The Hardest Fall

* * *

The lights at the stadium, the hushed conversations, the camera guys walking around the tables—all the people around us were starting to get to me. I felt Zoe’s hand on my leg, stopping me from bouncing it against the table.

The show was about to start in less than ten minutes.

“You, okay?” she asked, leaning toward me, her eyes worried.

I grabbed her hand under the table and held on. “Everything’s good.”

She didn’t look like she believed me, but her touch calmed me down just enough.

My parents were talking with my agent when I felt a hand close on my shoulder.

“What’s up, man?” Chris greeted me with a huge grin on his face when I twisted in my seat to look back.

I rose and we gave each other a quick hug.

“I called you on the way here, wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

He sighed and played with his tie. “Just a little late, that’s all.” When Zoe pushed her chair back and joined us, Chris leaned down and kissed her cheek.

She was beaming up at him.

“Hi, Zoe.”

“Hey. I texted you earlier to wish you luck, wasn’t sure I’d get to talk to you here.”

“I called you, but I guess you can’t hear a thing with everything going on.”

Zoe stood beside me as her eyes skittered around, no doubt looking to see if Mark was around.

“He’s not here,” Chris commented before I could say anything.

Zoe’s frown deepened. “This is the biggest day of your life, how could h—”

Chris turned to me. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Didn’t come up,” I replied, avoiding Zoe’s curious gaze as I absentmindedly stroked her back.

Their interaction was still awkward at best, nowhere near a normal sibling relationship, but I knew Chris wanted that…maybe not as much as Zoe wanted it, at least not yet, but I knew he was trying to get there.

A camera guy started to film us as he passed by, and Zoe inched closer to my side. “Tell me what?”

As Chris started to tell her how he’d basically forced Mark’s hand to make him resign from the team, Zoe’s fingers gripped my forearm tighter and tighter.

“It was either that or I was going to tell my mom I knew about the adoption. In his own weird, sick way, he cares about her…I think.” Chris must’ve seen the look on Zoe’s face because he shook his head and gave her the rest of the story. “It’s not just you, Zoe. He was messing around with students…girls. He was going to get himself into trouble eventually.”

We weren’t giving her the whole story, but I’d already spoken to Chris and he’d promised me he wouldn’t tell her how I’d broken his father’s nose soon after he was no longer our official coach. You see, Zoe had forgotten to tell me what had happened in the apartment right before I’d walked in that night. I’d learned about it only because Chris had made an offhand comment, thinking she’d already told me.

I slid my arm around Zoe’s waist and pulled her to my side just as they announced that the event was about to begin.

After promising to meet up after the night was over, we had to say goodbye so Chris could go to the table they had him seated at.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” Zoe murmured beside me, wringing her hands in her lap.

“How do you feel?” I asked into her ear.

She looked up at me. “About what?”

“Your dad.”

“He is not my dad,” she replied automatically. “I don’t feel anything.” She shrugged. “I don’t care one way or another, and he is the last person I want to talk about tonight.” She reached up to touch my cheek. “Tonight is all about you.” Her smile got bigger. “You made it, Dylan. All those shifts at the bar, all those morning workouts—which I enjoyed immensely, thank you very much—studying your ass off to graduate early…all your hard work, and look where you are. I’m so proud of you.”

Turning my head, I pressed a kiss to her palm. “Not yet, Flash. We don’t know anything yet. I have no idea where we’re gonna end up.”

“Oh, come on. I read some of the predictions—someone will snatch you up in the first round. Your NFL combine was legendary.”

I laughed. “Yeah? What do you know about it?”

“Nothing, but I know whichever team gets you will have one hell of a season next year with you on their side.”

I laughed harder and drew the attention of my parents. I nuzzled her neck. “You crack me up, Flash.”

She pushed me back. “You just keep making fun of me, buddy. I predict you’ll be in the top five.”

My eyes widened. I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and my smile softened. “Top five, huh?”

The commissioner was on the stage, and all the players sitting around us fell silent.

“Welcome to the NFL draft!”

The night began as he put the Cleveland Browns on the clock and the waiting game started. The table we were sharing with another player and his family got a lot quieter after that, and my dad changed seats with my agent, Scott, to sit next to me. My mom was next to Zoe and they were whispering discreetly.

The minutes ticked by, and with the first pick, the Cleveland Browns selected a quarterback from Oklahoma.

“For the overall second pick, the New York Giants are now on the clock.”

I closed my eyes and ran both of my hands over my head. I was so ready to find out what my future held.

Zoe touched my arm and I looked at her. “It’s going to be great. You got this,” she whispered, our heads tilted down, side by side.

Eight minutes passed.

“You have an idea which team will pick you?” my dad asked.

“No idea, Dad. If I don’t get picked…if I start dropping too much, my chances will get only lower.”

He thumped my back two times and shook his head. I could see how nervous and restless he was, but he was doing his best to not show it. We watched the commissioner walk back on stage, and all chatter quieted.

“With the second pick of the 2018 NFL draft, the New York Giants select Dylan Reed, wide receiver…”

It took me a second or two to process what I was hearing, what I was seeing on the screen. My dad, my mom, and Zoe were all standing, but I couldn’t hear a single thing because of the blood roaring in my ears.

I covered my head with my hands and slowly got up.

Both of my parents were crying, but I was still in shock. My dad was the first one to pull me into his arms. Everyone was clapping around us, and I felt my dad’s chest rapidly rising and falling with his silent tears. He pulled back and looked at me, his hands holding my face. He gently patted my cheek twice then let me go. My mom was standing right next to him, her eyes bright and wide and beautiful as always.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice broken but still strong and proud. “Look at my beautiful boy.”

When she let me go, I turned around.

She was standing right there, waiting for me, and that’s when I smiled. That’s when sound started to trickle back in, and she still just stood there, tears running down her cheeks. I went to her because I couldn’t look at her and not touch, not hold. Leaning down, I wrapped my arms around her waist, and she stood on her tiptoes to hug me back. I could feel her frantic heartbeats, her pulse beating wildly. Then we started laughing, my own eyes misted with unshed tears.