeing her again, and Brady slams his hands on the tops of my shoulder pads. “Head in the game, K-Brad! You just got sacked.”
It takes all my will power not to shove him. This asshole has no idea how little sleep I’m operating on right now.
“Right,” I growl, shaking off his wakeup call.
For the rest of scrimmage, I focus on completing passes,gaining yardage, and yes, taking the checkdown. After three hours, we call it a day.
I’m frustrated Brady made it to me more times than I’d like. “I can’t be off my game so fast. We just handed Texas their asses.”
“You’ll get it back.” Kyler is as encouraging as always. “You’ll be ready for Sunday.”
“I only have a few days left.”
I make quick work showering and changing back into my dry clothes. I’ve deposited my uniform and gear in the bins for steaming and washing.
“I’ve been thinking about your question,” Fonz puts a hand on my shoulder, and gives it a squeeze. “There was a girl. I think her name was Bonnie?”
In a flash, I remember. She was a pretty little brunette with big blue eyes. She danced with her hands over her head and she had a really sweet smile—right before she handed me a tiny white pill.
“Shit.” I nod slowly. “That was her. What happened to her?”