Charlotte almost had tears in her eyes and I wanted to wrap my arms around her and pull her into me, tell her it would be alright, but I couldn’t. I was too numb all of a sudden. All that work, all the recovery time, all that physical therapy, and I was going to be riding the bench after all.
Charlotte reached over and took my hand and we sat there for a few minutes without speaking. Finally, she opened up, wiping her face off with the other hand. “This is only temporary, Lance. You’ll be starting again in no time, I just know it,”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Hope?” She said, her voice flaring up. “Don’t give me that. You’ve gotten this far and you’re gonna go all the way. I believe in you, Lance Parker, even if you don’t.”
I looked deep into her eyes, unable to say just how much I appreciated her. “Thank you, Charlotte.” She leaned forward, like she was going to kiss me, but she pulled back at the last moment.
“I have to go,” she said, standing up and looking in the mirror to make sure everything looked appropriate. “I’ll check in on you later, OK?”
I stood up after her. “Su-sure.” I watched her head toward the door. “Is everything OK? I asked, suddenly sure that everything was not OK.
“Y-yeah, everything’s fine,” Charlotte said, adding a small laugh to the end of it. “I’m sorry to hear you’ll be on the bench, Lance, but I know it’ll be only temporary.”
She left the room right after that, and I sat back down in the chair, definitely sure that something was going on but unable to put my finger on it. Clearly something was bothering Charlotte and it had nothing to do with me being on the bench.
Or maybe it did? Was she having second thoughts about pursuing something real with me, whether now or when the season ended? Was there another guy involved?
All these thoughts rolled around my head and I couldn’t shake them, and I couldn’t get out from under them.
I didn’t have time to wallow for too long, because I had to attend practice. It felt strange being out on the field after all that time with players running at full speed, running routes, going through plays, and preparing for our next opponent, but I got into the rhythm really quickly again.
Practice was a little different for the backup quarterback than the starter - instead of playing with the offensive starters, I pretended to be our upcoming opponent’s offense against our defensive starters. I didn’t like having to pretend to play like someone else, but I couldn’t be too mad - being out in the sun and playing even fake football for a change felt amazing. I noticed Charlotte watching from the sidelines and I could see the smile on her face, which warmed me inside and took off a lot of the sting of seeing Oliver Lee working with the offensive starters on the other side of the field.
After practice, I plopped myself down on the bench, cup of water in one hand and a towel in the other, mopping the sweat off my brow in buckets. I leaned over so it wouldn’t get me any wetter. I must still have been a little out of shape because I didn’t remember practices taking this much of a toll on me earlier in the season.
Drake saw me and came over after his huddle broke up and dropped down next to me, and turned to me after an assistant handed him water and another towel.
“Great day to be back on the field, eh, QB?”
I looked over at him, covering my face with my towel. “Sure beats the alternative.”
“Can’t wait to have you starting again, my man, when’s that gonna be?”
I looked forward, unable to meet Drake’s gaze. “Not up to me, man, ask Coach Armstrong.”
“You mean?” Drake whistled out loud. “Lee’s gonna keep starting even though you’re back and ready?”
I nodded.”
“Ain’t that some shit.”
“You’re telling me.”
Drake leaned in, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry about it, Lance. You know you’ll be starting soon. Lee may be on an alright run, but everyone on the team knows the job’s still yours, you hear?”
“Thanks, man, but if Coach doesn’t agree, it doesn’t much matter what the team thinks.” I pulled the towel away and looked at Drake. “I’ve seen your stats, they don’t seem to have taken a hit.”
Drake looked forward, clearly wanting to avoid smiling and failing. “Man, I just catch what they throw me. I just wish it was you doing the throwing, man, we could be having a season for the ages out here.”
“Still could.”
Drake clapped me on the back. “That’s it, man, that’s gonna get you back on the field with me. Just you wait.”
“I’m waiting, I’m waiting. I’ve been waiting for weeks.”
“It’ll happen. Don’t you worry.”
“I know, but sometimes it’s tough, you know?” I didn’t want to sound defeatist, I didn’t want to sound like I was whining, but this was raw and pure honesty.
Drake looked at me at first like I had broken some unspoken rule, then he nodded. “I know it, brother, believe me I know it. You think preseason was easy for me, always on the bubble, never knowing whether I would make the team or not?”
“Yeah, I remember. We were roommates, Drake, I was there.”