Chapter 15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
BO
It was not our night tonight. We lost our away game by two touchdowns. Sometimes, when we get a break in the schedule, like our bye week last weekend, I think it disrupts our chemistry on the field. It might sound weird, but I swear it’s true.
To make things worse, our flight is delayed, getting back to Oklahoma, due to tornadoes there and heavy storms here in Tennessee. It fucking sucks. All I want to do is get home and crawl into my bed—or Chelsea’s—and sleep for hours.
Coach stands and faces us, then pockets his phone. “Okay, boys. Looks like we’re going to have to stay another night. They’re shutting down the airport here for the night. We’ll go back to the hotel we stayed in last night and hope to get out of here in the morning.”
I look at Casey, who’s sitting next to me. “Fuck. I hate traveling sometimes. I just want to go home.”
“Same. I want to see my girl and climb into my own bed. I’m supposed to turn in a paper tomorrow, too, so don’t let me forget to email my professor when we get to the hotel.
I think I can send it to him that way.” He pulls out his phone from his bag.
“I’m gonna text Noelle and tell her we’ll be here another night. ”
“Yeah, I’d better do the same.” I grab my phone from my bag and see a text from my dad that I’ll look at later and text Chelsea.
Bo: Hey, we’re staying here one more night because of the weather here and there.
Chelsea: I was wondering if they would change your flight. The weather is pretty bad here. It’s been that crazy green hazy color that happens right before a tornado hits.
Bo: Are you somewhere safe?
Chelsea: Yeah, I'm actually at your house for the night.
Bo: In my bed?
Chelsea: Not yet, but I will be. Is that okay?
Bo: Of course it is. I just wish I were there with you.
Chelsea: Me too. Are you doing okay after the game? That was a tough one.
Bo: It fucking sucks, but we can’t dwell on it. We need to fix our mistakes and keep moving forward.
Chelsea: That’s some leadership right there.
Bo: Does it turn you on?
Chelsea: I’ll let you know when you call me when you get in your hotel room.
“Excuse me, Bo?” One of the producers of the docuseries comes over to me. “Would you mind if we interviewed you back at the hotel? We figured we could move your slot tomorrow to tonight since we’ll be here anyway.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Can we make it short? I’m exhausted, and I need to make some calls before bed.”
“Of course. We just want to do a recap of the week and the game. We already have our questions ready for you.” She nods and points to her tablet in her hand.
My phone buzzes in my hand. “Okay, thanks. Sorry, I gotta take this.”
“We’ll call for you when we get the room set up. It’s likely we’ll do it in the conference room where we ate at the hotel.” She turns and walks away before I can respond.
I look at my phone again.
Chelsea: Call me later if you can. Or in the morning if that’s easier.
Bo: Sorry, I had to talk to the producer. They want to do my interview tonight instead of tomorrow. I’ll call you when I’m done if it’s not too late.
Chelsea: Okay, talk to you soon. X
I close out our thread and pull up my dad’s message. I’m not really in the mood to get his critiques tonight, but if I don’t answer, he’ll keep messaging me until I do.
Dad: Tough loss, son. You held the ball too long in the pocket again. You’ve got to read the defense faster, son. When that safety drops, you should already be moving.
I exhale a heavy sigh. Not in the mood to do this with him at all.
Bo: Yeah, I know. I saw it on film. I’ll work on getting the ball out quicker next week.
Dad: Assume you’re on the bus to the hotel? Call when you’re settled in for the night.
Bo: Okay, but it will be late. I need to do some film for the show tonight.
Dad: I’ll be up.
Great.
A few hours later, I make my way back up to my hotel room and decide I’d better call my dad before I get on the phone with Chelsea. He answers on the first ring, as if he was waiting for me.
“Hey, son. Are you finished with your filming?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way back to my room. What are you up to?”
“We’ve just been at home today. Watched the game. Then the girls had some friends over, so I escaped into my office.” He laughs.
“Fun. Did everyone watch the game?”
“Yes, your mom and sisters watched with me. You looked good out there, but it seemed like the team was not communicating well today. Our defense wasn’t reading Tennessee the way they should have and made mistakes, which cost us the game.”
“It was a rough game. It’s always hard coming back from a bye week. But to their credit, Tennessee is a great team.”
I reach my room and tap my key card to open the door. Casey is sitting on his bed, and he’s on the phone, no doubt with Noelle.
“They are good, and their coach is a fine man. You would have played well for him too.” He says it like me going there was actually a possibility.
“Nah, you know Walker was always my endgame. I’m exactly where I should be.” I clear my throat. “So, anything else you want to talk about? I’m pretty tired, and I need to make another call.”
I haven’t really said much to my parents, specifically my dad, about Chelsea since the last time we talked about me not having any distractions, but I’m itching to talk to her after this spectacularly shitty day. She just makes everything better.
“Just wanted to check in. It wasn’t the best game, but you’re playing well. See what happens when there’s no distractions?”
Distractions. There’s that concern again.
I know where it comes from, but if anything, the girl who he thinks is a distraction has been the complete opposite.
Knowing I get to see her at the end of the day has made me extra focused.
I’ve kept my nose clean. Worked hard and kept my girl and football family tight.
“About that, Dad, I know you had concerns about me dating anyone, but I met a great girl. She’s been good to me, and I’d really like you to meet her.”
I let out a breath because it feels good to share this with my dad. He may come off as uptight at times, but we’ve always been really close, and telling him about a girl feels normal for us.
“A girl? A new girl?”
“Chelsea. She’s the one you saw with me in the photo. I know you want me to be careful but … Dad, she’s amazing. When you meet her, you’ll—”
“Hold on. You’re seeing her against my wishes?”
I don’t know why he’s even asking. He knows the answers to his questions ninety-nine percent of the time. I hated when he did this to me as a kid and like it even less now as an adult.
“Dad, can I ask why this bothers you so much? You have never had any concern, or interest frankly, about my girlfriends or girls I’ve spent time with. Not that there has been anyone serious since I’ve been here. Or ever really.”
“Bo, I just don’t want to see you … how do I say it?” I hear him tapping something. “Potentially ruin your future in the NFL by letting a new relationship interfere with that. I don’t want to see her derail your plans.”
My defenses are up now. Not only for Chelsea, but for myself. “You don’t even know her, Dad. She could very well be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I honestly can’t wait for you all to meet her. She’s special, Dad.”
I glance over at Casey, who’s off his call now, trying not to look at me, but he hears everything I’m saying and can probably hear my dad’s deep timbre through the phone too.
“Son, I’m sure she’s lovely, but do you even know who she is? Anything about her past?” He lingers on that last word.
“What are you getting at, Dad?” I’m pacing back and forth, practically burning holes in the carpet.
“Look, my patience has run out about this. You cannot see her anymore for multiple reasons. One of which is, you two are just kids. You have a lot going for you—and it sounds like she does too. You’re going into the NFL; she’s going to law school.
I suggest you leave your … connection or whatever it is as a friendship.
” He clears his throat. “I’m going to say it again, and I suggest you listen this time. I insist that you let her go.”
“Dad, respectfully, I’m not a child anymore, and I don’t need to do anything you tell me.
You understand that, right? And I don’t know where this is coming from, and I don’t appreciate it after a really fucking shitty day.
If there is something you know that you think I need to know, tell me, but just to be clear, whatever you have to say or whatever you think you know, you’re wrong because you don’t know her.
So, Dad, I’m not going to talk to you about this anymore tonight.
Tell Mom and the girls I said hello and I love them. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I pull the phone away from my ear, but I still hear him say, “Bo, please think about what I’m saying.”
I end the call and throw my phone on my bed, tilt my head back, and blow out a breath. “Fuck.”
“You okay, man?” I look over at Casey, and he moves from lying on his bed to sitting up, legs to the side of the bed, facing me.
I look over at him and shake my head. “I don’t fucking know. My dad is being really weird about me being with Chelsea, and I can’t figure out why. It’s starting to piss me off actually.”
“But why? It’s not like she’s a bad influence.” He chuckles. “She’s like the perfect girl. Other than my girl, of course.” He places his hand on his chest.
“No, I know. She is perfect, but also perfect for me. I’m crazy about her, so it doesn’t really matter what he says or thinks.
Especially when he doesn’t know her. It just bothers me that he won’t leave it alone.
I’m not sure what he’s so worried about.
She couldn’t care less that I play football, and she has no intention of getting in the way of my goals.
It’s just pissing me off. I feel like … protective of her or something.
I can’t explain it.” I sit on my bed and kick off my shoes, then flop back onto the mattress.