Chapter 16 Tyler
The after-party is at Will’s this time—his parents are out of town, and he’s hidden every breakable object he can find and keeps racing around to put coasters under people’s drinks, but the vibes are still impeccable.
The music thumps through our veins and everyone keeps coming up to pat me on the back or ask me about a block or congratulate us on a play.
I feel like I’m part of one many-headed being, just another representative of the beloved Hamilton Lakes football team.
It really was a great game. Electric. I’d thought I was grateful for the chance to play again during preseason, but that’s nothing compared to the lightning in my veins at an actual game.
The bone-deep satisfaction of running the plays you’ve been practicing for weeks, putting your teamwork to the test. Not chasing glory, but protecting the rest of my guys.
I felt those same nerves at the start of the game—afraid of losing control, of getting so absorbed I would accidentally hurt someone.
Overwhelmed by the memory of bones crunching and limbs twisting in ways they weren’t ever supposed to twist. Nervous sweat prickling under my pads and guilt churning in my stomach.
But then Will clapped me on the shoulder, and I remembered I was here to support my new team. That I could trust our training. That my strength could be an asset again—and maybe pave the way to a future I hadn’t even dreamed of.
So, I took a deep breath and just… played.
I set block after block, the cracking impact of pads shaking awake something that’s been dormant inside me.
It’s one thing to hit my own team during practice—it’s another to hit your opponents in a game, to savor the satisfaction of clearing a path or foiling an attack.
Knowing you’re a part of a whole, working toward excellence.
And this team is excellent.
I can’t stop smiling. I finally feel like I’m back to my old self—back to something bigger than myself.
That’s the thing about football, when it’s working.
You can’t just do your own thing. Everything relies on meticulous strategy and planning, on knowing where the other guys are, on knowing how you fit into it all. On trusting them implicitly.
I missed that.
My whole body feels warm, and there are so many people approaching to say hi that my couch feels like a throne. In this moment, I don’t need anything else. I’m just so grateful to be part of another team.
Across the room, Ryan has an arm draped around Haley, who’s regaling him with the details of her latest soccer game.
Good. He’s moving on like we discussed, which is healthy—and great news for me.
Okay, I take it back. I can think of a few other things I might ask for this year. Maybe if Ryan’s busy with Haley, I can take things up a notch with Sabrina? Ask her on a real date?
Thinking about how she coordinated the Spirit Committee during the game makes my pulse skip a beat. Blue ribbons in her hair, white paint streaked on her cheeks, at the center of the excitement as always. Everyone from Hamilton Lakes orbiting around her.
The only thing that would make tonight better is if she were here.
I frown and check my phone. I hope she’s okay—it must suck to miss the after-party. Maybe she ate a bad hot dog? That would turn anyone’s stomach.
A notification pops up that I was tagged in someone’s story.
Naomi, who I already know is more chronically attached to her phone than anyone I’ve ever met.
My stomach swoops, getting that feeling of being talked about and hoping it’s for good and not evil—but when I open it, it’s just a selfie of a grinning Naomi and her friends at the Lakeside.
She’s tagged as many members of the team as will fit on her screen, and the text says, celebrating another win for the Hawks! ca-caw, motherfuckers!!!
I shake my head, laughing, and am about to put the phone away.
But then I notice who’s in the photo with her.
Harper, Marissa, Kara… and Sabrina.
My stomach drops. I thought she was sick? Either she’s feeling better… or she lied to me.
Is she avoiding me?
For the rest of the party, the congratulations and smiles can’t touch me.
I know it’s not fair to compare Sabrina to Kate—a clearly established friendship is very different from a girlfriend—but I can’t help thinking of the way Kate started ducking my calls and texts last spring.
The way spending time with me was suddenly something to avoid at all costs.
I keep pulling up the story to look at Sabrina’s smile.
It punches me in the gut every time. Like I’ve lost something I barely even had.
I spend Saturday in a funk. Ryan hovers around all morning asking if I want to hang out downtown or something, but even his puppy-dog eyes can’t motivate me to leave the house today.
In the end, he shrugs. “It’s cool. Haley wants me to go to the mall with her anyway, get my opinion on her homecoming dress. Who am I to say no?”
I mumble something about another rain check—those are adding up—too grateful for the solitude to feel guilty for more than a second.
I turn my phone off so I don’t see anything else from either Sabrina and her friends or my team back home—that’s the last thing I need today. But even putting on the Ohio State game isn’t much of a comfort. I can’t get lost in it the same way I usually do.
It’s stupid to get so in my head about a girl. Didn’t I learn my lesson last year?
But Sabrina’s not just any girl, a defiant, yearning part of me whispers.
I drag myself to a diner shift Sunday afternoon, but it’s a lot harder to smile at the regulars than usual. Everyone wants to congratulate me on the game, patting me on the back and praising my hits, but it all falls flat.
“You okay?” Harper frowns as she passes me on her way to the kitchen to pick up her orders. “Dawson only looked that tortured after losing a game.”
“I’m fine.” I smile tightly at her. “Just preoccupied.”
She watches me shrewdly for a minute before shrugging. “Okay, well, let me know if you need to talk.”
I keep the smile on my face until I head outside to take my break. Yeah. Talking. Last year I would’ve had a dozen people to talk to, friends and family I trusted. But this year?
The only person I’ve started to feel that way with is Sabrina.
I tap my phone awake and consider calling home.
The Thompsons are great, but they’re not my parents.
But what would I say? I’ve been talking to this girl, but she lied to me so she could get out of seeing me at a party?
I snort a quick, derisive laugh. Mom full-on cried when she dropped me off with the Thompsons, and I know Dad’s been dealing with the fallout of last spring with John and his dad.
My phone has gone dark again, and I don’t reawaken it. The last thing Mom and Dad need is to worry about me adjusting healthily. This is my chance to start over—as far as they’ll ever know, it’s all going perfectly. They already have enough of my problems to deal with this year.
So I do my best to smile as I go back to work, thinking of Sabrina the whole time.
I’m still not myself when I go to practice on Sunday. It’s a sharp swing from the flow I felt at Friday’s game.
I play so badly, Will actually pulls me over at the end of practice. He frowns, looking me deep in the eye. “Bro. You okay?”
I avert my gaze. “Other than playing like shit? Fine.”
He edges to the right so he’s directly in my line of vision again. “You sure? Because you’re playing like something’s on your mind. You fucked up a bunch of drills that you could’ve done in your sleep last week.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I’ll get it together. Trust me. I’m not going to be the weak link.”
“I do trust you.” Will frowns. The words should give me comfort, but they don’t.
“And you don’t need to apologize. Seriously, I care about the guys on my team.
If something’s getting in the way of your playing, it means something’s getting in the way of your life.
And you don’t need to get it together alone.
That’s what your team is for.” He pauses, looking me in the eye intently.
In a way that almost makes me believe him.
“So, I’m going to try again—anything wrong? Anything I can help with?”
I waver for a long moment. Part of me wants to spill it all out—the way Sabrina’s avoiding me, my fear I messed up something fragile between us—but I swallow it right back down. I know better than to get too vulnerable with people I’m not sure I can trust.
But I’ve always known that the biggest battle in football is your own brain. Is my lack of trust getting in the way of my team? Football used to be about responsibility. About doing what you needed for the guys around you. And I was so all in for them, that was always the easy part.
Am I losing that this year?
I shake myself. “I’m fine,” I insist. “I’ll fix it by next practice. I swear.”
Because I have to. I’m not letting this chance slip away.
Will surveys me for a second, disappointment on his face. I wonder if he might push again—but then he shrugs, lets it go. “Okay. But remember, I’m here if you want to talk.”
I leave the locker room wrung out, exhausted, and disappointed.
And then I see Sabrina’s blond ponytail swinging jauntily just a few paces ahead as she makes for the parking lot from the athletics office.
“Hey! Sabrina!” I jog after her without thinking.
When she turns back toward me with a strained smile, I wince. Maybe this was a mistake.
“Hey, Tyler.” She’s wearing a fitted pink sweater, ripped jeans, and an expression that says, I’m having this conversation to be nice and I hope it doesn’t take too long.
Or at least, that’s what I’m afraid it says. But I don’t heed the warnings. In for a penny, in for a pound. “You feeling better?”
Her face flickers. With guilt? Irritation, wishing I’d leave her alone? “Yeah, a lot. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Oh, good.” But like a masochist, I say, “You made a quick turn for the better on Friday, yeah?” When her eyes widen, I add, “Naomi’s story… you felt good enough to go to the diner?”
She starts, then shrugs. Not meeting my eyes. Her arms are wrapped around her waist, and when I glance down, her feet are pointed away from me. Didn’t I read somewhere that’s a sign someone doesn’t want to be near you? “Yeah. Like I said, I started feeling a lot better.”
I watch her for a moment before giving myself a mental shake. Read the room, Tyler. She doesn’t want to explain to you, and she doesn’t owe you an explanation. If she was avoiding you, so be it. Let her.
So I shrug back. “Cool. Well… see you around.”
And I jog past her to catch up with Will. Sabrina’s not the only ride in this town.