The Fumble Of A Quarterback

Chapter 15: What Is His Name

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"So the big opening game is two days away. Are you ready for it, Shelly?" the professor asked in class.

Shelly smiled as he looked around the room, making sure people were watching. "Yeah, and Nora and coach have been doing great at prepping us."

Instantly my cheeks turned hot as I shrunk in my seat. I didn't understand why he always wanted to wrap me into any conversation about football. It was a constant reminder for the class to not forget who I was. All eyes on the class fell on me, making my stomach tie into knots.

"So, if it doesn't go well, we can blame her, right?" the professor asked with a smirk.

I shrunk deeper into my chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. I wished he never brought it up. Best to give the class any ideas. The last thing I needed was getting death threats if the team lost.

"Nah, it wouldn't be her fault. If anything, it would be our problem not listening to her," Shelly said with a chuckle.

When I signed up for this course, I knew that it would be my favorite, but with Shelly, it drained all the fun of it. In fact, it was the class I dreaded. I even thought about dropping it for a minute until I realized it would only postpone graduation.

"You head it here then, class. Ok, so let's get started. Who did the assigned reading?"

I raised my hand along with half of the class. The words from the article floated around my mind forming thoughts, arguments, and anything I could use in the discussion. I was just glad I could squeeze the reading in the night before while I sat in dad's office waiting for him after practice.

The professor looked at me through his round glasses and smiled. "Managed to read even while helping the team? Look at Nora, use her as an example. Go on Nora, want to share some insights?"

My mouth turned dry as my thoughts vanished from my mind. Suddenly, I wished I hadn't rose my hand. Not only Shelly reminded the class of who I was, but the professor did a fine job at that too. I didn't want to be used as an example. 

With a deep breath, I quickly formed a few sentences together, trying to crudely explain the reading. However, my mind shifted topics as I thought about the past few practices. We were so close to the opening game, but dad only seemed more stressed as the days went on. For someone that was so cheerful I could see he was under pressure from the university to deliver.

The team was still doing a poor job working together, and everyone was worried about that. I had tried getting to know the players and so I could help build friendships with other players on the team, but they continued to stay in their little groups.

Everett was the best player on the team. He should have been a team leader, but people never talked to him, and he never talked to others. If I got him to at least try to talk to others, I might get the rest of the team on board. But this would be hard since he had not talked to me since our walk. He probably was still mad for things I said, but I wouldn't take it back. He needed to hear those things.

Before long, I found myself standing on the field right beside dad as he talked to the team about the upcoming match. Time was running out and the sense of urgency consumed the field like a storm cloud. 

The way dad chewed on the corners of his mustache; I knew he was stressed. He delivered on good rankings last year, so the school wanted him to deliver this year even though things have changed.

"So today, Nojo had the team-building activity for you all. Nora, want to explain?" dad asked as the team stood around us.

I looked around the team and nodded as I stood up a little taller, knowing exactly what to do next. "Telephone. Have you played it before? All of you line up and whisper the sentence to the other and see if it is the same sentence that started."