Читать книгу Forget Me Not - Crystal B. Bright - Страница 8

Gideon Wells pressed his phone to his ear in a feeble attempt to drown out the shouts and chants of his teammates in the expansive locker room. The sounds brought him back to the first time he’d run with a football to the goalpost as a kid, trying to balance the big shoulder pads on his feeble frame. Time had changed him and his body, and ramped up his love of the sport.

He couldn’t blame the men for their excitement. The Super Bowl only happened once a year for two teams. Gideon’s Virginia Beach Wolves had made it. He hadn’t stopped smiling since their last game. Every time he’d talked about his upcoming participation in the Super Bowl, his first and, hopefully, not his last time, his skin had felt like he had electric sparks dancing over it. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else but this game.

Then the call from his mother had come a week ago with news that had made him feel like he had been doused in ice-cold water. Gideon’s thoughts had split between his mother and his career, two aspects of his life that gave him purpose.

At the first ring, he paced the red-carpeted floor ringed in a black-and-gold border in honor of his team’s colors. His mother had approved of him going to play for the Wolves, not because the team made Virginia Beach their home and he could still be close to his family, but because they wore her favorite colors. Recalling his mother’s almost regal voice forced him to smile.

Gideon took a deep breath on the third ring. The great thing about being a Super Bowl team had to be the way people catered to them. This locker room in Pasadena, California had been repainted with their colors and had their emblem over each wall. The fresh-paint smell still lingered in their air. Between the paint and the new carpet, the place had a new feel even though the stadium itself had been around for decades.

In his white tights, he didn’t want to think about the confining feeling constricting his legs and waist. The armbands he wore compressed his limbs from his wrists to the middle of his biceps.

The cleats on his shoes sank into the plush carpeting. He wanted to wait before suiting up with the full shoulder pads. He found it necessary to wear knee pads right now. He tugged on the side of one as he lifted his leg. At that point, he heard a click on the other line.

“Hey, Gid! Getting your mind right?”

Gideon smiled when he heard Gunnar answer the phone, until it hit him why his professional-athlete brother had had to stop his career to go back home. As a champion mixed martial artist, Gunnar understood what it took to get prepared. Gunnar had had an MMA championship fight right when their mother had gotten sick. Gideon had this game, this one life-changing, dream-come-true game.

Standing in an area between the chaotic locker room and the shower area, the quietest area there, he leaned against a nearby wall. “The mind is right. Hyped up to play, you know.”

“I know. I get it.” Gunnar kept his voice low and even, as though Gideon had planned on leaping from a plane without a parachute and Gunnar had to talk him out of the act.

The shorthand way of talking about their professions worked for Gideon. The same went for his younger brother, Thane, another professional athlete, who also understood the importance of pregame rituals.

“Congrats on your match. You took your opponent out in, what, ten minutes?” Gideon scratched the back of his head as he imagined his older brother’s serious countenance cracking.

“Seven, but who’s counting.” Gunnar laughed.

The sound brought him back home, back to a time when the two of them used to wrestle until one submitted or they got tired, whichever came first. Only one thing would have truly transported him to his childhood home in Virginia Beach. If he could see his composed mother, not in a hospital, but in her beloved flower shop where he used to help her, he would feel better.

“Good luck today. I’m sure you’re going to kick ass,” Gunnar exclaimed.

“Gunnar Wells.”

Gideon beamed as soon as he heard their mother in the background, the true reason for his call. Her calming voice and soothing nature always centered him. He could never figure out how he and his brothers had gotten so lucky to be adopted by a caring and compassionate woman.

He never saw himself and his African-American mother as being different. He saw himself as being Elizabeth Sommerville’s son. Full flesh and blood. She never treated him or his brothers any differently.

“Sorry, Ma,” Gunnar said to their mother. “Gid, I’m going to hand you over to Mom. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you, bro.” Gideon looked toward the locker-room area. He spotted one of his wide receivers shrugging his shoulders and pointing to his wrist, pantomiming that Gideon would need to hurry up and get ready.

Gideon nodded and turned his back on his teammate to give his full concentration to his mother.

“Darling, how are you doing?” Elizabeth’s words dripped with her trademark grace and elegance.

Gideon couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m fine, Mom, except I have this little thing I’m doing later.” He laughed.

“Cute.” She laughed and then got silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Ah, my baby.” She sighed.

“Thane’s your baby.”

“All of you are my babies. I worry about each and every one of you.” Elizabeth sighed, the sound audible through the phone.

Gideon remembered the nights she’d stay up staring out the living room window during Gunnar’s rebellious phase. She’d kept vigil by Thane’s bed, a particularly sickly child who’d grew out of that as soon as he’d hit puberty and discovered the opposite sex. Gideon had recognized his mother being pulled in different directions and had been determined, even as a snot-nosed kid, to be the least of his mother’s worries.

“I’m more concerned about you. How are you doing?” Elizabeth’s struggles with her health plagued his thoughts.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m doing okay. Gunnar and Eboni are taking great care of me.”

Gideon blinked. “Eboni? Eboni Danielson? Really?” He remembered Gunnar had gotten on that Greyhound bus years ago right after he’d graduated high school, leaving Eboni, his high school sweetheart and professed love of his life, behind to pursue his mixed martial arts fighting dream. “Are they—”

“Together…for now.” The lightness that filled his mother’s voice became heavy by the end of her statement.

At least Gunnar had someone by his side. After this game, Gideon would be rushing back home to take care of his mother. He’d learned from her to put family first.

“I’m glad he’s there for you. Right after the Super Bowl, I’ll come home to be with you all when you have your surgery.”

“Oh, darling, won’t you have press to do and have sponsors to please?”

“Come on. You don’t think I’ll do any of that with you having heart surgery. Hell—”

Queen Elizabeth, as her friends so dubbed her, cleared her throat.

Gideon stood up straighter. He’d forgotten to keep his locker-room talk segregated to his teammates. “Excuse me. I mean, I’m fighting staying here instead of coming home now.”

“Only playing in the Super Bowl has been your dream since I put a football in your tiny hands. Do you remember that?”

Remember it? He still kept that same dirty, deflated, misshapen football in his home. To tease his mother, he said, “I barely remember that thing.”

“Again, you are so cute.” Queen Elizabeth laughed a little but completed the light expression with a slight cough.

An uncomfortable ripple slithered over his gut and up to his heart, where it constricted it from pumping for a hot second. He couldn’t let her feel his worry. He continued smiling to maintain the lightness in his tone.

“Some new magazines came into the salon,” she said with a playful lilt to her tone.

Gideon heard the joy in his mother’s voice. He ran his hand over his head, knowing she would bring up some aspect of his personal life as only the tabloids could capture. “Really? That’s interesting.”

“It sure is.” Elizabeth cleared her throat.

“Whatever you do, don’t say it.” Gideon shook his head.

“Say what?”

“America’s couple.” Gideon bristled at the moniker the media had dubbed his brief relationship with actress Hilary Cox. He paced the floor, waiting for his mother’s next statement.

“I must admit, you and that little blonde actress are cute together. Matching hair, both with blue eyes and great smiles. Bet you don’t mind that I put braces on you when you were younger, huh?”

Gideon laughed, but he recalled those years. Girls hadn’t given him a second look. He’d fought wannabe bullies every day on top of that. He hadn’t needed Gunnar’s help to win his fights back then. Gideon could be accommodating, but couldn’t be called a pushover…well, except when it came to his mother.

“I wish you wouldn’t read that trash. They’re all full of lies.” He moved closer to the shower area to get farther away from the noise.

“It’s the only way I can find out about your private life. You talk to me every day but never share anything about the special women in your life. I’m your mother. You should tell me everything.”

Gideon imagined that his mother stood in front of him, wagging her finger at him with its impeccable manicure and, of course, the nail painted fire-engine red. “Mom, I have to keep some things from you. I’m not a boy anymore.”

Elizabeth made a disapproving noise from her throat. “I know. You and Gunnar are so quick to tell me that.” She paused a moment before barreling on with their conversation. “Will you be bringing Hilary home with you? I would love to meet her.”

Gideon swallowed before he answered. “We broke up.”

His mother gasped. “Oh, sweetie. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you would really care. We weren’t together that long.” Six months equated to a lifelong relationship in celebrity terms. For Gideon, it meant that the woman he’d spent time with wouldn’t be the future Mrs. Gideon Wells or the mother of his children.

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked.

“The separation got to her. She would be off doing movies. I had games and training, plus living in Virginia and not California. It didn’t work.” He turned his back on the group. “Besides, my sucky love life has helped the team. I’m only concentrating on the team and how I play.”

“You could have made it work if she was the right one.”

Gideon knew a hint of truth existed in his mother’s statement. As he thought about it, maybe he hadn’t wanted a relationship with Hilary to work. With her, he’d felt more like an accessory, a great piece to have on her arm for red-carpet events. He’d gotten tired of hearing what a striking couple they made. Thinking about that label now had Gideon gritting his teeth.

“Honestly, that’s not what I was going to ask you about.” Elizabeth lowered her voice.

Gideon shook his head. He could only imagine what else his mother had read about him in those rags. “Spill it.”

Elizabeth released a long exhale before she spoke. “Are you hurt?”

The question from his mother froze him to his spot. No way would one of those fashion magazines littering Queen Elizabeth’s hair salon mention something like that. Gideon felt sure he kept his pains hidden. On instinct, he tugged on his knee pad again, which caused the joint to twinge. He placed his foot down to the floor and walked around to lessen the ache.

“I’m fine. Never better. Remember, I’m the one you never have to worry about.”

Gideon recalled the nights of watching how Elizabeth had paced in their home as she’d waited to see if the police would bring Gunnar home or relay some tragic news to her. Thane had needed constant attention. Gideon hadn’t wanted to add to her concern. He wouldn’t be breaking that trend today.

Elizabeth cut into his thoughts. “I know. But if you are hurting, you know you can—”

“Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing.” Gideon took a breath before saying, “I apologize for interrupting you.” The pain didn’t hurt him enough to forget his manners. He glanced at the digital clock over the door. “And I don’t have a lot of time.”

“I know you have to go, baby. We’re cheering for you from Virginia Beach. I love you.” Elizabeth made a kissing sound over the phone.

“Love you, Mom. Be sure to tell Gunnar not to screw it up with Eboni again.” One of the brothers had to be lucky in love. Gideon remembered how great Eboni had been with his older brother.

If Queen Elizabeth knew about Thane’s penchant for loving and leaving women, she would pull the young player back home by his earlobe like she used to do when they’d misbehaved as children.

Gideon disconnected the call. Before he could resume with his team, he had one more quick call to make. He had to hear from Thane. He could go in this game with a clearer mind if he knew his entire family had his back. He knew he wouldn’t hear from Hilary.

After the first ring, Gideon heard a click before he heard a voice.

“Gid! How the hell are you?” Thane’s light voice seemed in conflict with the impression Gunnar had given of their brother.

Gunnar had told Gideon that each time he’d tried calling Thane, he hadn’t gotten an answer. Gideon didn’t know if Gunnar had exaggerated or if Gideon had gotten lucky with scoring a conversation with their youngest brother.

“Wound tight, Thane. But in a good way.” Gideon shook out his free arm when he started to feel some tingling in it. He couldn’t wait to start this game. It had been twenty-seven years in the making.

“I hear you. Thanks again for the tickets. With spring training coming up, I couldn’t go. You understand, right?”

Gideon nodded. “I get it.”

Like Gideon had his pro-football training, Thane had to prepare for his whole Major League Baseball season starting soon. Then Gideon heard a strange voice behind Thane. The tone and content of the statement didn’t sound like any trainer Gideon had ever encountered.

“Come back over here, baby.”

Gideon’s shoulders tightened. Had his brother actually pushed him aside so he could lay up with some woman?

“Who’s that?” Gideon balled his hand into a fist, stretching the tape across his knuckles.

“I’m not sure of her name yet, but believe me, she has the lungs of a cheerleader.” Thane laughed.

Gideon found no amusement in it. Since Thane hadn’t gone back home to help Gunnar with their mother, he would have thought his baby brother would have come to California to cheer him on his most important day ever.

“I got off the phone with Mom. She sounds good today.” Gideon hoped his message got through to his younger brother.

“Yeah, I talked to her earlier. She told me she’s having a Super Bowl party at her house.” Thane laughed and then said something that sounded muffled.

Gideon assumed his attentions had been diverted by the stranger in his room.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your special day.” Sarcasm dripped from every word Gideon uttered. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you, man.”

“Yeah, later.” Thane disconnected the call.

Even at Thane’s age, Gideon didn’t remember being that self-centered. He had bigger things to worry about now. If his mother read in some magazine or saw on TV that he may be hurt, it wouldn’t take long for his coaches to say something to him. It also meant he had to watch his back out on the field. The opposing team would love to take him out of the game, preferably on a stretcher.

Time. Gideon had to play in this one game. Then he could heal and move on with more training. Today, he would have to be faster against the other team. They’d probably be gunning for his leg to take him out of the sport, not only the game.

As he turned to go back into the main locker room, he ran into Dennis, the receiver who’d tried getting Gideon’s attention earlier. Dennis had become like a third brother to Gideon. They had gone to University of North Carolina together. They’d been drafted together. They had even ended up on the same NFL team.

The big man with dreadlocks that went down to his shoulders smiled wide enough to express his happiness and the team’s. “Come on, man. You ready?” He held up his hand to Gideon.

Gideon slapped his hand against Dennis’s and pulled him in for a half hug. “We got this. Like back in the day as a Tar Heel.”

“Were you talking to your mama?” Dennis paced as Gideon strolled to the main locker-room area.

Gideon nodded.

Dennis smiled harder and shook his head as he let out a low whistle. “Your fine-ass mama needs me in her life.”

Gideon laughed. “Hey, watch your mouth when you talk about her.”

“I hear you. I hear you.” Dennis chuckled. “When we first met back in college, I used to think it was weird for a white dude to have a black mama. After meeting her, I wanted to marry that woman.” He pounded Gideon on his shoulder with his fist. “I’d even let you call me Daddy.”

Gideon pushed his friend’s shoulder. “Oh, you have jokes, right?” He shook his head. “Sorry. Mom doesn’t go for young men. She said they remind her too much of her sons.”

“Fine. Be sure to tell her I said hi.” Dennis lowered his head to Gideon and in a hushed tone asked, “I know this is part of the QB duty, but can I do the rally speech?”

The electric current that had been flowing through Gideon’s body defused with Dennis’s request. Long before the first hair had sprouted on his upper lip or down below his belt, he’d dreamed of being the quarterback in the Super Bowl and being able to bring his team to a win. Part of that dream included giving the speech to his team that would inspire them to annihilate the opposing team. He couldn’t give up any part of his dream, even to his friend, even if that friend had played as quarterback in college.

He stared at Dennis for a moment. “It’s the Super Bowl, Den. It’s my first one.”

“Yeah, mine too.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Remember back in the day, you and I would do this kind of thing together all the time.”

Gideon nodded. “I remember. And I know you want to make MVP. I get it.” He pointed to himself with his thumb. “I’m responsible for this team.”

“That’s cool.” Disappointment laced Dennis’s statement. “Make sure you keep throwing me the ball, okay? I’ll make sure to get it in the end zone every time.” In Dennis’s dramatic fashion, he took a big step to the side to illustrate his point.

“Maybe for the new season we can share the motivation duties. The guys are already hyped up. We need to go into this game in control.” Gideon wanted to set a tone for his team. Acting out of control would kill their synergy.

Dennis’s smile softened. Gideon saw his shoulders slump under the shoulder pads.

Gideon turned away from his disappointed friend and glanced into the bustling locker room. Dennis didn’t understand the importance of leading a team in the Super Bowl, not merely playing in the game. Gideon had to be the puppet master. If a play failed, it would be on him. He couldn’t let his team down, not today.

“Sure. You’re the boss.” Dennis offered his neon smile again.

“I promise I won’t let you all down.” Gideon wrapped his arm around Dennis’s shoulders as they headed toward the team.

“Hey, now that you and Hil are over and this is our last game of the season, are you going to try and hit up that cheerleader?” Dennis winked and licked his lips.

Gideon didn't have to guess which cheerleader his friend wanted him to hit up as he called it. Brittany or Tiffany or Brandy. Something with an E sound at the end of her name. The bouncy, bubbly brunette had made it known she wanted Gideon. At practices where cheerleaders weren’t needed, she popped up and managed to run into him. When he worked out at the team gym, she would be waiting for him outside. One time after practice, as he’d soaked in an ice bath, she’d shown up in her bikini ready to join him.

Gideon had never liked a desperate woman. This cheerleader reeked of neediness.

“Man, I don’t want any part of her.” Gideon shook his head. “For one, it’s against the rules. Players can’t date the She-Wolves.”

“During the season.” Dennis pounded his fist on Gideon’s shoulder. “After the season…”

“I still don’t want her.” Gideon shook his head. “But you, you have at her. Be sure you treat her right.” No matter what Gideon did, his mama’s words always crept into his mind and out of his mouth.

“She only has eyes for you, brother. Bet you five big ones that when you come out of the tunnel, she’ll run into you.”

Gideon snickered. “No way. The cheerleaders know not to interfere with our entrances, especially for this game.”

Dennis held up his large hand with his long digits splayed. “Five big ones.”

Gideon nodded. “You’re on.” He glanced at the team. “Hey, everyone! Listen up!” He waited until the team members stopped their actions and moved around him and Dennis.

He couldn’t keep his mind on what he would have to do in these next few hours while he knew his mother would have to have heart surgery soon. The phone call home to talk to his mother and his brothers hadn’t calmed his nerves. His team didn’t need to know about his worry.

“Friends,” Gideon began, “we didn’t get to this position by luck.” He strolled around the locker room, making sure to look each one of his teammates in their eyes. “We got here with heart. We got here because we’re all dedicated. We trained our asses off. We ran drills until we dropped. Hell, I think even Thumper put on a clean jock one time.” He pointed to the large lineman standing behind the group.

“Nope!” Thumper responded and moved in closer to the group to share his stench.

“Damn, dude! Get the hell back.” Stephen, a running back, covered his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. “Offensive lineman is right. Your smell is brutal.”

Gideon and his teammates laughed but also made space around Thumper. Since training camp, Thumper had convinced himself that wearing the same cup and jock strap without washing the duo kept him in high playing form. As a result, he reeked. Coaches had to keep him away from the press and charity events.

Not Gideon. It didn’t escape his attention that as quarterback, he’d become the face of the team. The press ate up his boy-next-door look, as one magazine described him.

He could care less about his appearance or what the female fans thought of him. He had a job to do, a game to play, a chance to be taken seriously as an athlete.

“To win, we’re going to have to remember our training.” Gideon didn’t raise his voice, a trait he’d learned from his mother. If spoken with conviction, people will listen. “We’re going to remember how we got here. We’re going to play like this could be the very last time we will ever play this sport we love again.” Gideon peered over his teammates’ heads when he saw the locker-room door opening. He focused on his team. “Play hard, men. Play with integrity. Win for Virginia.”

“Do it for the Gipper, man?” Dennis asked and then laughed.

Gideon smiled. “I don’t know what your girl’s name is now.”

The group of men around them laughed.

Dennis put his hand on Gideon’s shoulder and pulled him back. “I got this.”

“Got what?” Gideon felt his eyebrows knit together as he watched his friend move to the center of the room.

“We are Wolves!” Dennis shouted the encouraging words in the middle of the crowded locker room. He illustrated his exclamation by howling like a wolf, something their fans did on a regular basis for the team.

Gideon shook his head. He should have known Dennis would kick up the guys into a frenzy. He would have to be that calming voice of reason, even if his insides screamed along with Dennis.

The team, dressed in their standard red-black-and-gold uniforms, cheered while pumping their fists in the air.

“Fuck ‘Sharknado’! We all know a shark can’t beat a wolf, am I right?”

The team laughed and cheered at the same time.

“The Maui Sharks are going down!” Dennis raised his fists in the air.

Gideon put his hand on Dennis’s chest and faced him. “That’s enough.” As the quarterback, he had to be the leader. He had to set the mood for how the team played during this important game.

“Okay, guys. Huddle up.” Coach Brick, who must have walked into the locker-room area, waved his hands in the air signal the men to come together. “Christ, I can’t wait until this game is done so that you can take a damn bath, Thumper.”

The team laughed again.

“I bathe. It’s my jock that’s fragrant.” The big man cupped his crotch and grinned through his big, bushy red beard.

“Serious time, guys. Don’t think about this being the Super Bowl. Think about this as the game of your lives. Like Gid said, you’ve all trained for this. Stay smart. Stay sharp. Think two steps ahead of the other team. We can win this together. All in.” Brick put his hand palm down in the center of the circle.

The team put their hands on top of his.

Without prompting, the team shouted in unison, “Wolves rule!” Then they howled, leaning their heads back to project to the ceiling.

“Line up in the tunnel.” Brick pointed to the doorway.

The team all filtered out in a line with Gideon bringing up the rear. He picked up his shoulder pads and secured them onto his shoulders. One more thing he had to carry. He grabbed the collar portion of the weighted plastic protection to occupy his hands until he got onto the field.

“Uh, hold on, Gid.” Brick put a hand on Gideon’s chest.

Gideon peered down at his coach’s hand and took a step back as the rest of his team filed out of the room.

His coach epitomized his name. The former Hall of Famer stood about a foot shorter than Gideon’s six-foot-three height. His width nearly matched his height, and looking at the man from behind, it didn’t look like he had a neck. Topped off with his crew-cut hair, his coach looked like a pale brick.

Seeing the coach accelerated Gideon’s heartbeat. Gideon already had a hard time corralling his feelings about living out his dream at such a young age. Too bad he knew why he had arrived. His left knee throbbed as though it wanted to give its two cents about his situation.

“How are you feeling? You know all the plays?” Brick’s expression became somber.

Gideon tapped his temple. “Got them all. And I studied the Sharks’ previous games. They rely on their size to steamroll over their competition. It won’t happen to us.”

“And you’re doing okay?” His coach scanned Gideon from head to toe, purposefully stopping at Gideon’s knee area.

To refute his coach’s assumption, Gideon paced in his spot as he kept his gaze on Brick’s eyes. He couldn’t be seen as weak. No way could he miss this game.

“I’ve got a lot of pent-up energy. I can’t wait to get on the field.” Gideon pointed to the door to give his coach a hint to end this conversation.

“Okay. You got it.” Brick pointed to Gideon. “You know if you have any problems, you can tell me. We have Joshua waiting in the wings to fill in as quarterback. Push comes to shove, we can use Dennis.”

Gideon shook his head. “Why are you talking to me about contingency plans like I’m not going to play?”

Determination filled Gideon’s head and heart. He wouldn’t get himself to this point without seeing this game to the end.

Brick held up his hand to Gideon. “You’re right. If there’s nothing for anyone to worry about, I won’t press the issue.”

“Good.” He tried walking by Brick when the coach put his hand on Gideon’s shoulder.

“Did you get the shot?”

Gideon didn’t know what bothered him more, the fact that his coach knew Gideon had problems with his knee or the fact that he wanted him to push his body until he broke. He couldn’t put all the blame on Brick’s nonplussed reaction. Gideon had made it clear he would need to be dragged off the field for him to miss this game.

Gideon dropped his gaze and shook his head. “I don’t need it.” He wanted to do this win on his own head of steam, without chemical assistance.

Brick held up his electronic tablet. “The team doctor said—”

“He said they didn’t find anything wrong with my knee, not on the X-rays, not in the physical exam. Nothing.” He stared into his coach’s eyes when he spoke. “But I’m sure the doctor wrote down I mentioned my knee had been bothering me. I took a hard hit the last game.”

“That was two weeks ago.” Brick scratched his head under his Wolves baseball cap.

Gideon didn’t need a reminder. He’d worked his knee out harder, trying to strengthen it for the game. His big mouth had gotten him in trouble. “I’m fine. I was fine through training. I was fine for our last game. I’m going to get us that championship.” Speaking with conviction had to help him now.

Brick stared at him for a moment. “Lord knows, I want this championship. It’s been fifteen years since I led a team to a Super Bowl win. I want you to bring that home to me.” He pointed in Gideon’s face. “One time. Mess up once, and I’m pulling you. Got that?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gideon smiled to assure his coach. “And sorry for interrupting you earlier. I’m passionate about playing. I can’t get this far only to be benched.”

“Understood. But know that if I know, the other guys know.” He patted Gideon. “Watch yourself.”

Gideon nodded. “Understood.” He grabbed his jersey from his assigned locker. He slipped it over his head but kept his cell phone. Win or lose, the first people he wanted to talk to after the game would be his family.

“Play hard, son.” Brick patted Gideon on his back.

Gideon grabbed his helmet and ran out of the locker room. He reached the rest of his team at the end of the hall. Through the double doors, he heard the full stadium of fans screaming. He listened to the stadium announcer.

“Introducing the Virginia Beach Wolves!”

The double doors opened. Fireworks shot off, white and blue sparklers erupting on either side of the doors. The screams and howls from the crowd blanketed the entire place until it sounded like late night in the middle of a rain forest. When Gideon looked into the stands, he saw a mixture of fans wearing the colors of his team and fans wearing the Sharks’ traditional blue and gold colors. In his mind, more fans wore his team’s colors.

The She-Wolves cheerleaders jumped around, waving their pompoms as the team rushed through the hallway.

“And the quarterback for the Wolves, Gideon Wells!” the announcer exclaimed.

Gideon ran from the hallway. Before he could join his team, one cheerleader jumped in front of him. He managed to catch her before he knocked her down.

“Whoa. Easy there.” Gideon set her back on her feet.

“Sorry, Gideon.” She wrapped her arms around his neck after the collision and didn’t act ready to release him.

Gideon gazed at her and recognized her as the cheerleader who had been running into him during practices and team events. Through the padding and his gloves, he couldn’t feel her body, despite her best efforts to wriggle herself against him.

Even if dating cheerleaders hadn’t been against the rules, Gideon wouldn’t have gone for this woman anyway. He had to pry her arms from around his neck before he could keep going.

He met up with the team on the sidelines.

Dennis leaned over to Gideon. “Pay up.” Then he released a big belly laugh.

“I knew she was crazy. Who does that before a Super Bowl?” Gideon shook his head.

Before the National Anthem could be sung, Dennis elbowed Gideon in his side. When Gideon looked at him, Dennis asked, “For real, are you good?’”

Gideon dropped his gaze to the ground before answering. “Yeah. Why?”

“The streets are talking, man.” Dennis shuffled in his spot before he spoke again. “You hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Gideon gazed around to see if anyone could hear him. Nowadays, everyone had cameras and microphones everywhere.

“You want us to run the 300?”

Like the movie the name came from, Gideon and Dennis called the method to protect the quarterback 300 because they liked the strategy of funneling the opposing team toward the quarterback in smaller doses to handle them better.

Gideon shook his head. “Stick to my plays. Don’t deviate.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Dennis nodded. “As usual, you want to do things your way, right? Got it.”

Gideon ignored Dennis’s sly remark. Dennis had never had to be the glue to keep things from falling apart—families, friends, businesses. Gideon managed to hold everyone together. No one ever had to worry about him.

After the coin toss, the game started. Gideon got in a zone like he always did during a game. As long as he could see Dennis, he could get the ball to him. They worked like a machine.

As expected, the team looked out for Gideon, keeping the Sharks’ huge defensive line from crushing him. The Hawaiian team had brute force. They couldn’t account for the Wolves’ speed and Gideon’s tactical game play.

Before halftime, Gideon threw a pass to Dennis. He watched the ball barely spiraling in the air before his friend caught it and hauled ass down the field. Gideon didn’t expect to be hit from the side, sweeping his legs from under him as he crashed to the ground. The reserve of air he had in his lungs expelled from his body, leaving him limp and gasping.

Gideon heard a crack in his knee before crashing to the ground, but he could still move it. Good. That meant it couldn’t be broken. He brought his foot close to his body to prop up his aching joint.

He gripped a handful of grass as he lay on his back like a hapless turtle. Touching the blades of grass helped him slow down his breathing, to focus on the here and now. In his reclined position, he attempted to catch his breath as he gazed up at the sky starting to get a dusky-pink appearance. Even though no one stood around him, it felt like that 300-pound lineman sat on his chest.

Get up, Gid. Christ, stand up. Don’t let people worry about you. Get. The. Hell. Up.

Gideon sat up in time to peer up at the scoreboard. Dennis must have made the touchdown. His team led by six points, but he couldn’t get excited. Not yet. He had watched and participated in plenty of games that had been turned around after halftime.

As soon as Gideon stood, he knew his knee had taken far too much abuse from the hit. After the field goal had been made, he walked off the field without limping or wincing, a feat considering how bad the joint felt.

Dennis managed to catch up to him as they funneled their way back down the hall. “You good?”

Gideon kept his gaze straight. “Those are some big guys, huh?” He smiled before turning to his friend. “I need a quick ice pack and I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we can get—”

“Drop it.” Gideon didn’t mean to snap at his buddy, but a lot rode on this game. “I apologize, man. It’s the game.”

Dennis put his big hand on top of Gideon’s helmet. “Get out of your head and get into the game. Keep getting the ball to me and all will go great.”

Despite getting the team to the Super Bowl, he knew all too well that owners and coaches liked cutting players with too many injuries. He’d come too far to get dropped now.

During the halftime show, Gideon found a quiet corner of the locker room and put an ice pack on his knee. He sat back, closed his eyes, and envisioned winning this game with his team. Once they did that, he could go home.

Going to see his mother consumed his thoughts. If he could see her, he would be happy. He would have to make sure she got through her surgery. Then he could worry about himself.

The last minute of the game tested Gideon. His knee throbbed each time he crouched down to get the ball. The Sharks got their second wind, and they seemed bound and determined to take out Gideon. Each play, they jumped on him harder and faster.

Gideon didn’t complain much, but it started wearing on him. The last few seconds of the game, Gideon pulled his team together.

He glanced at Dennis before he spoke. “Last run, fellas. We can do this.”

“The last twenty seconds, and they’re up five points.” Dennis pointed up. “Give me the ball. Once you get it in my hands, we’ve won the Super Bowl, baby!” He pounded Gideon on his back.

Relying on Dennis didn’t suit Gideon. He wanted to go in this game playing it to the very end. “Give me a 300.”

“What? That’s crazy. You’re going to run that play now when—”

“Watch my back.” No time for apologies. Gideon broke from the pack to resume his spot.

He spied the goal line. He needed to do more. After looking off to the sideline, he watched his other teammates staring at him like a savior. He saw panic and disbelief in each of their faces.

Gideon called the play. The center hiked the ball to him. The taut ball slid into his awaiting hands. Gideon watched Dennis faking out one of the larger Sharks players to coast down the field, but he never turned around to Gideon. Without seeing Dennis’s eyes, he couldn’t chance throwing the ball to him and expect him to receive it. Instead of throwing the ball, Gideon took off down the field around the outside where his team managed to corral the Sharks players and keep them in the center.

Gideon charged toward the goal line. He gripped the ball as though it contained the cure to whatever ailed his mother. He chomped down on the black mouth guard as he pushed his body to incredible limits. No one from the opposing team blocked his path. In the goal area, he saw Dennis jumping up and down and waving his hands. Too late.

Gideon kept running. From the side, he caught the image of an opposing team player catching up to him. Mustering every bit of strength he had, Gideon took a big leap over the player as soon as the man attempted to tackle him.

When Gideon landed with a crunch, his bones and muscles ached. He peered over and saw he had made it over the goal line. He couldn’t help but laugh out of sheer joy. His knee didn’t share in his happiness. He’d made it.

Dennis stood over him. “That was a dick move, man.” He hesitated before putting his hand out to him. Gideon accepted it.

“Looking out for the team.” Gideon walked alongside Dennis.

“No, you weren’t.” Dennis jogged ahead.

Gideon didn’t see his move as one to slight anyone. He wanted to see his team win. After their successful field goal kick and time running out, they did win. Colorful streamers, confetti and tickertape filled the arena. The team jumped around after dousing Brick with a cooler full of a bright orange drink.

Dennis, although he celebrated with his team, kept his distance from Gideon. In the loud arena, the silence from his friend drowned out everything else. He would have to get Dennis alone to tell him why he did what he did.

He had to call his mother and Gunnar first. He had to hear their voices. After getting his cell phone, he called his mother’s house.

“Queen’s not here,” Victor Dabu, one of his mother’s trusted employees at her flower shop, said. “She’s at the hospital.”

Gideon covered his free ear with his hand to make sure he had heard what Victor said. “What? Did you say hospital?”

“Yes. She’s fine.”

Gideon breathed a sigh of relief. He imagined that his last play may have caused her to have a heart attack. He glanced at Dennis, who now busied himself doing an interview with a popular female sports journalist.

“Why is she at the hospital?” Gideon hated shouting over the crowd, but he had to have this conversation.

“Gunnar was shot. He’s in surgery now.”

The sounds of the crowd faded away. For a moment, the movement around Gideon slowed down. Shot. His brother had been shot.

“Hey, son, the president would like a word with you.” Coach Brick held up the phone to Gideon.

“I can’t. I got to go home and see my mother.” Gideon ran from the sidelines and tried making his way through the throngs of people now on the field.

Gideon didn’t care how it sounded. He knew he had to make it home before he lost his family.