Surviving Us

by Erin Noelle

  My gaze falls from his to the table, not wanting to have this conversation. “I don’t want to talk about it, Kay,” I murmur softly. “I was stupid.”

  Reaching across the table, he grabs my hand in his and squeezes softly. “Hey, look at me,” he commands firmly. When I do, he continues, “Don’t ever call yourself stupid. You were having fun, experiencing life, like young people should . . . shit, like everyone should. I get it. It doesn’t mean I wish the trip would’ve played out differently, but I understand.”

  “I really thought it was something special. He made me feel like I’ve never even dreamed, and since then, I haven’t had one of my morning episodes. Our connection was strong . . .” My voice trails off as the server approaches the table.

  Kayden orders a bottle of wine and a few appetizers, and thankfully, the guy doesn’t even bother to ask me for my ID.

  “Bristol, it was a vacation romance—nothing more, nothing less,” he states matter-of-factly. “That doesn’t mean you guys didn’t have a connection or what you felt wasn’t real. It just means when you each go home, it’s over. You’ve got to move on with real life.”

  The smile he offers is empty. He doesn’t understand what I felt when I was with Davis. I know it was only a couple of weeks, but I fell in love with him, and moving on is hard. People say it like you just flip a switch in your head and it magically happens.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please,” I beg, “I’m happy you came to visit, but I’d rather we talk about the game, or what’s going on with you in New York or something.”

  “Fair enough,” he replies, giving my hand one last squeeze, “but I’m still interested in witnessing this shameless depravity you claim happens at these college parties. Remember, I’m an old guy; it’s been a long time since I’ve had that kind of fun.”

  The awkwardness lifts, and the rest of the meal is quite enjoyable. We spend the majority of the time talking about the game, the horrible injury, and what that means for the team going forward. Kayden and I’ve always enjoyed talking sports. He claims I know more than his guy friends and has used my knowledge to win his fantasy football league the last two years.

  Since we both drove ourselves, we say our goodbye in the parking lot with a plan to meet up tomorrow for the annual Labor Day BBQ at the SigmaEp house. I’m hoping since it’s more of an afternoon gathering, it won’t be too completely out of control, but on this campus, you never really know what to expect.

  WHEN I BLEW OUT the candles on my birthday cake last week and wished for an opportunity to have a life that involves the two things I want most in this world, Bristol and playing football, I honestly didn’t want the starting OU quarterback to go down in the first game with a torn ACL and to be out for the rest of the season. I was thinking more along the lines of a chance to walk on and compete for the job, if not this season, then perhaps for next year, since I still have all four years of my eligibility remaining.

  But an hour after the game ends, when my phone rings and Eli’s name pops up on my caller ID, I can’t help but hope he’s calling with good news. I look back and forth between my parents, who are at the dining room table with me, and take a deep breath. My stomach rolls in a fit of nerves as I answer.

  “Hey, Eli. What’s up?”

  “It’s all up to you now, kid. They want to see you as soon as possible,” he replies, the excitement in his voice apparent.

  I jump up and let out a whoop, followed by my parents doing the same.

  “Are you serious? When? What did they say? Did they watch the tapes?” I pepper questions at him as my brain goes on overload.

  “Calm down, calm down.” He chuckles through the phone. “Coach Elsik called about ten minutes ago and said they’ve reviewed all of the footage we sent and he wants to get you up there as soon as possible, preferably tonight or first thing in the morning for a live workout. No decision has been made yet, but their backup is a true freshman and they’re pretty desperate.”

  “Right.” I’m now pacing around the house like a caged animal, still in shock this is actually happening. “Okay, I’ll book the first flight I can and let you know the details.”

  “Sounds good. I’m so proud of you, kid.”

  We hang up and I turn to my parents, who obviously know what’s going on from my end of the conversation, but still want to hear everything themselves. I quickly relay the information Eli just told me, then grab my iPad and book a red eye out of San Antonio at ten o’clock tonight. My mom is crying happy tears while my dad pats me on the back and tells me how proud he is, and I can’t wipe the goofy grin off my face to save my life.

  Once I’ve called Eli back with the travel details, he lets me know the coach will pick me up at the airport, and I’ll be staying at his place tonight before an early morning workout with the team. I rush upstairs to pack a suitcase, not knowing how long my trip will be or what will happen next. All I know is after wasting the last two years of my life doing absolutely nothing, I’m ready to live again, and I’m not going to let this opportunity pass me by.

  It’s a little after midnight when my plane lands, and throughout the entire flight, I’ve played out possible scenarios of what it’ll be like when I see Bristol again. To say I’ve missed her doesn’t do the depth of my feelings justice. She’s on my mind constantly, and until she’s mine for good, I won’t be satisfied. Everything I’ve worked so hard for in the last six weeks has been for me, but it’s also been for her . . . for us.

  Coach Elsik is waiting for me in the luggage claim area with a smile that fails to hide the stress in his eyes. As soon as he spots me, he strides over to greet me. “McKay! You made it!” He shakes my hand firmly and pats me on the back.

  I smile proudly and return the gesture. “I’m only two years late, but better late than never. Right, sir?”

  He laughs hard as he leads me over to the conveyer belt to wait for my bag. “No sense in rehashing the past now, son. No one can judge another man’s decisions until they’ve been in his shoes, so while there was disappointment here, there are no lingering hard feelings. We can only hope you’ve still got some of that magic you had back then. After everything that happened this afternoon, we’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

  “Like riding a bike, Coach. I promise I won’t let you down this time.”

  Once I’ve retrieved my suitcase, we make our way to his car in the parking garage, discussing the schedule for the next couple of days. In the morning, there’s a mandatory team meeting where he’s going to introduce me, followed by a full workout for everyone. He doesn’t think I’ll be ready to start for the next week or two, but hopes by the time we begin playing formidable opponents, I’ll have the offensive playbook memorized. I know it’s going to be a lot of work, but I welcome the challenge.

  The other issue he’s working on is getting me readmitted to the university. Using every bit of pull he has with the president and admissions department, he’s confident we’ll be able to use my original acceptance and test scores, claiming some sort of special circumstance. If surviving a plane crash isn’t one, I’m not sure what is.

  We arrive at his large family home nearly an hour later, and after showing me the guest room, we both get ready for bed, knowing tomorrow is going to be a long day. As I lie there in the strange bed, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, I’m tempted to email Bristol and let her know I’m here, mere miles away from her, but I don’t want to jinx anything. As soon as I know for sure what’s going on, I’m going to seek her out and claim her as mine, once and for all.

  By the time Coach Elsik knocks on my door to wake me up, I’ve been up for over an hour, unable to sleep much with the adrenaline pumping through me. Today is the first day of a new chapter of my life.

  When we finally break from the morning practice, my body is drenched with sweat, my brain is full of Xs and Os, and my face hurts from smiling so damn much. The entire team has made me feel more than welcome, and I think I impressed both the coaching sta
ff and the other players with the ease I pick up the offense.

  “Great job, McKay,” one of the defensive guys says as we walk into the locker room, stripping our pads off and leaving them in the cage where they’re kept.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling a shitload better about our season than I did last night,” another guy pipes up.

  A chorus of ‘hell yeahs’ and ‘no doubts’ follows, only increasing my hopefulness that everything will work out with the admissions and that the coaches feel the same way.

  “Thanks, man,” I tip my head in appreciation. “I hope it all works out, ‘cause this is exactly where I want to be.”

  “Hey, you should go with all of us to the Labor Day BBQ this afternoon at one of the frat houses,” a voice says behind me as we step into the showers.

  Turning around, I find Mo, one of the offensive linemen, walking up behind me with a friendly smile. “I imagine you’re going to be buried in a combination of playbooks and textbooks here soon,” he continues, “so you might as well enjoy one relaxing afternoon before the hell sets in. You’re more than welcome to ride with me and crash at my place.”

  I had really hoped to contact Bristol and try to see her this afternoon, but seeing how I’m staying with the coach, it might be easier if I’m somewhere near campus to meet her.

  “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ve gotta talk to Elsik and see what his plans are for me. I’m not really sure where I’m staying or for how long.”

  “Sounds good,” he replies, “I’ll wait around for you to see what he says.”

  After a quick shower, I stop by the coaching office to check in and see what happens next. A group of them are huddled together watching film from the morning’s practice when I knock on the open door and stick my head inside.

  “McKay, just the person we were talking about,” Coach Elsik rises from behind his desk with a boastful smile spread across his face. “Come on in and take a seat.”

  “Yes, sir.” I do as I’m told, a tad nervous, but trying to stay positive he’ll have good news for me.

  “I think it goes without saying you did a phenomenal job out there today. To be quite honest, I’m still a little shocked you’ve maintained your skill set to the level you have after all this time without game simulation.” He moseys around to the front of his desk, leaning back on the wooden surface while tapping his fingertips on the edge, holding all of our undivided attention.

  “Putting you on the team is a no-brainer for us at this point, but President Swaffer wants to meet with both of us first thing Tuesday morning, since Monday is a holiday, about the stipulations of your reinstatement to the university,” he explains with a slight scowl. “I’m one hundred percent confident it will happen, but we need to find out if there are placement exams or anything else that needs to be done. Also, we have used all of our allotted football scholarships for this year, so you will be responsible for your own tuition.” He stops and waits for me to acknowledge his last statement.

  “That won’t be a problem at all, Coach,” I assure him.

  “Excellent,” he exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Now, I heard the boys say something about a cookout today on campus, and I absolutely think you should go and build a relationship with your new teammates. I understand you probably don’t want to hang out with an old guy like myself, so as long as you’re staying with one of them, I have no problem with that; just make sure you’re studying the playbook and that you meet me here at eight o’clock sharp Tuesday morning so we can walk over together.”

  “Absolutely. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” I stand up and shake his hand as well as the rest of the coaches in the room, thanking each one of them.

  Before I leave the room, he adds one last comment. “You’re not an eighteen-year-old kid, McKay, so I don’t feel the need to babysit you, but be warned—once the media gets a whiff you’re here, it’s going to be a madhouse and they will bring up what happened a couple of years ago. We need you to be strong, physically and mentally. Don’t let them rattle you.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “Now go have fun.”

  I nod with a big grin then stride outside, where Mo is waiting for me.

  “It looks like I’m free to go with you this afternoon, and if the offer still stands, I’d love to crash on your couch until next week when I can get a place. I just need to swing by Coach’s place later to pick up my suitcase,” I say, nearly bursting with joy over the events of the last twenty-four hours.

  “No worries, man. You’re my quarterback now; it’s my job to keep you safe.”

  As we walk across the parking lot to his truck, I’m afraid my insides are going to burst with pure excitement; not to mention, I’m still in disbelief over the events of the last twenty-four hours. The minute I’ve got my seatbelt on, I log in to my email on my phone and nervously type out a message to Bristol, hoping she gets it sooner than later.

  “RISE AND SHINE, Sleeping Beauty.” Alyvia bounces on her knees in my bed, jarring me awake. Her voice is way too chirpy for this early in the morning. “How was your date last night?”

  Grumbling, I roll over and bury my head under the pillow, hoping she’ll go away if I ignore her.

  “Come on, Bristol. Tell me you’re tired and irritable ‘cause you were up all night bumping uglies with city-boy stockbroker,” she urges, annoyingly poking me in the ribcage.

  The pillow goes flying off my head as I shoot straight up, glaring at my soon-to-be strangled best friend. “It wasn’t a date,” I bite out harshly, “and there wasn’t bumping of anything, especially not uglies. Kayden is my friend, nothing more.”

  “Calm your tits, woman. You don’t have to take your sexual frustration out on me.” She falls back flat on the bed, keeping her eyes locked on mine. “I understand you fell in love with some guy while you were on your trip,” her expression softens, “but you aren’t in St. Lucia anymore, hun. It’s time to live here, with the people who exist in your real life, not a memory of some douche who never even attempted to contact you again.”

  I sigh with exasperation. What is everyone’s deal with telling me what it’s time to do in my life and when? No one knows what I’m feeling, and I’m tired of it. Much like Kayden’s ‘talk’ last night, her points are valid, and I know she only wants to see me happy and fully enjoying life, but she doesn’t really understand. Neither of them do.

  Davis wasn’t just some guy. He was a game-changer, and I’m not talking about in a football sense; he altered my life in a way I never thought was possible. He freed me from the invisible restraints of undeserved guilt I allowed to imprison me for way too long. And I can never forget him.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Lyv,” I say remorsefully, lying back down on the bed, facing her. “I’m tired and crabby, and I really don’t feel like having this conversation right now.” Or ever.

  She smiles and reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “No worries, B, but please know I only want the best for you. Things have been different this year with me spending all my time with Lucky, and with you doing a shitty job of pretending you’re not moping around. I just don’t want us to drift apart as friends.”

  “Never.” I smile back, thankful I have a friend like her in my life.

  Although we’ve only been friends for a little over a year, Alyvia is as close as I’ve ever had to a sister. Inseparable from the day we met, she’s never made me feel like a pity case because of what I went through as a child, though she’s always been empathetic to my situation and tried to help me better myself. And in return, I do the same for her—having money and gifts thrown at you can cover up the loneliness and lack of affection for only so long. I offer her my time and attention, truly caring about what she has to say, which is what she so desperately lacks and needs.

  “Good. So are you still going to the BBQ with us this afternoon?” she asks hopefully.

  I lift my head from the mattress and glance over at the clock on my nightstand, noting
it’s a little past eleven. “Yeah, I don’t have a choice,” I reply with a scowl. “I promised Kayden I’d take him to it last night, even though it’s kinda weird. I’m not sure why in the world he’d want to hang out a college get-together.”

  She scoots up to a sitting position and shrugs her shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe he wants to prove to you he’s young enough to still have fun like you do, or maybe he’s tired of hanging out with a bunch of tight asses and just wants to let loose where no one knows who he is.”

  “Well, either way, I don’t plan on staying long with him. I’m supposed to pick him up at his hotel at three, and hopefully, I’ll be dropping him back off no later than six or seven. I may come back alone after, if you guys are still there.” I watch, not moving as she slides off the bed and heads towards the door. “God, I’m such a bitch. Aren’t I?”

  Giggling hard, she shakes her head. “No, you’re not, and that sounds like a plan. Lucky is picking me up around three, too. Do you know where Mo is or how he’s getting there?”

  “They had an emergency team meeting and practice today that was closed to the media,” I answer, recalling what he’d told me late last night as I was falling asleep. “He said he’d head over when he got out and meet us there.”

  “Cool. I’m gonna make some coffee and study a bit until it’s time to get ready,” she announces before slipping out of my room.

  I know I need to get up and moving—I always feel more energized once I’m dressed—so I begrudgingly will myself to roll out of bed and shuffle my feet to the bathroom. A nice, long hot shower is exactly what I need to wash the sleepy funk off. I know better than to stay up as late as I did, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Mo I was tired, and all he wanted to do was talk about the game.

  After standing motionless under the heated spray for at least five solid minutes, I scrub from head to toe, shave everything that needs shaving, and hop out of the shower feeling one hundred percent improved. Stepping into my old faithful, cutoff jean shorts and pulling on a pale yellow Pearl Jam tank top, I braid my hair into pigtails and throw on a thin coat of mascara and lip gloss.