Page 111 of Scored

Coach Tilson’s raised voice brought me back to the present.

“We can win,” he said. “Do you want that?”

“Yes, Coach,” came out in a loud testosterone-filled roar.

Tilson cracked a smile. “I heard that.”

On my way home, my phone rang. Mom appeared on the dashboard screen. “Hey, Mom.”

“Fin, when are you leaving for LA?”

“Tomorrow. How about you and Dad?”

“We’re flying on the Coopers’ charter Sunday. I’m just amazed. The Coopers’ personnel arranged our hotel rooms. Zane and Ashley are in the same hotel. I don’t know how involved Vee has been in these plans, but the Coopers have transportation for all the families to and from the airport and to and from the game.”

I grinned at her excitement.

“We’re going to enter the stadium through special gates. And the Coopers even have excursion options throughout the week. Except on Tuesday. Does that mean we’ll see you and Vee on Tuesday?”

“Me, yes. I doubt we’ll see Vee. Her schedule is horrible.” I laughed. “She’s going to spend the week wining and dining potential new sponsors and big donors. She was talking about it as she organized her shoes for all the different events. I bet when this is all over, she’ll be wearing flats for a month.”

“Poor Vee,” Mom said.

“She’s excited, Mom. This is her dream and it was her dad’s. It’s all a little overwhelming.”

“I’m sure she’ll charm every one of those people.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “Please tell her how excited we are and whether she had anything to do with it or not, we are thankful for all the Coopers have done.”

“I will.”

“See you Tuesday.”

“Tuesday.” I hit the red icon on the screen as I pulled into the grocery store parking lot.

Twenty minutes later, I had all the ingredients for our private night in our bubble. The eye of the storm. Snow flurries filled the night air as I drove to our place. Once inside, I put together the ingredients for baked feta and filled a pot with water for the pasta.

Looking around, I had the fireplace going and soft jazz music playing through the speakers. I checked my phone again, hoping for a message from Vee. My cheeks rose at the sight of her name. I clicked on her text message.

“AUNT RACHEL AND I WERE ASKED TO HAVE ONE DRINK WITH THE PEOPLE FROM NIKE. I’M AT THE BAR DOWNSTAIRS AND PLAN TO BREAK FREE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. DON’T GIVE UP ON ME.”

I texted back.

“NEVER GIVING UP.”

Back in our bedroom, I began pulling clothes from the closet and dresser to take to LA. I spent one season living in that city. It was horrible. Not the city and not the LA football facilities—two NFL teams share SoFi Stadium, the LA Chargers and the Rams. I was on the Rams. I didn’t say I played for them because I didn’t. Not once the whole season.

When Jackson negotiated my contract with Lexington, he included performance incentives, for on-field benchmarks like passing yards and time on the field. Those were classified as ‘likely to be earned’ or ‘not likely to be earned.’

In my mind, I was in the second category.

Recently, at a meeting with Jackson and me, he told me I’d earned out on all the stipulations. When he told me, my first thought was what I said up on that victory platform. Signing with the Coopers changed my life.

The dark days in LA felt as if I was drowning in quicksand. I was ready to hang up my cleats. Now, I wanted to spend my forever with Vee and the Coopers.

“Hey,” Vee’s voice came from the front door.