French Fries with a Side of Guys

by Rebekah L. Purdy

  Mr. Mason, the assistant coach, would be working with her group, and right off the bat, he questioned everyone as to what position they were considering going out for.

  “What about you, Ms. Carter?” The assistant coach had his notepad out, recording everyone’s desired position.

  She chewed her bottom lip, her fingers playing with her chin strap. “Quarterback,” she said.

  The boys around her gasped in surprise and gave her sympathetic looks. Even the coach raised an eyebrow.

  “You do realize you’ll be up against Chance Montgomery, don’t you?” Neal Visser whispered next to her.

  Payton shrugged. “Yep, but don’t underestimate me. My big brother’s the varsity quarterback.” She grinned, hoping she appeared more confident than she was. All the guys chuckled, slapping her on the back and smashing their helmets into hers. She wasn’t sure what it was about guys and beating on each other—not that she wasn’t used to it, since she wrestled with her brothers all the time.

  “Okay, boys, line it up,” Mr. Mason called out. “Atkinson, I want you to play center and snap the ball to Carter on four,” he ordered before coming up next to Payton and the two wide receivers. “You’re going to run a simple post play.” He showed them the route on a small dry-erase board. “I want the defense to rush the quarterback, but no contact.”

  Mr. Mason blew the whistle, indicating they could start any time. Payton lined up behind Matt, securing her chin strap and putting in her mouthpiece. She peered around at her teammates before getting into her stance.

  “Blue forty-two, hut, hut, hut, hut,” she called out, taking the snap. She dropped back three steps then looked for her receivers. Damn. She watched as her intended receiver got tripped up and the defense came barreling after her.

  Payton ran out of the pocket, her eyes roaming the field. At last she spotted her other receiver wide open. She pumped her arm back and sent the ball spinning in a perfect spiral. It hit Neal right in the numbers.

  Neal ran it in for a touchdown then came back to her. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” He gave Payton a high five. “That was an awesome pass.”

  “Great job, Carter, you kept the play alive even though you lost your first target.” Mr. Mason smiled. “You’ve got some arm on you, young lady.”

  “Thanks, but I had some great blocks.” She felt as if she were on top of the world. Payton dared a glance at the sideline, where Marino and Bradshaw were giving her a thumbs-up. She could tell they were discussing the play in some detail and would probably have some long analysis for her at the end of practice.

  “Okay, line it back up, defense. Offense, huddle up.” The coach stared around the small group. “This time I want you to fake the handoff to Briggs then roll out to your left.” He showed the two receivers what routes he wanted them to run. “Two count, Carter.” He tapped the top of her helmet.

  Payton lined up behind Atkinson once more, and the ball was snapped. She rushed back, pretending to give the ball to the running back. Neal had gone farther out than he’d been told to, but she brought her arm back and watched the pass float upon the air. Payton stood motionless, pleading for the football to be on target.

  Neal jumped up, grasping the ball to his chest, before running the rest of the way to the end zone.

  “Woo-hoo!” She jumped up and down, probably just as astounded as everyone else about how far her pass had gone. She rushed to Neal and gave him a high five. “That was an amazing catch,” she all but gushed.

  “No—it was definitely the quarterback,” he said as they raced back down to the coach.

  They ran some more plays before the coaches had the whole team get back together again. “This was a good effort today. I’m very pleased with what I’m seeing out here. I want you to take four laps around then come back and take a knee.”

  Payton rushed around the goal posts, spotting Chance coming up alongside her.

  “Hey.” He grinned. “So how was it?”

  “Not too bad. And you?” She wondered how long she’d be able to talk before she needed every breath to keep running.

  “Piece of cake.” He winked. “I see your brothers are out in full force.”

  Payton nodded, trying to ignore the stab of pain in her lungs. Her body screamed to sit down and rest. But she didn’t want to wuss out, so she pushed harder. “Yeah, my very own cheering section. Of course they all just want to give me pointers.”

  “My dad’s like that too. Sometimes he freaks me out more than the coaches and games do.” They passed a few slower runners in front of them. “So what other kinds of things do you like besides football?”

  Payton considered pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and that Chance was really talking to her. Was he just making small talk, or was he legitimately interested in her?

  “Any sport really, hanging out with my brothers, hiking up by the falls, watching movies, and playing video games.” She peered over at him.

  “Sounds like we’ve got a lot in common. Maybe we could hang out sometime. I mean if you wanted to,” he added quickly, staring at her.

  This time Payton almost stopped running, feeling like Luke Skywalker learning to levitate things with the Force. Chance Montgomery wanted to hang out with her. Oh. My. God. She had no idea what to say next. Other than hell yeah, she’d like to hang out! But she didn’t want to seem overeager. Then again, if she didn’t show enough interest, he might think she didn’t like him.

  “That’d be cool,” Payton said at last. Did that sound lame? Maybe she should have said definitely or something that made it sound like she was more excited? Her face grew hot and it had nothing to do with the heat or overexertion from running.

  “Carter, Montgomery, why don’t you quit talking and run?” the coach yelled, even though they were within the top five runners. “This isn’t debate-team tryouts!”

  “Catch you later.” Chance pulled out in front of her, and her eyes went directly to his butt. What? He looked super hot in his football pants. Besides, it wasn’t like guys didn’t check out girls all the time.

  But not wanting to be outdone, Payton dashed after him, feeling like her lungs were going to burn right out of her body. If she turned around, she’d probably see a trail of smoke billowing behind her and half of her body parts scorched to ash on the ground.

  Once they all got back in, the players took a knee, waiting for their coach to speak. Payton used that time to try and catch her breath—and not keel over.

  “Tomorrow we’ll be doing full contact, so make sure you have your pads on. We’ll also be going with a longer practice in order to give you guys your positions tomorrow. So be ready for a bit of a wait.” He waved them off.

  Payton grabbed her helmet and hurried off the field to where her family waited. “You were great, kiddo.” Her dad kissed her sweaty forehead then gave her a big hug.

  “Yeah, you definitely showed you could hang with the boys,” Marino teased. “I think you’re going to give Chance a run for his money.”

  “Speaking of Chance, I saw you two talking.” Bradshaw flung her up over his shoulder. She groaned. “I think me and Marino should probably know what he was saying. Just in case we need to have a talk with him.”

  Yeah. That wasn’t happening. She wanted her brothers to stay far away from him.

  Bradshaw bounced her up and down. “Hey, put me down, jerk.” When she realized he wasn’t going to put her down she punched his back until he set her back on the ground. “He said that maybe we could get together sometime.”

  “See? We told you trying out for the team would catch his attention,” Marino said. “Maybe Brad and I should start our own dating service.”

  “Or not.” Payton rolled her eyes, glad to have survived her first day of practice. Not to mention she’d managed to talk to Chance Montgomery. Hopefully tomorrow would go just as smoothly.

  As she tied up her cleats, Payton let her eyes gaze out across her backyard to where the tree house stood. She remembe
red helping her dad and brothers build it when she was nine. It’d been a kind of bonding project after their mother passed away, something to take their minds off of the loss. But nothing ever would. It was always there, in the back of their minds. Payton forced a smile as she ambled toward the front of the house, where her brother was already waiting for her.

  Bradshaw waved, eyeing her. “What’s up? You look kind of upset.”

  “I’m fine. Just nervous.” She shielded her face from the sun. “I want to do well. Plus, it’ll be full contact, and I’m pretty sure a couple people will be gunning for me.” She recalled some of the unhappy whispers about a girl trying out for the team. Most of the guys seemed okay with it, but there were others who would make sure she got a good taste of the defense.

  “No different than a game. Just play smart—heck, Marino’s taken some poundings and always bounces back. You’re tougher than you look. Now quit worrying, you sound like a girl.” He laughed, jumping into the car.

  “So where’s everyone else?” She noticed the empty driveway.

  “Helping Dad open this morning. Don’t worry though, they’ll all be there by the end of tryouts.”

  Payton ignored the heat of the day and focused on what she had to do to make the team. She remembered something her father had always told her brothers before big games, and it was as if Brad had been reading her mind, because soon he started in with the very quote.

  “It’s not about the people, Payton, it’s about the heart and love of the game,” he said in his best fatherly imitation. “If your heart’s in it, then you’ll do well. If you doubt yourself, then you’ll probably falter. You determine what kind of game you’re going to have. Or some shit like that.” He grinned.

  Payton busted out laughing. “Wow, that was um—well, it was something. Next time, I think I’ll wait for Dad’s version.”

  It didn’t take too long for them to get to the field, and Payton took a deep breath before moving out of the car. Her brother carried a small cooler filled with her water and some snacks. She felt like she was going on a picnic rather than to football tryouts.

  “Morning, Ms. Carter.” Mr. Youngman waved her over to where some of the other freshmen were already stretching out. “Bradshaw did you come to cheer or help out?” The coach chuckled.

  “I can lend a hand if you need it.” Brad set her stuff down and went over to the coach.

  “Why don’t you start getting the footballs and cones set out for me, as well as some of those yellow practice jerseys?”

  Payton watched her brother for a moment, until she caught sight of a tall, brown-haired figure swaggering across the fifty-yard line. It was Chance, followed closely by his older brother and dad. He plopped down next to her.

  “Hey.” He seemed almost surprised that she was back.

  “Hey yourself.” She toyed with a blade of grass. “I see you brought your own cheering section today. Maybe if they’re loud enough they can out-yell mine.”

  Chance let out a low, melodious laugh, and Payton sighed. She was in love—okay, maybe more like borderline obsessed—but she just couldn’t help it. He was movie-star hot, funny, and not to mention a jock.

  “Ms. Carter.” The coach snapped her out of her daydream. “I’ve called your name twice now, so unless you’ve changed your name overnight I suggest you get over here.”

  “Uh, sorry, Coach.” With her face glowing brighter than a fireworks display, she rushed over to where Matt and Neal were already waiting. Payton realized they were breaking back up into their teams from yesterday. Only this time, she’d have the head coach watching, not his assistant.

  “I want you guys in the positions you were playing yesterday,” Mr. Youngman said while they lined up.

  He had them run a few plays while he jotted down notes and switched out a couple players from the other group.

  “Montgomery, I want you to come over here and run the receiver position for me,” he called out. “Carter, just stay where you are for now.”

  Payton ran some passing plays, two of which ended in touchdowns. So far, the guys hadn’t even touched her when they were blitzing and tackling. It was like they were afraid to hurt her. Not that she didn’t mind them not trying to kill her, but she didn’t want them to go that easy on her.

  Coach must’ve noticed too, because a moment later he decided to call over another center and let Matt take a rest. “Lyle, I want you to snap a few balls over here. The count is three, Carter.”

  Payton hesitated a moment, not liking the new center’s stance. He wasn’t doing it right. Not like Matt.

  “You’re waiting for the snap, Carter, not delivering a baby,” the coach hollered. “Get your hands in position.”

  “Red thirty-eight, red thirty-eight, hut—hut—hut,” she called out, but before she even got to the second count, Lyle dropped the ball behind him and Payton rushed to jump on it, followed by half the football team. For a moment she felt like a sandwich, a very squished sandwich. But she held tight to the ball, not letting anyone take it from her. Now all she had to do was wait for the guys to get off of her and hope by that time she didn’t have a collapsed lung.

  “That, my boys, is how you recover a fumble.” The coach grinned. “And don’t be afraid to tackle or sack Carter. She’s a football player, not a cheerleader.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” Payton rolled her eyes and saw Chance and Matt snickering.

  “Okay, why don’t you run two laps, then have a seat while Coach Mason and I discuss a few things?”

  Payton took off at a sprint and saw that the rest of her brothers watching from the sideline. She hadn’t even seen them arrive but was glad they were there. She’d never been more anxious in her life, except for when she had to go in and buy her first bra. Payton had had to ask the saleslady for help because there was no way she was going to have her daddy or one of her obnoxious brothers come in with her.

  “Good luck.” Matt fell in beside her.

  “You too,” she said. “Although I don’t think you’ll need it. You’ve been kicking ass at center. And Lyle’s got nothing on you. Just ask my rib cage.” She smiled at him.

  “Yeah, I can’t believe he screwed up that count. If I’d have been in, I wouldn’t have let those boys through,” he said, matter-of-fact. “My brother came out today too.” Matt pointed to Dave, who was standing with Marino and Bradshaw. “I know he’ll give me a hard time if I don’t make it.”

  “Quit slacking and run,” the coach bellowed, sending them both charging forward like wild stallions on an open prairie.

  “Easy for him to say, he isn’t the one out here killing himself.” Payton groaned, catching a glimpse of Chance just ahead of her. And that was all the encouragement she needed to speed up. Soon she’d left Matt behind, falling in next to her crush.

  “Hey, you’re slowing down, Montgomery,” she teased, her head feeling as if it had a bowling ball on top of it rather than a helmet.

  He cast her an amused glance, his lips turned up at the corners. “Is that a challenge, Carter?”

  “Nah, just an observation.” She pushed herself to speed up just a little bit more.

  “Maybe I should have you come over to my house sometime this week, and we’ll see if you can swim as fast as you talk.” He burst forward, leaving her behind him.

  Holy crap. He’d totally just asked her out. Well, kind of. But she needed no other encouragement than that to catch back up to him.

  “Name the day,” she said, gasping for air, as they both crossed the finish line.

  “Why don’t we chat about it after tryouts?” Chance smiled.

  Winded, she nodded then walked around in order to catch her breath again, trying to fight off the waves of nausea. I will not throw up, she chanted in her mind, closing her eyes to prevent her body from using its upchuck reflex.

  Being the dutiful big brother he was, Bradshaw brought her a bottle of water.

  “Thanks. I think I sweat out every ounce of fluid in my body.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, and you don’t smell good either.” Marino came up alongside them. “Good luck, sis.” He gave her arm a squeeze as the coaches came over, gathering the team back together.

  “I wanted to say that all of you put forth a tremendous effort during tryouts this week, and it was nice to see a lot of new faces. Some of the choices we’ve made have been in hopes of creating the best team we’ve ever had here in Aller Falls. There’ll be a few of you who won’t get the position you were gunning for, but rather one that I feel better fits you. I want to develop each of your talents to find your greatest potential,” Coach Youngman began.

  Payton gave a worried wave to her father, who was hovering near the back of the crowd, and he winked back, holding up his hand, which had its fingers crossed. Okay, no matter what happened, she’d be fine with it. She wouldn’t mind even landing a second-string quarterback position or really any position. As long as she got on the team. Her hands trembled as she waited. She took several deep breaths, her chest tightening.

  “When I read off your name and position, I want you to come get your jersey and stand next to me until the whole team is read off.” He gestured to the table that’d been set up with jerseys.

  “Matt Atkinson, center,” the coach called out.

  Payton let out a loud whoop for him, giving him a high five as he passed by. “Neal Visser, wide receiver.” And on he went, causing the nerve endings in her body to fray with every moment that dragged by. She cast a worried look at her siblings and dad. What if she got cut?

  “Starting quarterback, Payton Carter.” Coach Youngman smiled when he said her name.

  No way. No freaking way. She’d done it. Payton couldn’t believe it as she jumped up and rushed over to her teammates. She could hardly hear over her brothers’ loud cheers and hollers. But the moment she peered over at Chance, she felt her heart plunge to her feet. She watched his face go crimson and the disbelief that washed over him.

  Payton had only intended on making the team, not totally stealing Chance’s spot. Sure she’d been competing with him, but in what reality did she actually believe she’d beat him? She’d only wanted an opportunity to flirt with him, to get him to ask her out. Heck, if anything, she thought she’d be his backup. But now she saw the error of her ways.