A 90's Friday Night Lights meets Fifty Shades, only the town is the sadomasochist and the two young lovers their pawns.
July Elizabeth Edwards is stuck in the existence her pretentious, rural East Texas town has allotted her. A shift in social statu...
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I didn't go to the game that night, not in uniform as Coach Craig had insisted, and not to sit in the stands to show support. We lost. Our winning streak since the start of the season broken by the first loss. I was never going to live that one down. Wouldn't putting that on me give me far too much credit and power? I would think even Coach Craig would want to avoid that as much as any of the players with any self-pride in their own ability. I took it as Murphey's Law.
That, or the team Bullard promised to be this year with zero losses of their own simply meant it wasn't hype, and the best team won. I couldn't consider the obvious fact that if I had just played one more game, I might have given them a victory tonight. Sure, and I could have also ended up benched with an injury that would take me out of track.
I couldn't think like that. It wasn't how the fork in the road worked. A decision had been made and I had made it. I didn't even tell my dad how poorly Coach Craig had reacted. Even with his threat to call my dad. He knew nothing of my father and that we didn't play those bull shit games. My dad set me up for the kind of success he wanted for me, but he always left decisions like that to me.
It was a rare thing, and the opposite of what he grew up with. My grandfather was far more pretentious than this town and had his hand in everything my dad did. I was way too grateful for my dad's respect and the way he treated me than to tell him how hard coach made it for me. All because he was a neanderthal and Principal Sabella neutral but still hoping I'd change my mind and play.
Thank God I had the weekend to give Coach Craig to cool off. It would have sucked to see him the very next day at athletics. It was late Sunday night. I had a full weekend with family stuff, and it wasn't until I noticed the headlights from Lynn's dad's car pulling up their drive next door that I realized I hadn't talked to Lynn all weekend. She lived next door, and I could always see whether she was home or not from my bedroom window.
I felt bad, I know she had called to check on me multiple times. Reagan had even called, once or twice, so it must have been an intense display for them to be so concerned. What an idiot that guy. Some fucking coach. Lynn knew I was going to quit before last week's game, she was the first person I told after my dad. Still, it was weird that we hadn't talked about what went down with Coach Craig, and that the last time I saw Reagan and her was when they stood there in those ridiculous outfits watching the scene. Oh.Yeah... those outfits. Shit. Jesus!
