Chapter 11
Johnson
The ladies trapped me. In the best possible way.
Grace and me solo in my house, coming up on Sunday.
In the meantime, it’s only Monday afternoon, and I need to make this a great week.
The second week of training camp is when we start practicing advanced schemes, so I’ve got to be sharp in order to ensure the rest of the guys get the types of reps they need.
We’re also going to begin contact drills with pads on. Except for us QBs of course—we’re off limits for defenders in practice, marked by a yellow pinnie.
Mind you, that doesn’t stop one of the rookie linebackers from laying me out by accident on Thursday.
“What the fuck,” says one of the back-up offensive linemen in response, whipping his head where he sees me lying on the ground.
As a crowd of my protectors—AKA the offensive line—circle the rookie, he looks at me, horrified.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Johnson.” It’s a massive no-no to tackle your quarterback in practice.
I take stock of any injuries, and I’m relieved to find nothing feels off. Just a bruised ass, maybe.
Landon and some other defenders start to get involved as the o-line continues to chirp at the rook.
Time for me to step in before this escalates.
“No problem.” I stand up slowly, dusting myself off as I go. “No harm from it. Just watch yourself.”
Landon studies me, looking me up and down to make sure I’m truly okay. I nod, and he pivots, pulling the rookie out of the fray.
“Alright, guys, the moment’s over,” I say to the hovering linemen in the meantime. “I’m fine.”
The last thing we need is the offense and defense to be at odds.
One of my closest friends among the linemen, Carter, turns to the group. “You know Landon will handle his rookie.”
And this right here is just one more reason why my relationship with Landon—it can’t go bad. We represent the two pillars of the team, offense and defense. Not only supporting each other as best friends, but helping the whole team click.
“You’re done for the day,” Marshall tells me, with a glare toward the rookie’s back.
“Shit, okay.” I understand not wanting to risk me getting truly injured, but it sucks not to be out there like the rest of the starters.
With the half-way point past us for training camp, the cuts are coming fast and furious. The coaching team liked what they saw from Tony and the second-year guy, so those two are officially my backups this year. The rest of the QB’s are gone.
“Tony, get in there,” Marshall instructs.
Later that night, Landon stops by my hotel room to make sure my injury isn’t bad. This isn’t the first time we’ve hung out in the evening this week, since we like to shoot the shit about practice and he needs someone to talk to about Rori.
When he comes in, he takes in all the scraps of paper spread across the room.
“I’m memorizing all the new plays,” I explain. “Drawing them out myself so they really stick in my head.”
He nods. I did the same thing at Alabama. “So, you okay?”
“Yes, thankfully my ass took the brunt of the fall. It’s a little sore, but I’ll be fine.”
Landon knows I’d shoot straight with him if I wasn’t alright. We’ve never hidden things in our friendship, even the darker or salacious issues.
Well, other than that one night during Grace’s spring break trip.
A thought which, sitting here, triggers my unease at how things are playing out with Grace now.
We’re texting.
We’re sharing personal details about ourselves.
She’s coming to my house on Sunday, alone.
And I’m so fucking attracted to her, it hurts.
It was so much easier when she was avoiding me. But that’s not where things stand now. To be honest, I don’t want them to go back.
And while I’m dancing on a thin tightrope of permissible behavior with Grace, Landon’s concerns about some guy taking advantage of her—that type of scenario is not what’s floating around in my mind.
Instead, the compulsion I’m fighting is simpler…
I just want to be around her. Kiss her—eventually more physically, sure—but I also want to be with her. Talk, get to know her better, spend time together.
One challenge is that if Landon knew I was into her, I don’t think he’d believe I have her best interests at heart. He knows too much about all the years I’ve messed around with women casually. In fact, that’s the only behavior with women he knows from me.
Of course, I’ve never told him about the night with Grace in college, and I’ve forgiven myself for that, mostly. The screwed up part is that it’s exactly the behavior he would probably expect from me now, today.
All of this adds up to a healthy dose of guilt and discomfort.
Buzzzzz. My phone goes off on the desk, and since only people who know me have my cell, I go check the message.
BAILEY: You think Landon’s seen this?
Landon’s still standing here in my room, chatting away. What’s going on?
I open Bailey’s text and—shit. Attached is a link to an article from First and Ten magazine about Rawley, insinuating he’s a screw-up at school, even while continuing to dominate on the field.
The headline is RAWLEY BATTLE – UNLIMITED PROMISE OR HUGE LIABILITY. Accompanied by a photo where he looks like he’s high as a kite. Not good.
I quickly text the link to Grace with a message—“with Landon if you want us to call”—and then interrupt Landon.
“I hate this, man. But I need to show you something.”
As he reads the piece, he begins to flip out. “This kid, I swear to god. He’s going to screw up his whole future.”
I try to keep a glimmer of hope alive. “Don’t jump to conclusions. You know how pictures can be manipulated.”
Suddenly, my phone is ringing. Oh shit. It’s Grace. I quickly mention to Landon that I texted her about the article before accepting her call.
“Hi Grace, putting you on the speaker with Landon.”
Landon looks confused. “Wait, why are you texting each other?”
You don’t have any reason to feel bad, I tell myself. Nothing’s happened…well, since college anyways…and you have her number because of the auction.
“Not the point right now,” I respond before letting them chat through everything. Soon Rawley joins them on the phone and makes it clear, like I’d speculated, that the photo is misleading and he hasn’t been using anything illicit.
Landon then goes into action, setting up a plan of attack with his PR rep. The two brothers will do a joint interview Sunday to try to clean up Rawley’s reputation.
“You’re a good brother,” I reassure him after he’s pulled all this together.
I feel bad for the Battle siblings, in different ways. But I also know that Landon will do everything in his power to protect Rawley.
As for Grace, she’s likely just going to worry about her little brother.
Once Landon leaves my hotel room, I can’t resist messaging her to check in. I need to confirm our plans for Sunday anyway.
JOHNSON: Hey, you okay? I wanted to make sure you’re not stressing too hard. I do think the plan will work.
GRACE: I’m okay, I appreciate you asking though.
JOHNSON: What time do you want to come over on Sunday? Is 9 too early?
GRACE: No, that’s good. See you then!
Her texts are so neutral in tone, and I try not to dwell on that. After all, they’re totally normal responses in context.
Neutral is not how I feel, however.
I let out a big breath, looking forward to Sunday.
My coping mechanisms for ignoring my pull to Grace just need to be stronger than ever before.
Landon’s sister. Landon’s sister. OFF-FUCKING-LIMITS.
There’s no other choice.
I can’t mess up my friendship with Landon.