“Hey, Donnie.”
“What did Fowler want?”
“To ask about my friend.”
“Right. I forgot you’re ‘best friends’ with Noah Westbury.”
I don’t stop when he mocks me. I made the mistake of telling a sorority sister about Noah. She didn’t believe me, going as far as saying Noah going to prom with me was a charity fundraiser I won. And it’s not like I’ve been able to prove her otherwise since he’s been dating Dessie, which has strained our relationship by no fault of his.
“Yeah, something like that.” I continue to walk across campus with him right next to me. He continues to gab about Noah and Dessie, reminding me, very painfully I might add, that he’s with her and how they’re all over the place, with her talking about marriage. I want to plug my ears and throw up at the same time.
“Would you look at this?” I say, pointing to my sorority house. “Gotta go!” I hurry into the house and shut the door.
“Donnie, again?” Veronica, one of my sisters, asks.
I nod and head toward the stairs. “It’s relentless.”
“He probably wants to ask you out.”
I grimace at the thought. Something about him creeps me out. I head toward my room and strip off my winter gear. I find myself standing in my mirror with my credentials hanging down. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Pulling out my phone, I scroll until I find Noah’s name. My thumb hovers, but I don’t press. I haven’t called him in so long I honestly don’t know what I’d say if he answered… or if she did.
Instead, I scroll up to Liam’s name and call him.
“Uncle Liam, I have news.” I proceed to tell him, thanking him repeatedly for helping me get to this place in my life. He tells me he’ll be at Noah’s game, but will try to watch the Bears game as well, hoping to see me on the sidelines. My next call is to my parents. My mom’s excited, and my dad is reserved. He’s never really grasped my love of football but has always encouraged me to follow my passion.
The rest of the week I’m a mess, studying not only for my classes, but the stats for the upcoming game. I focus heavily on the Bears, but also their opponent, the Bengals. On paper, which means nothing on Sunday, the Bengals are favored to win. Still, I take my notes, jotting down things I need to watch for.
Sleep evades me, and by the time my alarm goes off Sunday morning, I’m a zombie. I down coffee, shower, drink more coffee, do my hair and get dressed before downing yet another cup while I’m on the phone with my mother, who is basking in the warm temperatures of the Bahamas with my aunts.
Arriving early with my press credentials hanging happily around my neck, I am downright giddy and loving every second of lifting the badge to show security that I’m allowed onto the field. Walking through the tunnel, I take it all in. While the noise level is high now, it will be thunderous when kick-off happens. People start to fill the seats, while many young kids are hanging over the railings trying to grab a player or two for an autograph. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs fill the air.
And the reason I’m here… the media outlets are setting up on every corner. Microphones are being tested, makeup done so they look perfect when they’re on air. This is what I want. I turn at the sounds of applause and find the Bears coming out of the tunnel. They slap the hands of their littlest fans as they go by.
Being here early has its perks, at least it does for me since I’m the newbie. I’m the one learning. An NFL field is vastly different from high school or college and the last thing I want is to find myself tripping over some random piece of equipment or find myself standing in the wrong spot. I want to know my place on the field before someone yells at me.
As the Bears warm-up, I start taking notes, writing down everything from what stretches they’re doing to how many are running full sprints. None of this is important for my article, but it keeps my mind busy and keeps me from gawking at the quarterback, Kyle Zimmerman. Each time I look at the field, his eyes are on me. The first time I noticed, I smiled and quickly went back to my notepad, but now I can feel his eyes burning into me.
“Watch out,” I hear, looking up in time to sidestep an errant pass made by Kyle, who is rushing toward me. I pick the pigskin up and throw it back to him, with a perfect spiral I might add.