f o r t y s e v e n

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I leave our walkthrough feeling good

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I leave our walkthrough feeling good. I've spent the last week watching Penn's film. I've memorized their plays and players' weak spots. All while fine tuning our own team's to the point that I could run every route in my sleep. And I haven't slept much because of it. It doesn't matter though. I finally feel like I'm back. I feel more like myself than I have in a while. Moving my knee has felt so good that even Dr. Kramer said he can't believe how well I've bounced back. He admitted that at the start of the season he wasn't confident in my recovery or that I would play at all this season.

I head home to pack up my things to take to the hotel with me. The team stays together at the one on campus, right across from the stadium, the night before every home game. Just like only active players get to travel, this will be my first time getting to stay with the team in the hotel this season instead of being forced to go home after dinner.

When you're not dressing out for the games you might as well not be on the team. You're only invited to the most necessary rituals and excluded from all others. Coach blames the university and football program for not wanting to fund things like hotel rooms or travel expenses for players who aren't actually playing. I guess it makes sense. If they approved everyone their budget would need to double from the amount of players who sit on the injured or red shirt list every game. Regardless, I'm back and it feels so good. I might go stand on the roof of the hotel and yell it before going to bed tonight, just to let everyone else hear it in my voice. Even then, I don't think anyone would feel a fraction of the excitement I'm feeling.

Just as I'm about to walk out the door, my mom calls me. She cries again when I tell her what I'm doing, just like she cried when I told her that I would finally see the field tomorrow. My heart broke at the realization that she won't be here to see it, but she promises me that they've already got the DVR set to record the game. They can watch it in real time, but also play it back with me the next time I'm home. Part of me just assumed that once I got to this point in the season, that when she got to this point in her treatment, that she would be able to travel. I don't even ask though, I can't. I need her to focus on getting better. Soon she'll be at all of my games again.

We continue to talk, catching up on other things. Like her treatments and how she's feeling. Her body language through FaceTime doesn't match her insistence that she's great. She also doesn't let me ask any follow up questions before she dives into Nora's season, and my midterms. My midterm grades, to my surprise, didn't suck. I shush my mom as she teases me about my good luck charm, whom she thinks is Camryn.

"Good things started happening when you met her," She says. My comeback has always been the same each time she turns to the list of good things she's compiled. Just because I've gotten a few good grades and had a successful rehab doesn't constitute a good luck charm. My mom doesn't push it further, just changes the subject, which I guess I should be thankful for.

We hang up just as I reach my destination. I tell my mom I love her, before gripping the cold metal handle and pushing through the door. A doorbell sounds from somewhere in the room. I'm quickly greeted by an overjoyed group of women ranging from their twenties to middle aged. The owner, Pam, quickly rushes over to shake my hand. "Taylor Reed!"she cries. "What do we owe this pleasure today! Shouldn't you be getting ready for the bonfire?" she questions.

It always surprises me the way people in this city keep up with our team's agenda as if it's an extension of their personal lives. I let her take my hand, squeezing hers gently as I say, "Yes ma'am, but I need something from you first." She takes my hand again, but I can't tell if it's to have an excuse to hold mine, or because my voice broke as those words came out.

🏈🏈🏈

I dropped my things off at the hotel before making my way down to the shuttle that's waiting and ready to take players to the old practice field that has now become the home of the annual Homecoming Bonfire. This tradition alone almost sealed me on coming to this school. During my first visit, the parade was bigger than anything I had ever seen before. Through each float bleeding with school spirit it was a direct reflection on just what the football program means to the school and its fans. Coupled with the low hum as the band starts to play. It's a ripple you feel deep inside your bones, the feeling slowly creeps through the rest of your body as they grow closer and closer to the final destination. Every float, participant, and fan end their trail at the old practice field for the bonfire. It was the first time I saw Coach give a speech in person. It was the first time I heard him live announce his hopes for the game, and remainder of the season, but not before he pledged his allegiance to his team and the school. His dedication to not just the program, but this city is what drove me here. I wanted to be a part of the tradition and to set my own legacy here. I still have no idea why there is a Homecoming court in college, but it's a part of football and this tradition so I go along with it anyway.

As I step onto the shuttle I greet the driver but otherwise keep to myself. I don't bother taking out my earphones or dropping the hood of my sweatshirt. I turn the volume up and allow myself to get lost in the words. The nerves have already started. It's normal for me though. I feel them until the second that I step onto the field. It's like my body is anticipating what is going to happen, but the second the whistle blows it all melts away and the only thing left is my focus.

It's not just me though, most of the guys sharing the felted red seats around me are locked in. Headphones on, music turned up loud enough to drown out the next guy's. After a short ride, the bus stops with a smooth jerk and we file out and are quickly ushered onto the old field. The bleachers are already crowded with fans decked out in red and gray. Many of which will be back in this spot when the sun is rising tomorrow to tailgate as the sun comes up.

The fire pit rests in the center of the field. It won't be lit until Coach finishes his speech, and lights it himself with the sacred Bulldog firestarter. I scan the field to see Coach already waiting near the center, close to the podium. He's greeting fans as members of the media are already eagerly snapping pictures. I spot his wife close to his side, but Cal and Camryn are nowhere around. I wonder if he likes it that way, or if his kids just choose to keep their distance. I know that's the case for Camryn at least.

Me and the other players make our way to the left of the pit where we stand and talk. We have thirty minutes or so to kill until the band leads the rest of the parade here and finishes their set with the fight song. Many of the player's family members come down to the field to join them, which is another tradition. It's customary for families to stand united with their player. But for me, it's just another reminder that mine aren't here and won't be tomorrow.

The last shuttle arrives with the rest of the active players. A crowd of girls quickly follow them like groupies. I watch with hands deep in the pocket of my sweatshirt as girlfriends flood around their player's, posing for picture after picture. Most stop after each one to make sure they like it, before rearranging and taking another. It's never once crossed my mind to invite Sadie here. To be honest, I haven't seen her in weeks. I've stopped responding to her texts ever since I've started spending so much time with Camryn. Not that Camryn is filling the void of what Sadie offered me. I won't let her. I can't let her be that to me. Not while I'm still hiding so much from her.

As if simply thinking her name can make her appear, I see her walking through the crowd towards me. Her curls are pulled back with a clip and her camera strap is fixed around her neck. I bite back a laugh when I see the shirt underneath her leather jacket. It's red, but has no affiliation with State or football. It's a point that I'm sure she would pride herself on if I brought it up. She smiles at me, and I can't help to mirror her expression. I exhale and am flooded with relief as she makes her way to me. She stops when we're toe to toe, our bodies inches apart. She tilts her head up to look at me. Her eyes narrow when she does. I let mine flicker to her lips that are pressed firmly together. She's waiting for me to speak first. I knew this was coming, but I thought I could go a little bit longer without having to explain myself. I should have known, at least with Camryn, that hiding is impossible.

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