Second and Short

by Michel Prince

  “Excuse me,” a woman’s voice called at Willeen while the woman’s claws circled her upper arm. “Who’s are you?”

  “Who’s what?” Willeen asked as she looked at the woman who may be wearing a jersey but she had it knotted on her belly to tighten it and show off her stomach and belly ring. The long maxi skirt she wore was flesh colored to match the Grizzly’s tan coloring. It clung to the woman’s ass as if one wrong move would tear it in half. Talk about not being able to breathe.

  “Which player are you sleeping with?” Her syrupy sweet tone seemed staged and Willeen didn’t know how to respond. “I know you’re not with the beast you’re wearing. Not even my girl LaLa would sleep with Dalton.”

  “Right, okay I’m going to step over there,” Willeen tried to step away, but the woman’s grip was stronger than she imagined. Plus, who holds tight when someone says they are stepping away? What kind of freaks do they have here?

  “Not yet love.” Love? “You’re new here, let me guide you.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “I can see that, is that what Dalton sees in you? Hips, ass, and a woman who can almost look eye to eye. What do you do?”

  “Do?” Willeen hadn’t ever felt so lost in her life. She had been in the woods for too long. The most she ever had to deal with was one person at a time. Not a group all and she found herself surrounded as the questions were getting thrown at her from every direction.

  “She would be clutch to add,” a voice said.

  “Oh yeah, a little bit of makeup and she’s good to go. What nice cheekbones.”

  “And that hair,” another said while running her fingers through Willeen’s ponytail. “Where did you buy this? Is it Indian hair? I have a guy on Michigan Ave that sells quality shit like this.”

  “Please, you know you wear that cheap horse hair shit,” another laughed.

  “Hello,” a man said as he jumped in front of Willeen and pulled her from the gaggle of women. He was shorter than her, with a head set and overly product ladened hair. “I’m going to need you to sign these papers.”

  The clipboard loomed in front of her as she stumbled to find where she was supposed to sign and why. “What is this?” she asked as her eyes were unable to focus on the words in front of her.

  “Basic release, nothing much.”

  “Release for what,” Willeen asked as her pen balanced ready to sign.

  “Look if you want to be in here you need to sign this.” The man had no patience for her.

  “Or what,” Dani bit and took the clipboard away from Willeen. “First off, that’s less than B level lines and its off script.”

  “Script?” Willeen questioned, but Dani held up her hand.

  “She can reshoot it,” he replied. “I’ll have a script ready to go by half time and we can just pretend it’s the start of the game. Come on Dani, if she’s really the blood thirsty bear of the gridiron’s woman I could see a full spin off.”

  “Spin off? Script?” Willeen was trying to patch the words together in search of what the man was offering. The foggy haze that happens when confronted with a ton of data at once had her trying to focus on an object she understood. Pen. She knew what a pen was. GOGS? Balancing the pen between her fingers she screwed her face to the side.

  “First off Bryceson, quit telling people they can’t be in here without signing a release. Not only is that a lie, but if you keep it up I’ll have a talk with Bill Cuemark and get you and your show tossed out of here. Trust me, the last thing Cuemark wants is to have two of his starter’s women being treated poorly for a set a benchwarmers whores.”

  “Who you callin’ a whore?” the first woman said as she stood up and began removing her huge hoop earrings.

  “The one who stood at attention when her title was announced,” Dani spat. “The cameras aren’t running, LaDonna.”

  “This has nothing to do with the cameras, my man loves me.”

  “That’s why he married you right? Oh wait, wasn’t last season’s cliff hanger if he was going to dump you for good?”

  “See, you watch.”

  “Only to induce vomiting. Now sit.” The woman and her entourage with women of every race followed suit. Unlike Dani and Matty’s wife who wore jeans and a jersey, these women were half dressed with heels Willeen only saw on the strip. “Now Bryceson, how about you take your little camera crew and stand in the corner.”

  “Are there going to be cameras here the whole time?” Willeen asked as her stomach knotted. “I can’t be caught on camera.”

  Dani’s eyes studied Willie’s and she gave her a nod before turning to Bryceson. “Everything with DeMonte, myself or Willie here better not show up on your show. I don’t care if she’s hanging out in the background. Blurring will not be enough.”

  “This is a public area.”

  “Out there is public,” Dani informed him as she pointed to the general seating. “In here, is for families to not be assaulted by you or your friends. My father’s lawyers have already spoken to you once, right?”

  “You know this woman has a mind of her own,” Bryceson countered. “Maybe she wants to be on GOGS.”

  “Good point.” Dani turned directly to Willeen who finally found herself coming back to the planet earth. “Willeen, do you want to be on the totally scripted reality show Girls of the Gridiron?”

  “Reality TV, no thank you.”

  “There you go,” Dani said as she spun back to Bryceson. “She wouldn’t fit in anyway. Did you hear her use the phrase thank you? It’s like she was raised with home training.”

  “I know you didn’t just go there, bitch,” LaLa chimed in this time. Now it was security from the show stepping in to protect them from the wrath of the benchwarmer’s girls.

  “Come on,” Dani said as she pulled Willeen to their seats. “Thank God for Rachel, I swear reality TV is destroying the world. She’s the best. The real wives are. Those things are just trying to get their fifteen minutes any way they can. The worst thing is they are tanking their player’s chances for a contract extension. The more air time they get the less the owner is happy.”

  “Why would they do it then?” Willeen asked as she flipped through a menu and tried to block out the prices.

  “It’s all about them, not their so-called love of their life.”

  “Where’s DeMonte?”

  “Rachel, Matt Bishop the quarterback’s wife, is watching him along with her three kids. Plus, they have a personal nanny. She’ll be over soon.”

  Rachel showed up right as a local artist sang the Star-Spangled-Banner. After being introduced, Willeen could see there was a large divide between all the women. Those who were considered serious sat by Rachel, who was the queen of the court. She let Willeen know all about the support system between the players’ wives and how they all looked out for each other. Since Willeen was with Dani, it was assumed she was in this group.

  “You and Dalton huh?” Rachel questioned after her second pretty pink drink. “Never saw that man ever being tamed.”

  “I told you the hype is just that,” Dani countered. “Hype. And hopefully we can get rid of his reputation. Willie, you could help him a lot.”

  “Help how?”

  “Marrying him.” Rachel had the black straw of her drink on the side of her mouth as she sucked back a shot of the liquor. “A woman like you, then you pop out a few kids and the world would know he wasn’t an animal anymore.”

  “What do you mean a woman like me?” The hair on the back of Willeen’s neck stood up.

  “One with class,” Rachel said with more sincerity than a nun. Willeen looked behind her, sure she couldn’t be talking about the axe wielding half-breed. “You’re fucking gorgeous and look at you wearing the perfect outfit for your debut.”

  “I can’t really debut.”

  “Why not?” Rachel questioned as she smoothed her blonde hair back into a ponytail as Dani appeared as interested in the answer.

  Willeen needed someone to talk to besid
es Stan. When was the last time she was allowed girlfriends? Junior high, maybe, but they all abandoned her when she sprouted up like an uncoordinated freak.

  “I have a bad ex. He doesn’t know where I am.”

  “How bad?” Dani asked. “On the stalker sliding scale?”

  “Nine and a half. And I only give him that half because he hasn’t found me this time.”

  “This time,” Rachel said as she waved her empty glass at the bartender for a refill. “How many times have you had to run away from him?”

  “Four. The first time I didn’t get away in time. I’ve been in hiding for almost a whole year this time.”

  “Did he beat you?” Dani asked. “Because I’m pretty sure Dalton could take him.”

  “Because he’s the blood thirsty bear? I don’t want to add to his reputation. Plus, that’s not the way Hector works. His hands don’t need to get dirty anymore.”

  “He’s already had years of it huh?”

  “To say it lightly.”

  “Screw him,” Rachel stated and Willie found out she was stone cold sober. The only thing in her drink was pop. “I’m the damn mama bear here, for this season at least, and you guys are all my cubs. No one messes with my babies.”

  Whether it was Rachel’s pledge to protect her or finally getting the weight of her situation off her chest Willeen could breathe better. Could this be her life? The women she was surrounded by were strong and protective. With the threat of trades and never knowing where they might be living season to season had them creating a bond. One that supports the men they truly love and the game that affords them a comfortable lifestyle. Unlike the GOGs in the back of the family suite who were constantly doing the same thing over and over until the take was right. Reality, right? Willeen shook her head then went back to the group of women who were commenting about the play on the field.

  “Did you just puke?” Rome asked Dalton as he walked back to his locker. “I mean, should I worry about you being pregnant?”

  “Rome the comedian.”

  “You don’t have the flu or something, do you?”

  “Dysentery. You’ll get the shits right about kick off.”

  “You tellin’ me I have something to look forward to, sweet.” Rome pulled up a chair and sat by Dalton.

  “Willie came down this morning.”

  “I know, Dani told me. They rode together.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that.”

  “She was at the game last week, why is this worse?”

  “Any woman can go to one game. This one she’s in the family suite. My parents are the only ones I’ve ever got tickets for there.”

  “Does this mean you’re going to play like shit?” Rome asked. “Because if so, puke one more time and tell the trainer you have the flu. You can’t cost me a game, especially against the Archers.”

  Cleveland had the worst record in the league. Even with their up and down season the Grizzly’s were still north of five hundred. Losing would shift that a bit too much and might knock them out of the playoffs.

  “I’m good man, I usually beast on an empty belly.”

  “Let’s go gentlemen,” Xavier Jackson, the tight end coach called and the men started to line up. Walking down the tunnel toward the end, they began to lock arm in arm five across and eleven deep. In the end of the line up were the defensive starters since they would be the ones introduced.

  Dalton was linked up with the offensive line as they started a growl. It echoed against the walls and his heart raced. He couldn’t remember the last time a regular season game made him this excited. Especially a non-conference game that should be a blow out, but for the first time in years he had something outside of himself to play for.

  Smoke blocked his view as sparks flew from the pyrotechnics. Far from the paper banner he ran through in high school. No longer did a thousand people constitute a good crowd. Now, if they didn’t hit sixty-thousand a community push would happen.

  The announcer got the crowd to their feet and the stomping could be heard above them. Dalton closed his eyes as his heart pounded in time to the drum line at the end of their glory line. Dmitri Yeltsvinick put one foot forward and the line moved as one. Starting the run with their arms locked until they had taken one step into the cold of the stadium. Breaking apart, but still in lockstep they ran onto the field with one arm raised high. It wasn’t until they joined the line at the end, did Dalton take a moment to look up into the second tier of seating where glassed in suites contained premium seating. Three were connected and although it cost more than a normal ticket Dalton hadn’t bought his allotted ones for years. Splurging on Willeen didn’t seem a waste. It was the cost of having family in his life again. A connection he missed.

  “Hey, Gresham,” Coach Tricket called. “You move to special teams and forget to tell me?”

  “Huh?” he asked then looked out on the field to see he’d not only missed the national anthem, he was still standing like a dumb ass inside the white lines. Stepping back, he shook his head as Rome glared at him. “I’m good.”

  “You’re sprung is what you are,” Rome said. “I’m making sure Dani brings this woman back to my house after the game. I gotta see her.”

  The ref’s whistle blew and the kicker for the Archer’s took off booting the football through the end zone. Kick off return ran through their routes and curved to the side when the back-judge’s whistle signaled the ball dead.

  Jogging out to the twenty, they huddled up with Matty still making the calls. A simple run block for Rome, but Rome seemed more focused on Dalton than their Quarterback.

  “Dalton,” he warned before they all lined up.

  With one hand in the dirt on the twenty-five, Dalton felt good. He hadn’t fucked up and gone to the traditional yard line for a touchback, the twenty. As Matty called out, Dalton’s focus was singular as he burst forward on three and blew the Archer’s defensive lineman back. Tomlinson, the left guard was so close for the first three yards with his man that their shoulder pads touched. It wasn’t until Dalton’s foot hit the thirty did he break away from Tomlinson and by eight yards down, the defensive lineman stumbled backwards causing Dalton to run him over. Finally done with his assignment, he could figure out where he was needed next. Rome had made it to the forty before the Archer’s secondary collapsed in on him and took him to the ground.

  Popping up off the turf, Rome pointed the football to Dalton before tossing it to the line judge. Jogging up to the huddle, Dalton listened for the next snap count and forgot about anything but the game. By halftime, the Grizzlies were up seventeen to ten and Dalton grabbed a water bottle as they headed into the locker room. The shift in temperature was nice, but he sat as close as he could to the door because he didn’t want to completely thaw.

  “Do I need to talk to your publicist?” Coach Tricket asked as he gathered the linemen together after Coach Marshall gave his halftime speech calling out their errors and strengths.

  “Who me?” Dalton responded after a felt the glare of his hardened coach’s stare.

  “Where the hell is the blood thirsty Gresham? The last two games he’s been missing, against the Mist I figured it was because it was your first one back, but I need you to rip a man’s head off.”

  “Has Matty been sacked from the left once?” Dalton countered as he stood up since the clock signaled they had five minutes until halftime was over. “Because last time I checked that’s my damn job, not baying at the moon.”

  Coach Tricket sucked in a hard breath before scanning Dalton from head to toe. “’Bout fuckin’ time. Saving your QB only to get a fifteen-yard penalty is about as useless as tits on a boar. I was ready to push for you to be released. Your jersey sales helped you the last three times I went to the front office. Don’t make me go again.”

  Dalton stared blankly unable to process Coach Tricket’s comment. He hadn’t said a thing to Dalton. New to the Grizzlies last year he hadn’t been one to rock the boat. Maybe that’s why his agent Carter had been ch
anging his branding.

  By the end of the game the Grizzlies increased their lead to twenty-four and as he walked off the field his eyes once again drifted up to the suite.

  “Forget it,” Rome said as he slapped Dalton on his shoulder. “If I know Dani, they’re already heading home.”

  “Why?” Dalton asked as they headed to the locker room. “Because you didn’t get in at the end?”

  “Nope, she watches till the end, but then she books it. Especially since GOGs started filming in there. Dani stayed late one time and they spent the whole time reacting to plays that involved their men.”

  “Recreating a reaction?” Dalton laughed.

  “Of course, for reality sake.”

  “Who’s the dumb asses dating those girls?” Dalton asked.

  “Fuck if I know,” Rome replied and tossed his shoulder pads into his open locker. “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah it does, because of those fifteen minutes of fame bitches cause one of our guys to get off their game, I’m gonna kick their ass.”

  “The girl or the player?” Rome asked while retrieving his soap and towel. “Because I thought you were supposed to be softening your image.”

  “Rome,” Coach Marshall yelled across the locker room. “Make it short, they want you for the press conference.”

  “God damn it,” Rome grumbled under his breath before calling back to the coach. “Alright.”

  “Was Dani planning on bringing Willie to my house?”

  “Now I’m your damn social secretary?” Rome replied. “Look, I have to hit the shower.”

  “Yeah, get going superstar.” Dalton unlocked the small locker they had inside the large open one and pulled out his phone.

  Hey babe. He shook his head wishing texts could be pulled back.

  Hey yourself.

  You going to Rome’s?

  My bags are there. Wish I would have known I wouldn’t get to see you outside of your uniform.

  Dalton felt his cock begin to swell as he thought of Willie’s long, lithe body laid out on the bed with the sun setting in the picture window.