Blitzed(67)

The huddle breaks, and I look over at the scout team, a combination of third stringers and scout team players who are getting reps in. Still, they're pros, and I'm in the middle of a defense that doesn't know me or trust me yet. I need to make an impression and fast. When the quarterback gets under center, I call an audible.

I see the line readjust. At least they remember one of my hot words, and as soon as the ball snaps, I loop around, me and the outside linebacker coming on an X-pattern stunt. He cuts in to blitz inside while I fade to the flat he was covering, where I see the running back drifting over for the swing pass. Our opponents this week love this so-called 'West Coast' offense, and I nail the guy just as his hands pull in the pass, dropping him for a four-yard loss. "Glad to be here."

Practice continues, and by the end, I see confidence and wary acceptance by my new teammates as Coach cuts practice a little early. We're still on a bye week, after all, and we have plenty of time to start preparing for our next game.

I'm back in the locker room when my cellphone rings, and I look, my heart stopping when I see Whitney's caller ID. "Hello. Whitney?"

"Troy. Please don't send flowers. In fact, don't send anything. Please don't make this more painful than it is already."

I sag onto the seat in front of my locker, trying to contain myself. "Whitney, don't cut me off. I lo—"

The phone goes dead in my ear, and I’m tempted to try and see if my phone can break via hurling it into the concrete wall at the back of my locker, but I restrain myself when Coach comes by my locker. "Great practice out there, Troy. Defensive meeting in twenty minutes."

"Yeah . . . thanks, Coach," I rasp, trying not to lose my composure. "I'll be there."

He gives me a questioning look, and I wave it off. "Personal stuff, that's all. I'll be there."

Coach nods. "Okay. If you need to talk to anyone, my door's open. Twenty minutes."

He leaves, and I think. I need to talk to someone, and I turn to an old friend. Hitting my speed dial, I hope she's available. "Hello?"

"Dani, it's Troy. Got a minute?"

"For my second favorite guy in the world? Yes, I do," Dani says, and my mood lifts just slightly. "How's J-ville?"

"Warm and sunny," I reply. "You'd love it here."

"Well, you get me tickets sometime, and me and Pete will be there. How's things on the professional front?"

"Good, but that's not why I'm calling. You're like a shrink, right?"

"Not quite, but I have been accused of being a decent listener," Dani says. "Things not going well?"

"Whit just hung up on me. I sent her some flowers, and I guess the florist just got them delivered. She—she sounded so cold. I need some advice."

Dani's silent on the other end for nearly a minute, then she sighs. "You two . . . I swear, the only reason you two have had any chance at all in your relationship is because I've been around to play buffer between all of your screw-ups. First, her worries about you playing her before you two even date, then covering for that trip to the woods that ends up producing Laurie, being a friend to you both . . . I should be getting paid for this!"

"You want my paycheck, just ask," I miserably reply, resting my head in my free hand. "Take it all. It's nothing compared to Whitney and Laurie."

"And I don't have five years to bring you guys slowly back together," Dani says. "There's a little girl who needs her daddy. Okay, Troy, I'm not going to make any promises to you, but I'll talk to her. But you have to be able to accept that the answer might not be what you want.”

"I can't do that. I won’t do that.”

"You may have to. In the short term, however, harness your feelings. I remember the game when Whitney left us. You put it on that field, and even if she didn't see it, you wrote a love song in sweat, blood and touchdowns. It helped you survive the darkest days right afterward too. Do it again. Do it again, and I'll see what I can do."

"Emotional content," I sigh, and I hear Dani chuckle. We've talked. She knows what I'm talking about and doesn’t think I’m losing my mind.

"Emotional content. Keep your head up, Troy. I'm looking forward to seeing you play next Sunday. Pete's even bought Sunday tickets for it, so you better do good or else we just pissed away a hundred bucks."

"Send me the bill."

"Nah," Dani says, forcing a smile in her voice. "You pay me back by being the Troy Wood that I love and call my friend."

"Five minutes, defense!" a voice behind me calls, and I run my hand through my hair.

"Sorry, that's my signal. Gotta go back to work. Dani, thanks."





Chapter 25





Whitney





It feels strange, I think, as I pull into my parking slot in front of the gallery. It's been a month since Troy left, but every day, I wake up and the first thing on my mind is wondering if he’s doing well. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to pull my hand back from calling him, and I've even thought of getting a new phone and number, one that doesn't have his number programmed into it. I just can’t muster the courage to do that or to press the delete button.