The Fumble Of A Quarterback

Chapter 1: More Fun Than The Street Fair

Hi all!!! 

Here I am, writing a new story! It's been a long time since I wrote a straight romance, so I thought why not. Anyhow, for anyone that has read my stories before, you should know by now that I pick songs for every chapter. Look out for the <> where you should listen to the song. 

Anyhow, stay safe and healthy!

Darla H

The definition of fumble is an act of using the hands clumsily while handling something. But in slang, it meant to make a mess of, destroy, or ruin. Even though my father is the head coach for Ohio State University Football team, I still had to look it up just to be sure.

The word felt heavy in my mouth, as if it weighed me down. I had never been one to fumble on anything. I always knew what I wanted, I always had sure hands, but when he came to my life, everything changed. I never thought I would fumble on anything, but I was mistaken.

I did everything wrong, so here I was, alone, walking down on a country road in the middle of Ohio blizzard, wishing I did everything right. The events that led me here still rang fresh in my mind making the pit in my stomach even heavier than it was. 

It all started with an unofficial summer internship that dad offered to me.

"Nojo, we are going to be late!" dad called out to me from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hold on, I'll be there in a minute," I shouted back at him as I put my hair up into a tight ponytail, convinced that looked sportier that way.

I was never one for sports. I hated most of them, actually. The fact that some actually paid money to watch people run around on a field wearing goofy outfits blew my mind. What a waste. There were so many other things that someone could do besides that.

But sports were my parents' passion. My dad had coached university football all his life. It was his life. He knew exactly what he wanted as soon as he graduated from high school. He was just lucky to find a wife that loved football as much as he did.

For as long as I could remember, we lived all over the United States, chasing football jobs of bigger and better schools, however his only goal was to coach for The Ohio State University. He was from Ohio, grew up in a small town about 30 miles east of Columbus. He spoke about Ohio State University as this amazing place.

He made me believe that I would fit right in. Well, he wasn't wrong. We have lived in Ohio for two years already and it was probably the best place I had ever lived. Sure, there wasn't any major sights in Ohio. It was more like a pass-through state. But it had friendly people that would talk to you in the supermarket, or wave as you pass them on the street. It didn't matter where I was, I knew I could make an instant friend if they were Ohioan, which I needed once my sister moved out and joined the air force two years ago.

"Nora, we gotta make like a banana and split here soon," dad warned in his typical cheery way. But I knew that if I didn't move, he would leave without me.

I opened the door to look at my thin mustached father and smiled. "I'm ready."

He smiled. There was such joy in his eyes, I didn't want to mess up this moment. But I wasn't as excited as he was for this. Everything about the sport make me sick. The game, the players, the outfits. But I think I hated the players the most. They were always so stuck up and mean. On campus, they thought they owned the place and it infuriated me. 

"Let's get going. I'll give you a tour before all the team arrives. Oh boy oh boy, this is going to be the best summer of your life!"

I nodded with a small smile, trying to convince myself it wouldn't be as bad as I thought. Silently, I walked down the stairs to slip on a pair of sneakers.  "Sounds good."