After The Snap (11 page)

Maddox thumped him again, his mouth set in a thin line. “Mercer, you’ve proven yourself in practice and in the preseason. Now it’s real. You know what to do. Keep your head in the game, there’s nothing but this right now. You got it? Nothing but the football, this game, and the men on the field.”

Seth nodded, his breath almost coming in gasps. He had to calm down or risk freaking out. “Yes, sir,” he stated after he blew out a breath.

“Now go out there and kick some ass.”

Maddox slapped him on his butt as he ran out to the field, going straight to the huddle. The Packer’s line was tough this season, and he knew he needed to get rid of the ball fast, but he had to have a play that would give his team the advantage. He couldn’t just toss the ball any which way. Yes, he was nervous as hell, but he could do this.

The guys gathered around, a few of them looked spooked. Having a teammate break a bone right in front of your eyes must be scary. Having the star quarterback break a bone when you were supposed to be protecting him must be a total mind fuck. He thought about going long on the speech, getting motivational, but this team needed a quick boost to their confidence, and he was going to deliver just that.

“Let’s kick some ass,” Seth yelled and the guys all whooped and hollered. Their mood changed. Excitement bubbled through them. He only hoped they would be excited with his passing.

The crowd roared and lights flashed. Being in this stadium, all of these people watching, was almost overwhelming. His face was burning like a wildfire, strong emotions pumped through him, but he shut down the stray thoughts tempting him to freak out. A cold calm ripped through him and his mind scattered, then focused.

Everything narrowed down to this moment on the field. The crowd was gone, the coaches no longer there. The rest of the team was as far from his mind as Venus. The only people in the world he could see or hear were the twenty-one other men on this field. Seth drew in a unhurried breath through his nose and let it go slowly. His heart rate slowed, and he was down to only caring about himself and the ten other men on his team who were on the field at that moment. Nothing else mattered, not even the guys on the defensive line trying to get his attention. He ignored it all, focusing on his space, his team, his game.

His center, Will, palmed the ball and Seth moved in close, the back of his hands touching the insides of Will’s thighs. Seth scanned the opposing line like he would look at choices on a menu, taking in their size, their positions, their angry scowls. He knew these players, had studied them at great lengths since making the team. He knew deep in his heart that his team could win if they got the jump on the defensive line.

Seth drew in a deep breath, time slowing until everything bled away again, and all that mattered was he and his ten. The earth shifted and his heart filled. This one moment was emblazoned in his mind, the possibilities of plays zipping through his thoughts. Then he knew what to call. He saw the whole play come to completion.

One more breath, then he called out, “Fifty-one bolt,” to the right, then again to the left, his voice ringing out across the field.

Will snapped the ball, his handoff perfect. Seth jogged back three steps, his mind clearing as he looked for Wayne, his receiver. Wayne ran into the open at least ten yards ahead of the opposing team, his gait solid and his stature perfect. Seth smiled a little before he let the ball go but he held his breath as he watched it fly, counting the seconds in his head, praying he’d judged correctly.

One one thousand.

The ball arched a little as it sailed straight to Wayne.

Two one thousand.

Wayne turned just a bit, his head angling as he watched the ball.

Three one thousand.

Wayne plucked the ball from the sky, tucking it close to his body. The catch was epic and finally Seth could hear the crowd going crazy, their shouts and screams enough to make his ears hurt. He watched the referee instead of Wayne, looking for him to hold up his hands. It seemed like forever as he waited, then the referee lifted both arms signaling a touchdown.

More than pleasure, more than excitement, more than satisfaction ripped through Seth. This was the accumulation of everything he’d done up until this moment. All of the practices, the missed nights out with friends, working his ass off, the time spent away from his parents, it had come to this one moment, and without a doubt, it had been worth it. Not for the fame or the money, but because he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. His first pass in a regular season NFL game—hell, his first play in a regular season game, and he’d aced it, scoring a touchdown.

Seth smiled and did a little fist pump as he ran off the field. Slaps to his back were followed with taps to his head. He removed his helmet, his lips stretched wide in a smile. Maddox came over to him and held out his hand.

“Hell of a first play in regular season, Mercer. Good job. They’re going to adjust to your abilities. The good thing is, they don’t really know what you’re capable of. Hell, we don’t even know what you’re capable of. You’re a wild card, an unknown. We have the advantage. Now, let’s talk about what else you can do.”

Seth nodded and drank from the bottle of water that was shoved in his hand. The extra point was scored and they were tied. The Chargers defense was on fire, and it wasn’t long before he had the ball back in his hands. He ran plays, almost got hit once, but sidestepped the guy, threw the ball a few times, opted for a handoff at other times, and had a blast. The game was a paradigm for life, with struggles and victories, but most importantly, more so than the score on the board, was the drive to keep pushing forward. Someone once told him that if you lost your drive, you lost the game, and today he totally understood that thought.

By the middle of the fourth quarter they were ahead by twelve points and he was getting tired. He hadn’t lost his edge, but he was unprepared for how emotional being in an NFL game was compared to playing college ball. Even playoff games in college didn’t come close to how this felt.

He relaxed, allowing the atmosphere to soak in, and that was the first time he really heard their taunts. Words were spewed at him and they stuck. Fucker, cocksucker, sissy boy, faggot, and ass licker were tossed his way, aimed directly at his soul and his heart squeezed. That’s when he choked. Doubts played through his mind, trampling over his confidence like a dog let loose in a flower garden, pissing on his mood. He lost his will to press forward, instead all he wanted to do was drop to the ground, curl in a ball, and ignore the assholes. Ripped out and tossed to the dogs, his carefully constructed psyche was trashed when his pass was almost intercepted.

He stumbled to his knees and stared at the grass, building walls in his mind to keep the bad out. Years of crushing doubt had been exposed as they taunted him, but he couldn’t lose his drive. So what, he was gay. No one knew, or he believed that no one knew. He needed his confidence back if he was going to play with the big boys. Being on this field, out here in the heat of this battle was brutal. He’d never had any illusions it would be easy and now was not the time to fold.

“Hey, Mercer, get it together.” Will stood in front of him, his toes at Seth’s knees.

Slowly, Seth stood and towered over Will, their gazes meeting as he shifted from one foot to another. Suddenly, he felt like he was back in practice and they were running their favorite plays.

“You’ve got this. You’re the best quarterback in the league. Don’t let their taunts get to you. Fuck them.” Will cupped the back of Seth’s neck and tapped their helmets together. “I fucking believe in you. Now kick some ass.”

Maybe Will knew, maybe he didn’t, but his words left an impression. His team had his back and none of them were there calling him gay. The other team was just talking smack, even if it was true. He was a cocksucker and fucking loved having a nice stiff rod in his mouth, sucking his way to heaven.
Fuck yeah, fuck you!
He screamed in his head. He could do this, could prove that cocksuckers weren’t quitters, or lazy. They were awesome, and could handle playing professional football, well, like a pro.

Seth moved behind Will, touching his back. He bent, setting up as he slid his hands between Will’s legs. The world melted away and all that was left was Will, the ball, and himself. He looked at the guys on the opposing team, seeing their mouths move, but their words didn’t matter because they just didn’t matter.

He looked right, catching Wayne’s eye. In his mind, this play would be the one that set the stage for his career in the NFL. It didn’t matter what they ran, all that mattered was that he connected on the play and people saw that doubt wouldn’t shake him. So what, he’d almost lost the ball, he could recover.

Seth drew in a slow breath and let it go before drawing in quick air, filling his lungs to yell over the crowd. “Eighty two dolt,” Seth screamed to the left, then to the right. Will snapped the ball and everyone moved at warp speed. One step back, then the next.

The defensive linemen were close, but his guys were holding. He spied Wayne and he knew…knew it would be perfect…knew he could do it…knew there was nothing wrong with him. Maybe it was smug of him to think they would connect before the ball was out of his hands, but it was almost like there was a line going from his hand to Wayne’s. Kind of like an old tin can telephone strung between his house and his best friend’s room when they were kids trying to prolong the twilight feeling before darkness had cloaked the neighborhood. He and Wayne may have been forty yards apart, but they were communicating, their intentions loud and clear. They had this.

Seth cocked back his arm and threw like he’d thrown no other pass before. The ball spiraled perfectly as it traveled from his hand in a path straight towards the place Wayne would be. The opposing team tried to jump and knock the ball out of the air, but Seth had let go in such a way that it was too high for them to reach. In other words, he’d thrown a truly perfect pass.

He watched, giving a slight skip, hop, and jump as he realized this had been a perfect play to run. The Packers weren’t anywhere close to Wayne and the ball was almost in his hands. Then Wayne’s feet slowed and he turned just as the ball approached him. Wayne jumped, his hands on the ball, pulling it close. He watched, tears in his eyes as Wayne ran, skirting the defense while he raced straight into the end zone.

He’d done it. He’d come back from almost losing the ball to scoring. The crowd was wild, his teammates were wild, and hell, he felt wild too. Slaps landed on his pads and Will grabbed his facemask, yelling at him, congratulating him on the win. He rushed off the field, his brain buzzing with happiness and wonder, excitement and thrills all rolled into one bunch of jumbled thoughts that had him feeling higher than high. Maddox was standing next to him, shaking his hand. He didn’t know what was being said, only that he’d connected after having his confidence shaken hard. He’d done it. The beast wasn’t on his back and he could breathe. The battle had been tough, but he’d come out the other side the victor.

The special team scored the extra point and not too long after the Packers took the field for a few more plays, the buzzer sounded. They’d won by twenty-seven points, a resounding victory. He felt like he’d won the lottery, and he guessed he had. This was his life now. Tens of thousands of people watching him play, screaming his name as men tried to hurt him. They would talk shit, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care because caring meant the assholes won. Their words were just words, nothing more.

As he walked into the locker room, he stopped and realized that dreams really did come true. He was playing the best sport in the world and getting paid. His life was amazing and he was gay. Of course no one really knew he swung that way, but that didn’t matter, not at the moment. He was living his dream, and he was gay. Today’s win had cemented his confidence, fulfilling a huge part of his aspirations to be a successful pro player. Now, he just had to keep his position as starting quarterback.

The Chargers could try to pull in a new person to fill the spot since their star had been injured. It would hurt, but he should expect them to think about looking. He was young, right out of college, and untested. Sure, he’d won one game, but could he continue playing on this level? He sure as hell hoped they gave him a chance to prove himself, because he’d do everything in his power to show he not only had the skill, but the heart to play NFL ball.

Flash bulbs went off, reporters shouted, their noise shocking. It was different than what he’d dealt with before. He’d known this was coming, but still it was strange. Giving an interview and being cordial was all part of the gig. The high he’d experienced during and after the game had begun to wear off. His energy lessened, an emotional crash hovered close. Honestly the last thing he wanted to do was talk, but he went over to the reporters, standing where they asked him to. He smiled and wiped his chin when the female reporter, Tina, told him he had a grass stain on his face. The lights were on, the camera rolling, his heart thundering, and he was set to give his sound bite.

“Mr. Mercer, how do you feel after your first regular season game win?” Tina asked.

Seth smiled at the camera and gave a quick laugh, his breath rushing out almost unexpectedly. “Well, um, Tina, it’s hard to describe. I guess it feels a little like Christmas, or maybe a birthday. It’s great. Better than great.”

“So, Mr. Mercer, when you almost threw the interception, what was going through your mind?”