Brandon

Practice sucks today. I ache everywhere from all the gym and swimming sessions coach has been making us do. Plus I upped my weights and can now feel the soreness in my muscles.

"Half an hour of throwing and catching," Coach yells out. Seriously? My arms already feel like they're going to fall out of my sockets. Denver runs towards me.

"Shit, man. If he carries on running us into the ground like this, we're going to be spanked by the weekend."

"I know, right?"

"Maybe I'll have a word with him. We're all exhausted, and it is only Monday evening. On Saturday we play; we need some downtime."

I nod my head; of course we do. Only to be the best, you've got to keep on going. There is no time to be half-hearted about this. Besides, I want to make it to the NFL, and I also have to choose which team I want to go with. I'm thinking I'd like to stay here in Cali; it's my home, but you gotta go where the best deal is. For now, though, I've got a whole half hour of catching and throwing to do, followed by some sprints, and then we can head off to have our showers and get the hell off the field.

I'd love to be going out tonight, but with the mountain of work I've got from school, there is no way I can risk missing handing in an assignment. I only just got one done this morning in my free session, and I am hoping it won't get picked up as being mostly AI-generated.

"What are you two talking about like grandmas? Get to it." Coach yells at us. I glare at him, wanting to take my helmet off and throw it in his face.

"That was shit, man. Worst practice ever," James says. He plays one of the wings on defense and joined us six months ago. His folks moved from Texas with his dad's job, and now he attends our school. He's good and has a bright future too.

"Heard you're being scouted, Brandon, by the New York Giants and the Dallas Cowboys. That must feel good." I nod as I strip off my top revealing a taut and toned stomach. Years of hard work have been paying off. There isn't an ounce of fat on this body; it's shredded, and the high-protein diet I follow only allows me pizza once a week.

"Yeah, for sure. It's good. I'd rather be staying here in Cali though. You know near my folks." I don't say that it's also close to Lizzie. "Long way to go though, I've got to get through college first, but yeah they've been nosing around." My folks are made up with it. They can't wait for their son to play in the NFL.

"You guys want to come over for some beers later?" He asks. I shake my head.

"Too much stuff to do for class tomorrow."

"We're off limits until after the game this weekend," Denver adds as he strips his pants off to reveal some loud red boxer shorts. His toned legs are like tree trunks.

"Suit yourselves. The cheerleaders will be there."

"Definitely count me out," Denver says. He's so into Lilly that it's kind of making me jealous. In an ideal world, I'd be with Lizzie, and we'd be doing all that cozy shit together. Well, actually we already do just without the benefits. I'd love to hold her in my arms and kiss her and feel those lips on mine. I want to tell her exactly how I feel about her, only it's useless.

"Nah, I can't be bothered either. They just fawn all over us and treat us like objects, then tell all their classmates about who they slept with, and it hits social like wildfire."

"You bored of getting laid?" James asks. I can tell by the tone of his voice he thinks I've lost the plot. In all honesty, I am wondering if I've totally lost it. Which eighteen-year-old horny guy doesn't want to get his rocks off on a Monday night or any other night that ends with a y? Not this one. My head is too fucked up with thoughts of Lizzie, and I kinda feel that I'd be cheating on her. See, I told you this was so fucked up.

"I didn't say that, but the whole thing gets on my nerves," I tell him and grab my towel and head to the showers.

"You need a steady girl, Brandon," Denver says.

"I don't date, you know that. They get all clingy, and besides, I haven't got time for that shit. You're lucky with Lilly. She gets that football is your life and is going your way when you head off to college. A lot of girls aren't like that. They'll make me choose between football and them. I don't have time to have my head fucked around like that nor to let my heart get the better of me. Fuck that shit. It ain't never going to happen. I'm off to college, keeping my head down to get my degree and play football. I want to be the best." My tone is direct.

"Nah, you're just scared of commitment," Denver says as he gets into the shower stall next to me. What I like about our facilities is that they're state-of-the-art and we each get our own stall, no more showering with all the guys.

"Don't be such a jerk. I'm not scared of commitment, I just don't want all that shit. You and Lilly are different." I let the warm water sluice all over my body, squeeze some of my Adidas shower gel into my hands, and begin to wash. It smells zingy of lemons. Lizzie says she loves the smell of it so I lather it on. Yes, just for her.

"There may be someone in any case." WTF? Why did I go and say that? It's dumb.

"Fuck, yeah. Who?" Denver asks.

"You gotta a girl in the wings?" James asks. Now I wish I had never said anything. This is how bad it would be. Now they're just going to pester the shit out of me.

"No. I haven't got a girl, but I may be keen on one."

"Holy fuck. Who?" Denver and James both ask together.

"None of your damn business. Besides, it's complicated. Seriously complicated."

"What, like, does she already have a guy? Because you know that goes against the brother code, right?" Denver's voice has taken a serious tone.

"Don't be such a prick. Of course she hasn't got a guy. Just drop it. It doesn't matter. It ain't never gonna happen, and I'm way too focused to be spending half my time with a bit of pussy."

The guys laugh. They know me too well.

"I'm going to get it out of you for sure," Denver says full of confidence. As I get out of the shower, I wrap my white towel around my waist and slip into my Nike flip-flops and bang on his stall door.

"I don't think so, big guy. There's nothing to tell. Let's hustle. You over to Lilly's to study?"

"Sure am. Can't wait to see my little darlin'." My stomach does some weird shit, and my heart constricts. This is exactly what I'm talking about. I want Lizzie to call me my little darlin'.

Maybe I'll tell her how I feel at prom.

Or maybe I won't.

Can I risk losing her as my best friend?

Anxiety floods me to the core.

My need to tell her is strong.

The strongest thing I have ever felt.

More than playing in the NFL.