Clear Eyes, Full Hearts

[ 5 ] : We Ain't Winnin' No Championship

Dillon, TX

Oomph.

A loud grunt escapes my lips as I heave the netted bag of footballs out of the trunk of my dad's SUV. The bag falls to the dusty ground with a thud just as a herd of football players file out of the field house in their practice uniforms. Awesome.

My cheeks flush as I grab the bag and begin dragging it toward the field. Soccer conditioning doesn't exactly prepare you for heavy lifting, so agreeing to help my dad with the equipment was probably not my best plan. The two-a-days start today though and, given that my summer consists of nothing more than sitting around the house all day and watching Saved By the Bell reruns, I offered to help out with personal training at practice. I need the exercise anyways (pretty obvious given my clear lack of upper-body strength) and Coach Taylor did offer to pay me for my time. I can't exactly refuse money, especially when all I have to do to earn it is force these over-sized neanderthals to run a little bit.

"Need any help with that?"

I had hoped that scene I'd just made had gone unnoticed, but much to my disappointment, it hadn't. With a sigh, I drop the bag to my feet again and turn to face a member of my unwanted audience. I squint in the sunlight and almost fail to recognize the familiar face staring back at me. The rest of his team saunters off, but Brian Williams remains, his helmet and pads dangling from his left hand as he stares at me with a humored expression on his face.

I return his smile. "Smash Williams. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," I joke, placing one hand on my hip while the other attempts to shade my eyes.

Brian cocks his head to the side, probably trying to figure out who I am and why I know his old nickname. Then it seems to register and he drops his gear and charges toward me. I brace myself, almost one hundred percent sure that I'll end up tackled to the ground underneath a boy that is nearly double my size, but all he does is lift me into the air, spin me around and place me back on my feet as a rumbling laugh escapes his lips.

"Maddie Braxton. Is that really you?" he asks, staring down at me with the smile still on his face. Now that I can actually see his face fully, I notice that he looks just like he did when my family left Dillon. All tough-guy football player on the outside and big teddy bear on the inside.

"In the flesh," I reply, gesturing to myself with a grin.

"What happened to the glasses and shinguards and the 'just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't beat you up'?" he mimics my voice terribly and I roll my eyes in response just as my dad comes walking over from the field.

"You still can't beat me up, Williams," I mutter and Brian laughs. 

"You got them bags for me, boo?" my dad questions, glancing at the bag of footballs at my feet. "That's a no. Tell you what, Brian, you get the footballs and Maddie, you can get my bag from the front seat. I need to run back inside and get some papers for Coach, so I'll meet you two on the field."

"Yes, sir," Brian replies, jokingly saluting my dad as he turns to leave. He then reaches down and collects his gear and the bag of footballs into his hands without any effort at all. Noticing my expression, he smirks.

I roll my eyes, reach in through the passenger-side window and grab my dad's bag, which only really contains a playbook and a bunch of miscellaneous papers that serve no purpose other than clutter. I throw it over my shoulder and turn to face Brian again. "So, how's the team looking?" I ask as we make our way to the field. The sun blaring down on us and I can feel the sweat starting to form on the back of my neck and the tip of my nose. I can only imagine what it must feel like to be wearing a full uniform right now.