Out of Bounds

Hey Drew,

I hope you’re having a great week, and that practice is treating you well. I’m writing to you to share something on my mind. Please know I’m not asking you to change your mind. I respect your decision. You have to play the game how you have to play the game. But I wouldn’t be a card-carrying football fan or coach’s daughter if I let you go about thinking you lost for the wrong reason. The truth is this—San Francisco was sharp. Its defense was unbeatable that day. You were forced to throw a few seconds sooner than you would have liked. Your receivers weren’t firing on all cylinders, and they dropped passes. Your offensive line didn’t protect you as well as they should. That is all. You aren’t losing your focus. The game is just that—it’s a game. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes you’re amazing, and sometimes the other team has all the points in its favor. I have no doubt you’ll keep showing Los Angeles how lucky they are to have you. I know that’s how I felt for those few brief days when you were mine.

All my best,

Dani

I read it again, letting her words soak in, till I can feel them deep in my gut. She’s not the first one to say this about the game. Some of my teammates did too. Coach hinted at it. But she’s the first to say it so clearly, and so well. And she’s the first one to say it in a way that gets why I felt shitty about my performance. Joining this team as the starting quarterback has been a huge opportunity for me. It’s the chance I’ve longed for to prove myself. I want to make this franchise happy. I want to stay here. I want to have a career here.

But even so, maybe I’ve gotten something wrong. My heart feels heavy when I look up. “Shit.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, man,” I say, sucking the crappy feeling back in.

“You sure?” he asks, skeptically.

“Absolutely. Just a note from . . .”

“By the way,” he says, tipping his chin to the paper. “Dani was right.”

I tilt my head to the side. “About what?”

“Qwench. That little bit of information turned out to be spot on,” he says, looking me in the eye. “I made some calls. Asked around. Turned out she was spot on. The company did have some trouble with tax fraud, but did its best to hide it. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure I would have found out about it, to tell you the truth.”

“Really?”

He nods several times. “She helped us, man. It wasn’t widely known, but she was looking out for you. Had your best interests at heart. I’m really fucking grateful for that.”

A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. Can’t help it. I’m proud of her for wanting to help, and grateful to have the both of them looking out for me.

Except . . . I don’t have her.

I sigh heavily, then drag a hand through my hair. “I’m glad she was helpful. And listen, I’m sorry if I sounded like an ass questioning you in the first place.”

He scoffs. “Please. Don’t apologize. It surprised me at first, and honestly, maybe it ruffled my feathers a bit too.”

I give him a narrow stare. “Feathers? You’ve got feathers?”

He pretends to swipe at them on his arm. “All the fuck over.”

“Well, don’t you worry. I need you and your fucking feathers, man.”

“Thanks. It did make me worry that maybe you didn’t need me. But then I got over that, because I’m me, and I’m awesome, and you’ll always need me,” he says with a huge smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Then he adopts a more serious look. “But I appreciate you saying all that.”

We knock fists and I clap him on the shoulder. “Always, bro. I always need you.”

“Anyway, I’m glad she helped us see that it wasn’t right for you. When you told me that, I started lining up other options. I set up some meetings with a restaurant chain and a shoe company, so we have other possibilities coming your way.”

“That's fantastic.”

The room is silent for a moment, and I can’t stop thinking about Dani, and her note, and how she made the effort to tell me this even after I shut her out. I turned my frustration with myself into an all-or-nothing decision.

Jason breaks the silence. “She’s right about that too,” he says, pointing to the paper, even though he hasn’t read it.

I furrow my brow. “How do you know what she said?”

He shrugs. “I don’t. But I can guess. And I guess she said exactly what you needed to hear, and what others have been trying to tell you all week. That you didn’t fuck up a game because you fell in love. It was just a game, man. One that you didn’t happen to win. Don’t throw the woman out with the L.”

I blink and shake my head like a dog shaking off water. “What did you just say?”