I roll my eyes. “I think everyone's seen it," I say, knowing where Cory is going.
"Then you know what I'm talking about, right? We need emotional content. So when you step on the field tomorrow, you put everything out there. Your pain, the bad feelings because of your dad, and yeah, I'm gonna go there, your love of Whitney. And don't bullshit me, I know you do. Take it all, and leave it out there tomorrow. You do that, and we'll be fine."
"Is that what you do?"
Cory laughs and shakes his head. "Me? You need to check who you're talking to. I don't have enough emotionally going on in my life to last me through the first quarter. I play for the same reason I always have. To crack some heads and to get the girls.”
"You're never going to change, Cory. You know that?"
Cory laughs again and slaps my knee. "I know that, bro. I know that."
I'm nervous, as for the first time ever, I don't feel settled as I walk through my individual warmups and stretches before the game. The sun's nearly down already, the lights are on, and my uniform fits right. But there's still something wrong, and I know what it is. My heart's not in the game.
Suddenly, I hear Whitney behind me. "Troy."
I turn around, and I see her. She's in her uniform, like the other girls, but there's still something different about her. She's still so beautiful, though, that I want to pull her close, but I'm afraid. I don't want to screw up again, like last time. "Whitney. I . . . I thought you wouldn't talk to me before the game. I missed your note."
Whitney gives me a ghost of a smile and reaches into the waistband of her uniform, pulling out a square of folded up notebook paper. "Never. I know things aren't perfect between us, and I'm sorry. It's been mostly my fault."
"No it hasn't," I say, stepping closer. "When I said I want to forget Silver Lake Falls, that doesn't mean you. I know it sounds stupid, but when I've been studying at home, all I can see is us. You're too special to lose."
Whitney blinks and looks up to the night sky, and I think she's about to cry. Instead, she steps forward and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. "I love you so much, Troy, and I'm so sorry I screwed the past few weeks up."
"We'll fix it, Whitney," I reply, stroking her hair. "We have plenty of time to fix things. I know it."
She looks like she's about to say something else, but I hear someone holler from the locker room. "Hey, Troy! Coach wants us in for something!"
"Just a minute!" I yell back and look down to Whitney. "Thanks. I promise you, we'll get through this. I love you."
Whitney stands on her tiptoes and grabs my head, kissing me sweetly. Her lips are soft, but there's still something strange about her kiss. It feels like she's saying goodbye, not I love you. "Go," she says after the kiss. "Go and grab your future, and never let go. Don't forget . . . I love you."
I go back to the locker room, feeling partially better, while Coach gives us a pep talk. It's a bit longer than normal. I think Coach is worried about as much as the guys are. After he rambles on a little, I stand up from my locker and take over. "Excuse me, Coach? I'd like to say something."
Coach nods, and I look around at the guys who are my team, my brothers.
"You all know what I've been going through, maybe even more than Coach here. I don't know. What I do know is that when I was hurt, when I was down and vulnerable, you all stood up and carried me on your shoulders. You gave me the strength to keep going, to not fall apart. Well, I'm promising you tonight, I swear on my blood and on my life that I’m going to return that to you. There is a debt, a bond between us that can never really be broken, isn't there? We made it in the July and August sun, running two-a-days until we were nearly puking. We made it against Blueridge, and East Valley, and everyone we've faced. Even against Hartsville, and you don't know how much it hurt me to be sitting watching that, wanting to be out there. Well, now we've got Northern. Fine.
They've been playing together since they were in preschool. Fine.
They ain't lost to us in a decade! Fine.
Tonight, I'm laying it all on the line. Tonight, we lay it all on the line. And tonight, we teach Northern what it means to come to the Fox Den against hungry Foxes. You ready?"
The guys don't cheer. There's none of that false bravado bullshit that fades away before the opening kickoff's done. I just look around and see a set to their eyes, a tightness to their hands, and I nod. "Good. Helmets up. Cory, take 'em out."
It's our final home game of the regular season, so I'm sent out to do the coin flip, and I choose to go by myself, already helmeted. As I walk by the trainer's table, I stop and grab the white athletic tape. "Hey, Tim, you got a Sharpie on you?"
"Yeah," our medic says. "Why?"