Brandon

I can't believe it's already Monday morning, and so much has happened. The assault on Tammy, Lizzie telling me she wants to give away her virginity, endless gym and practice sessions, no wonder I am whacked out this morning when my alarm goes off at five thirty.

You got it. Hell on earth, it's like still nighttime, man.

We have a gym session again this morning, then a swim session. I'll be done around seven thirty, just enough time to grab some breakfast at the canteen on site at the stadium, which is where we guys go for the gym. Also, we don't get hassled so much there. It's purely for the football players, which means no girls around, all angling for a picture with any of us or to try and get a hookup.

My body aches, literally aches like my legs want to cave in and my arms from all the throwing yesterday and the weights session. I know it should be used to it, but the coach is pushing it so damn hard right now; it's fierce.

I haven't got time to think of Lizzie right now and what is going to happen. I have to accept she only sees me as her best friend and nothing more. Besides, what can I give her if we were boyfriend and girlfriend and all that dating stuff? Exactly. It'd be a long-distance relationship, since summer break is upon us and then we're off to college. I am relieved at least that Denver is attending the same one as me here in Cali. It'll be like having my bro with me. Kind of a shame my folks only had me. Apparently, Mom can't have any more kids; I'm not sure why she hasn't openly discussed it with me. I dare say it hurts and upsets her. I know she adores children since she is always helping out at the local nursery. Any event, and she is straight over there. A couple of afternoons a week, my mom goes to spend time with the kids and reads to them.

She writes children's stories but hasn't done anything with them. Mom says she doesn't want all the stress and hassle of trying to get it published and getting an agent. I guess it can't be easy. I mean, look how hard I have to work to be chosen for NFL and the hours and hours of training and practice. Nothing comes for free in this life, that's for sure, and I know this already since I was a kid with the dream of going pro one day. Denver too. So, going back to mom, she gets more enjoyment from creating the books for the children at the nursery and reading to them. They absolutely adore her. Although I have to confess that I know my father would get her a publishing contract. That man has more connections than a mafia boss, I swear.

Right, I need to sling my sweatpants on and grab a tee. At the moment, I am still lying in my bed, almost groaning because it's so damn early, and I had a crap night's sleep thinking about Lizzie and worrying about my assignment that I never did. The teacher is going to flip when I don't hand it in. Anxiety curses through my body; it's way too early to wake Lizzie up and grab my shit. I suppose I could shimmy up the trellis and grab the stuff I left. I'm hoping she isn't still mad at me and does actually bring it to school. Quickly, I calculate that I could come back for breakfast, grab my stuff from her house and still make it to school. It'll be cutting it fine, but it'd give me the opportunity to get the damn assignment done in my free session at ten.

"You up, Brandon?" Dad shouts out. I've told you already, right? Dad is an early riser, and being a Monday, he'll have a full agenda. I have no idea how his assistant copes with such a manic schedule, all the travel he has to do, and those meetings.

"Getting there," I shout back as I push the duvet off me and swing my legs to the floor. As I pad to the shower, I am yawning so bad that I feel like I could end up with a damn flip-top head, you know where your mouth is open so wide that the top half of your head just floats back.

In my shower room, I brush my teeth and rake my hands through my hair. There is no point in having a shower until after the gym. There's a knock on the door. "Coming in," Dad says.

"Sure, no prob." Dad enters; he's already dressed in his navy suit, crisp white shirt and a burnished orange tie. Nice. Classy. Elegant. Expensive.

"Have a good day at school today, son. I'm out until Wednesday, so take care of your mother for me."

"Cool, will do." He comes over and, as usual, ruffles my hair, even though I am eighteen. It's a thing he's always done since I was a kid. Dad is an open affection man, it's cool with me. I have no issues whatsoever with guys showing their affection.

"You on top of your classwork?" He is now looking me directly in the eyes. I shift from one foot to the other, feeling uncomfortable. Do I lie? Do I tell him the truth? For a start, I really suck at lying, and he is my dad, but I also know he'll be pissed that I haven't done anything about my assignment.

"Most of it. I've got a free session later this morning to finish it off."

"Make sure you do. Gotta get those grades, kid."

"On it." He gives me a man hug and says goodbye.

Fucking school, it sucks. I just want out already.