Chapter Sixteen: The Return of Trev Davila

****Trev****

I woke up the next morning feeling like I was on top of the world. For the first time since my accident, it didn’t matter to me that my career was up in the air because I knew that no matter what happened, Pam would be by my side.

It was the furthest thing from my mind when we finally made our way to the kitchen, when I successfully distracted her from making coffee, or as we drank some an hour later while we looked out the windows at the busy noonday city. 

It was rare that we had a quiet moment alone which was why I didn’t look at my phone when a message came through. Who knows how long I would’ve gone without checking it if Pam hadn’t brought it up and I lazily picked it up, figuring it was Ryan or maybe Stan.

“What is it?” Pam asked after she saw my double take at seeing my agent’s name on the screen.

“It’s David. He wants me to call him: ‘ASAP’.” I looked down at her and without saying a word, she kissed my cheek, grabbed her coffee and walked back up stairs to the bedroom. Giving me the privacy she thought I needed.  

She might’ve been half way up the stairs before I selected his number and started pacing around the kitchen as I waited to hear it ring in my ear. 


“Hey, Trev. Sorry to bother you on the weekend.” He greeted me after only one ring and I stopped pacing.

“No big deal.” It was since he never contacted me unless it was important, which was why I felt jumpy. Like I’d drunk a whole pot of coffee instead of my one cup. “What’s up?”

He chuckled and I heard his squeaky chair move in the background. “A lot, actually. I was contacted this morning about presenting you with a possible job offer and considering who it’s from, I didn’t want to sit on it for very long.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a quarterback coaching position and ASU.”

“You’re shitting me.” I said more out of shock than anything and glanced up at the living room ceiling, wondering how much Pam knew about it.  

“I’m not. Apparently the previous quarterback’s coach has moved on to be offensive coordinator at another school. If you’re interested, they’d like to meet with you as soon as possible.”

It’s not every day that you get a chance at your dream job, so when it comes out of the blue it’s hard to wrap your head around it. Especially when you’re wondering how much a certain person walking around on the floor above you knew about it. 

“Let me call you back in a minute.” He started to protest but I hung up on him and made my way over to the stairs to get some answers.

Chapter Fourteen: The Reasons Why

****Trev****

I couldn’t remember ever being in that much pain. My chest and the back of my head ached from the hit but that wasn’t anything compared to my neck. The insane pain was enough to tell me that there wasn’t going to be an easy fix for whatever was wrong, but as I laid there the next morning with Pam I told myself that the worst I was probably looking at was having surgery.

All I wanted was for someone to give me answers and tell me how I could fix it. I thought that might happen when the whoosh of the door hinted that someone was coming in the room, but the small footsteps on the linoleum floor told me I was in for another round with my nurse. 

“Good morning.” She chipperly smiled down at me and I grunted, waking Pam up. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood.” She grinned, completely ignoring my scowl and checked my IV. I’d run out of pain medicine about an hour before but hadn’t pushed the button for more and after noticing it, she looked back down at me. 

“Do you want any more?” She dropped the happy nurse act and seemed genuinely concerned.

“No.” I firmly stated, but they looked at me like I was crazy.

“Are you sure?” Pam asked as she sat up and placed a hand on my arm.

“No.” I repeated and scowled at her. “I don’t like how it makes me feel.” I didn’t feel in control of myself with them and decided that normal  pain medicine would have to do; no matter how much it hurt. Pam nodded and after the nurse brought me something else, she stood up and walked over to my side of the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?” She whispered as her fingers brushed a strand of my hair off my forehead.


“I remember getting hit, nothing after that until seeing you walk through that door,” I pointed to the one that everyone kept going out of, “and then it’s blank again until I woke up earlier in pain.” I knew that there was a lot more in between and it looked like she was about to fill me in when there was a knock on the door.

My stomach dropped as my eyes followed a doctor, Randy (one of the Buck’s trainers), Coach, and Jimmy. Seeing the last two removed any doubt about it being bad but even more telling was the fact that they wouldn’t look at me as they walked to other side of the room.

“Mr. Davila, I’m Dr. Fraser.” The doctor started after Pam helped me adjust the bed and pillows so I could sit up. It took a ton out of me to move and his forehead wrinkled with worry. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else for the pain.”

I gave him a look that left little doubt about my determination to not change my mind and he nodded. “We’ve taken a look at the x-rays that we took last night. . .”

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Jimmy interrupted and motioned to Pam. Her weight shifted to the foot closer to the door, like she was getting ready to take Jimmy’s hint about leaving and I grabbed her hand.

“She stays. Anything you want to say to me, you say it in front of her.” My eyes darted sideways at her, worried for a moment that she’d be upset that in one fell swoop I’d outed our relationship to everyone in the room. She gave me a small smile and placed her other hand over mine. Knowing we were on the same page, I turned my attention back to them.

Chapter Twelve: Things Happen When They're Supposed To - Part Two

****Trev****

In all my travels with teams, friends and family one thing always held true: it never took long before you learned people’s quirks.  Like how Ryan didn’t want to sit next to the window on planes because it reminded him that only inches of metal were what kept him from plummeting to his death. Or learning that Coach White liked to pass time by doing crossword puzzles and whispered “yes” every time he successfully solved a clue.

It didn’t have to be a long trip either. Anything over thirty minutes and people start to get comfortable. Which was why I learned all kinds of interesting things about Pam on our hour and a half trip to ASU.

Like how she liked to remove her shoes and socks and put her feet up on the dash, curling and straightening her toes to the beat of the music. And if it wasn’t her toes moving it was some other part of her body because sitting still for more than a second seemed to be impossible for her.

There were other things besides bare feet and fidgeting that I learned about her during that trip, but the one that made me do a double take was her chattiness. With nothing else to do, she talked way more than normal. Which wasn’t a bad thing, it was just that before that trip I never would’ve put her name and the word chattiness in the same sentence.   

She started with telling me that I was acting suspicious and that it must mean that I had some surprise planned. It was completely laughable, since it was obvious that she was hiding things too and a debate followed about who was acting the most secretive.

Having no luck with prying surprises from me, she moved on to how Mom knew about us before we arrived at George’s. Providing evidence by pointing out that Mom greeted us, that I led her to sit between Mom and me and that I winked at Mom when we succeeded.

I worried for a second that she was upset about it, that she felt like I had betrayed her since we’d agreed not to tell anyone before. But her reassuring smile convinced me that she wasn’t and I let out a sigh of relief before revealing how it happened.

I told her about my talk with Mom in October, when I went home for Dad’s service. That Mom probably would’ve guessed who my guest was from that conversation. But it was my phone call to her a couple days before, when I recruited her to help make sure that introductions went smoothly, that she really learned the truth.    

When she asked me to tell her the embarrassing stories about my siblings, the ones I hinted at when we were at George’s, I was all too willing to share. Will’s first date was a disaster because he was running late and didn’t have time to look for his lost belt. Instead of changing his pants, which were too big, he risked wearing them and regretted it when they fell down around his ankles; right as he pushed his date’s chair in at a fancy restaurant.

George’s embarrassing story also involved his pants, but unlike Will’s, his stayed on. At least until he was forced to change them. In the months leading up to George and Charlotte’s fifth birthday, they begged for new bikes; ones that had removable training wheels. When Mom and Dad led them outside on their birthday and they saw the new, shiny bikes, George got so excited that he literally pissed his pants.


To say that Charlotte loved her favorite mirror would be an understatement. It was a handheld one that she carried around her room, talking to it like it was her boyfriend. But that wasn’t the most embarrassing part. The fact that she also used it to practice her kissing, was. I only knew about it because she left her door cracked open one day and I heard her making kissing noises. She had no idea I’d ever seen her until hours before, when I threatened to tell everyone.

My reward for sharing was Pam’s responses as she listened to each story. More than once it looked like she couldn’t decide if she should laugh or scold me and her facial expressions flip-flopped between disbelief, horror and amusement.

When I was finished, she mentioned how glad she was that her family didn’t go around sharing embarrassing stories or photos. I must have looked guilty because she started smacking my arm until I confessed the habit I picked up in the summer of skimming through photo albums in her parents’ family room.

Chapter Twelve: Things Happen When They're Supposed To - Part One

****Pamela****

He turned the wrapped present around in his hands, inspecting certain spots more than others, like he was trying to find a hole that would reveal a clue about what laid underneath the shiny, red paper. My wrapping skills were legendary. I could wrap any shape or size and was an expert at taping all gaps, making it almost impossible for anyone to open.

“Give it up, Trev. You’ll never figure it out until you open it.” Dad tried to convince him and Trev first looked up at him and then glanced at me. His raised eyebrow asked me if I’d give him any hints but I smiled and shrugged back, refusing to give in. It seemed so fitting that he’d approach opening presents like an excited child and as he began trying to find a corner or edge to rip, we all started to laugh at his theatrics.

The smirk that appeared on his lips gave away that he somehow found a place to begin ripping and I held my breath as more and more of his present was revealed. I thought my heart might explode from the anticipation when he released the last of the tape from the paper and bit my lip as his hand started to pull it back to see. . .

The images were instantly gone and I felt my heart sink as I realized that I’d woken up, again. Every single time, something would wake me up before I could witness his reaction and I wondered what the culprit was that morning.   

Chapter Seven: It Still Hurts - Part One

This chapter can be read on it's own, or can be read with George's chapter which can be found here. It's the one time that the two stories have chapters for the same event so it just made sense to me to publish them at the same time. While the event is the same, their reactions and experiences are different and I think each chapter shows just how different George and Trev are by revealing what each chose to center their thoughts and attention on.

And I'll just go ahead and say that due to one picture, this may be NSFW. What can I say? I couldn't resist taking a pic of Trev in the shower. . .lol! 

And it is part one of two, which I'm in the process of editing. Hopefully soon. . .

Hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for reading!

****Pam****

I sat in the press room after the next game and barely noticed the loud people around me. My mind was too occupied with what happened since the last game and by the fact that I was still fighting with myself over what I felt. Trev, Paisley and I went out for dinner and he continued to wonder if I was okay, something that Paisley picked up on and I could tell she was more than a little curious by it.  I spent the whole dinner fighting with myself; he would tease me or throw a sarcastic comment my direction and I would return the favor, but then I would try to remind myself that I was silly for letting it get my hopes up. Any reasoning was dashed away though when as we left and said goodbye, I felt his hand on my back as I got in my car and I was again confused by what it meant. Was it just a friendly gesture or something more?

I sighed and Victor looked at me. "What's up with you?"

I shrugged. "Just tired tonight." I lied and was grateful that he didn't press me for anymore answers. The sound of the doors opening alerted the room that someone was coming in to answer questions and I felt my heart beat faster as I saw Trev walk up to the table. But it immediately slowed and sank as I saw his face. He should have been all smiles since they had just won against one of the best teams in the league, but he was more than a little subdued and I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Maybe he drank the same sad juice you did." Victor kidded and I kept watching Trev. He smiled, albeit not the blinding smile most were used to seeing, he was still thoughtful, but what was the most telling was that he didn't crack a single joke during the whole time he sat and answered questions. It was concerning enough that I didn't ask any and instead sat there wondering what could be troubling him so much. Was the pressure of his recovery and career becoming too much? Was there something else?

He left as quietly as he entered and I couldn't think of much else but his demeanor as Coach White answered questions. I sat there half listening to him and the others that sat at the table after him, and when the last player finished, I quickly grabbed my things and headed out to the parking lot. With the way he was acting I wondered if his car would still be there, and when I saw it sitting exactly three spots over from mine, like it had for the last three months, I let out a sigh of relief.

I was earlier than normal since I rushed out of the press room, and after placing my bag in the backseat, I leaned against my car and looked up at the moonlit sky. It did little to distract me though from feeling the worry that started when I saw him enter the pressroom; and eventually I gave up concentrating on the clouds and instead replayed every moment of the press conference. His subdued facial expressions, the lack of a smirk or blinding smile, his quiet demeanor. . .

"Aren't you cold?" He whispered as he stopped next to me and leaned against the car. The suddenness of his voice made me jump a little and conflicting feelings started to swirl around inside me. Excitement that even in his saddened state he stopped to talk to me, disgust at the fact that in my excitement I forgot about his sadness and I began to chastise myself for it. The last feeling, distress over his behavior, was what made me regain some of my wits and helped me push all other thoughts aside.

"A little." I admitted and looked over at him. His eyes were focused on the sky which gave me a moment to look at his face undetected. At that close distance there was no denying the sad expression that touched every inch of it and as he lowered his head and looked at me, I saw it in his eyes too.

"You didn't ask a question tonight." He tried to joke and while I was somewhat relieved that he did, I knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to hide behind his quick wit, and while that might have worked in previous years, it didn't then.

"I have one now." I offered and I felt a small sense of relief when a half smile appeared on his lips.

Chapter Five: Enjoy Seeing Her Smile

****Pam****

"Trev! Why don't you get out there and run the next set?" Coach White's voice rang out over the field and all of the reporters turned their attention to the sideline where Trev stood, including me. I watched with the other reporters as Trev snapped the strap on his helmet and ran out to the field as Ryan ran off, and as they crossed paths, Trev and him slapped each other on the arm. They had been switching on and off for three days, each time showing the same sportsmanship. All of the media had noticed and it was a popular topic of conversation among the many watching from the press area.

The other popular conversation topic was who would be named the starting quarterback. Everyone had their opinions and they usually swayed towards Ryan. It was a topic that I had gotten tired of talking about but my colleagues started up again as Trev took the field.

"There's no doubt that he looks better than he did, but anything would have been an improvement." I heard Victor comment and I inwardly cringed at his implications about Trev's previous condition.

"Is it enough though? I mean Ryan’s looking pretty good and has gotten some experience from having to fill in for Trev during last season. Maybe they should give Ryan a chance." Barry offered and I sighed, causing them and several others to look at me and I cursed under my breath for directing attention to myself.

"Your dad coached both of them, what do you think, Pamela?" Victor asked and I wished I could hide. I didn't want to give my opinion for the very reason that he had just stated; not only because of my dad but because I knew both Ryan and Trev too.

I shrugged. "Who am I to say. It's been six years since Trev played at ASU. . ." I told the truth, technically; they didn't need to know about the extra help Dad had given unless Trev or Dad let it be known. "And I wasn't there when Ryan played."

"Oh come on Pamela. . .You have to have an opinion on it. . .which one do you think they'll pick?"

 

I looked back at Trev playing and sighed as I did. "I'd be shocked if they don't give Ryan a chance to start during the preseason games." Most of the other reporters smiled and nodded their heads and turned their attention back to the practice, thinking I was done. "But. . ." They slowly turned back towards me. "I wouldn't count Trev out; in fact, I think Trev is going to surprise a lot of people this year." I walked away so I could escape answering anymore questions and continued to watch the practice, thankful to be left alone with my own thoughts and observations.

At the end of practice, some of the players remained on the field to answer questions including Trev and Ryan and the inevitable competition questions started.

"Trev, you and Ryan seem to not have much animosity toward each other, even though you're both vying for the same position.  Will that continue once one of you is named the starting quarterback?"

Trev chuckled as he looked over at Ryan, who returned the chuckle with a knowing grin. "Tom, I'm getting tired of answering the same question that's worded differently. Maybe one of these times you guys will believe me. Do I care about being the starting quarterback? Yes. Do I want the job? Yes. Will I be disappointed if I'm not? Yes. Will I stomp around the field and throw a temper tantrum like some other players might? No. I'm a team player, I've always been one and if me not starting is better for the team, then I'll accept it. The fact that it could be Ryan makes it easier. He's a nice guy, a team player, and he's a good quarterback. So yes, the lack of animosity will continue even if he's named as starting quarterback."

Ryan motioned to Trev that he wanted to add to what Trev had said, and he nodded. "I'm in complete agreement with Trev. We've both answered this question an insane number of times and I'm not answering it anymore. We've told you how we both feel so let's move on to something else."

"Is it true that you're both going to ASU this weekend to help train the quarterbacks?" Another voice shouted through the crowd.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, although I wouldn't say we're going to help train them; more like interact."

"Coach Haines asked if both of us could find a weekend to stop by and talk with some of the players." Trev further explained.

"Knowing him I wouldn't be surprised if running plays fits somewhere into the itinerary." Ryan joked and I found myself chuckling with them which again caused several reporters to look at me.

Several tamer questions were asked before the players headed to the locker room and I was then being pressured from other reporters. "You must have some kind of inside information, Pamela. . .they're both going to work with your Dad this weekend." Victor accused.

"They can do that without me knowing more than any of you." I offered but they weren't going to let me off the hook that easy.

"Right. . ." Barry smirked and I rolled my eyes at him. "You did say something earlier about not counting Trev out. . ."

I turned and glared at him. "Yes, I did, because of what he's shown on the field the last several days. He's more relaxed, has better accuracy, and looks better than he has in years. You'd have to be a complete idiot to not see it and I know for a fact that Coach White and the rest of the coaching staff are not idiots. They'll give Trev his chance, he may have to wait for a bit, but he'll get it."

"He'll probably choke." Tim scoffed and I whirled around to face him. I scowled at him for his stupidity and wanted to tell him how much of an idiot he was for believing that, but that would tip them off since I had never stuck up for Trev before, and that would lead to even more questions being asked.

"I guess we'll see." I offered instead and walked away with thoughts of what I wished I could have said running through my head. 

By late Friday afternoon I arrived at the ASU house and I was even more irate about the whole situation. As I entered the front door, Dad and Mom greeted me and immediately noticed how disturbed I was.

Chapter Four: Conversations - Part One

****Trev****

Two weeks flew by like nothing. Probably because I was insanely busy with my sister’s wedding, a family vacation, and my brother getting engaged. But I didn’t mind the craziness since it helped keep my mind busy and off of having a drink.

I hadn’t been out of rehab for very long, but I was already starting to figure out some things that triggered carvings and what helped. Talking with other people was one thing that worked. Not about the bullshit that most people wanted to talk about, but the honest talking that only happened with family and close friends like Ryan, Stan and Coach.

That was one reason that I was happy to be heading back to Coach’s house. I’d asked for his help with getting me back into shape for the upcoming season and he suggested that I come back after my family vacation.

I hadn’t expected the same three cars to be there when I pulled into the driveway. He hadn’t mentioned family being around during the week that I was staying there and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Sure, things were a little better with Pam and me, but we weren’t anywhere close to being friends.

And then there was Tiff. I’d avoided her multiple attempts to corner me, but I wasn’t sure I could do it for a whole week and I hoped that Coach was going to keep me busy so I could avoid her without it looking like I was.

I rang the bell and was more than a little relieved when the door flung open and Coach’s ear to ear grin greeted me. “Trev! Come on in!” He patted my back as I walked past and barely closed the door before giving me a bear hug that squeezed all the air out of my lungs. “Good to see you.” He grunted and I nodded as he let me go.

“You too.”

I didn’t even have a chance to catch my breath before Mrs. H. came around the corner from the kitchen. “Oh good! He’s here!” She gave me another hug, one that allowed me to breathe, and looked me over after taking a step back.  “You’re still too skinny, but I can fix that.  I’ve got several pizza’s baking and I’m working on the salad now.”

I chuckled and shook my head at her fusing. “You shouldn’t have gone to that much trouble, Mrs. H. You could have ordered pizza or even heated up a store bought one and I’d have been happy.”

The cross look she gave me reminded me of one of Mom’s. “Nonsense! Besides, homemade pizza always tastes better.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort and I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I flashed her a smile, one that usually got me out of hot water and she shook her head; pretending to be upset with me by narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

“How many times has that smile gotten you out of trouble?”


“More times than I’d like to admit.” I gave her another smile and they both laughed.

Coach and I hung out in his office until the pizzas were ready and walked across the hallway to the dining room. The scene was similar to lunch a couple weeks before, minus Tiff barging in or bending over in front of me.  There was one change that threw me for a loop though. When we were sitting down, I happened to glance over at Pam and she gave me a small smile. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d done it and I sat staring at my plate, trying to remember when it was.

“Did you have a nice vacation with your family?” It almost didn’t register that Mrs. H. had asked a question, since I was busy staring a hole in my plate. It only hit me when I looked up and saw everyone staring me.  

“Oh…yeah, I did. It was relaxing and it gave me a chance to go over plays and figure out where I want to improve; having competition will do that.” I hinted about Ryan and Coach sat forward in his seat.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is and he’s a nice guy so it makes it really hard to not like him.” I joked and got serious again. “He’s also better than he wants to give himself credit for too.” Coach nodded.

“You didn’t spend your whole vacation reading and watching football, did you?” Mrs. H. half joked.

I chuckled. “You sound like my Mom. Let’s just say that I spent the amount of time I thought I needed doing prep work.”

“I don’t know how anyone could think of football while visiting such a romantic place…” I had to give some credit to Tiff; her timing was impeccable. But my focus on my recovery wasn’t the only reason why I wouldn’t even think about testing those waters. She was Coach’s daughter, and I wasn’t about to do something so stupid.   

“I…suppose that some would find it romantic. I know my brother George did.” It wasn’t the greatest answer and I was sure she’d try again. But she didn’t get a chance to thanks to some unexpected reinforcements.

“I’ve heard the snorkeling there is amazing. Did you have a chance to?” As baffled as I was by Pam’s smile, I was even more so from her help with Tiff and my answer was just as guarded.

“I did; several times. I would recommend it to anyone who goes there.” She nodded, gave me a little smile and looked over at her mom who’d steered the conversation in another direction.

I kept staring at her and wondered what version of the Twilight Zone I was in. Not that I minded her smiling at or helping me. But it was completely uncharted territory and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

My journey into the Twilight Zone continued after dinner, when we sat down in the living room and Coach and I started talking about what he had in store for me that week. We hadn’t gone over many specifics during the previous ones, partially because he wanted to see me in action before figuring out what we should work on, and also because he liked being a sneaky bastard.

“When I mentioned to some of the players that you were coming in, several of them talked about wanting to be here to meet you. Would it be okay if we go down to the stadium tomorrow morning? Some of them even hoped to catch a couple balls.” It was a question disguised as a statement and I chuckled as I tried to get him to admit what we would really be doing.

“Are we just throwing balls, or are we running plays?” He smiled but didn’t say a word.

“Really, Nick…he just got back from vacation.” Mrs. H. protested.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I just want to make sure I know what I’m getting myself into tomorrow especially since he’s agreed to help whip me back into shape.”

“And what better way to do that, than to have you run plays with some youngsters…” Coach finally revealed the beginnings of his plan and I nodded.

“So we are running plays…” I smiled and everyone laughed.

“I can’t understand why you think you need to get into shape. You look like you’re in great shape to me…” It wasn’t her comment that caught me off guard, it was the way her eyes traveled up and down my body and I actually was at a loss for words.

“There’s a difference between being in shape and being in shape to play. It’s like running, you have to build up endurance.” It was Pam to the rescue…again and I found it just as confusing as the first time.

“Exactly, and playing football not only involves preparing your body, but also your mind by knowing plays and reading defensive and offensive lines. Be prepared so you can adjust. The better prepared you are, the easier it is to adjust your strategy and plan of attack or defense.” I hadn’t heard Coach’s motto or followed his advice in years. But the second he said it, I realized that it was exactly what I needed to do if I wanted a shot at getting my job back.

One way to prepare was by reviewing games. Sounds easy, but when it’s reliving how bad you’ve played for the last several years, it quickly loses its appeal. But it’s what I’d done through college and in my early years as a Buck, when I actually played worth anything, and it seemed like a good place to start.

I woke up the second morning at Coach’s determined to bite the bullet and watch myself look like a complete ass on the field. With it being summer, I had my pick of the viewing rooms and went for the one at the end of the hallway. There might’ve only been a handful of people there and the games had already been broadcast around the country, but I didn’t want to draw an audience to watch me do it again.

The beginning games weren’t so bad. I wasn’t as dependent on alcohol at that point, but I could see a steady decline in my performance with each game and by the sixth one I was cursing at myself for being such an idiot.

“God! That was so stupid! Why did I not see that defensive lineman?” I wrote down a note on a pad of paper and fast forwarded to the next play. Sure that I was about to see another mess up. Sure enough, it was me throwing an interception.

“Shit! I completely missed that Anderson was open…” I grabbed the pencil, made another note, and sighed as I reached over to fast forward to the next play.

“He’s not the obvious choice though.” I almost jumped out of my chair. I’d been so caught up in watching that I hadn’t heard anyone come into the room.

I slowly turned around and squinted to see who I already knew was there. It took a second for my eyes to adjust but when they did, I saw Pam with what can only be described as an “Oh shit” look on her face.

“Do you have a habit of sneaking in rooms and watching people when they’re not looking?” I was more than a little upset when she first revealed herself, but seeing her face turn red with embarrassment softened my annoyance a bit.

“I’m sorry. I got curious and wondered what you were watching. I’ll just go.” She quickly turned to leave but I wanted to know why she’d made the comment.

“I didn’t say I minded. I just wondered if it was a habit of yours.” She turned back around but looked at the screen instead of me and I spun my chair back to look at it too. “Why’d you say that about Anderson? That he wasn’t the obvious choice?” I asked her as I rewound the play.

“Because I have a big mouth and can’t keep comments to myself.” She blurted out and I chuckled.

“That may be true, but I’d still like to know…” I hinted and she walked a little further into the room.

She shrugged as she continued to look at the screen. “He’s not someone that you usually throw to.”

“But that’s what would have made the play work.” I said as I looked back at the screen.

“It probably would have…”

“But…”

“I didn’t say but.” She snapped but didn’t leave.

I looked sideways at her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from letting me know what she thought. She sighed and continued. “You didn’t read the defense correctly. If you had, you would’ve realized that the player you intended to throw to wasn’t an option and would have noticed Anderson was wide open.”

I nodded and completely agreed with her. “You’re right; and any decent quarterback would’ve seen that. Doesn’t help that the quarterback on the video had a massive hangover that day either.” I said with complete disgust.

“That may be true, but…” She sat down in a chair across the aisle and pointed to the screen. “…if you fast-forward to the next play, you might see something that the quarterback on the screen did right.”

I felt my brows come together as I looked at the screen in confusion and fast forwarded the video until the next play came up. Tiny snapped the ball, I caught it and looked to the intended receiver, pumped, but then turned to throw the ball to Anderson who was open. Exactly what I should have done in the previous play.

“See?” She crossed her arms in front of her and glanced over at me with an “I told you so” look on her face.

I nodded as I continued to look at the screen. “Doesn’t change the fact that I missed it the first time.”

“Trev…” She sighed and turned so she could look at me instead of the screen. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. Every player makes mistakes.”

I started to disagree with her, but something else popped into my head and I had to ask her about it.. “How did you remember what the next play was?”

She whispered something under her breath and squirmed in her seat as she looked up at the ceiling. “I have a photographic memory.”

“You have a what?”

“A photographic memory, you know…when I see something I remember it.” She said louder and with a hint of testiness. I stared at her, completely dumbfounded.  I’d known her since we were eighteen and had never known that about her.

“What happens next?” I tested her because I still didn’t fully believe it was true.

She sighed and looked straight ahead at the screen. “You throw to Washburn, he catches it, and you gain ten yards.”

I went to the next play and watched as it happened, exactly like she said it would. “Whoa.” I whispered my amazement and kept staring at the screen.

“Anyway, you did some good stuff last season, and you’re trying to get better, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” She said matter-of-factly and stood up. “I’ll leave you to it…I’m sorry I interrupted you.” She scooted the chair back up to the table and started to walk back down the aisle to the door.

She might’ve spied and interrupted me, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t grateful for her advice and unexpected pep-talk. I turned around and called after her. “Pam?”

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder and I once again felt like I was in some version of the Twilight Zone as I added, “Thanks.”

I got a nod and she left the room, as quietly as she entered it.

Chapter Three: Surprise, Surprise

I'm providing the song that helped inspire this chapter. If you like, you can listen to it while you read. :)

****Trev**** 

She was the first to recover enough to do something other than stay frozen in place; narrowing her eyes at me, like she always did, and glancing quickly over her shoulder to make sure no one was behind her before whirling back around. “What are you doing here?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

I knew the answer, but my brain was still stuck on the fact that it wasn’t her mom answering the door. And it was her voice that finally broke through.  

“Trev!” Her face lit up from her smile and I couldn’t help but marvel at the difference between their reactions from seeing me there. “I almost didn’t believe it when Nick told me you were coming!” She gushed, completely ignoring Pam as she gave me a hug and whisked me into the foyer.


“Come on in! Goodness Pamela! You could’ve invited him in and offered him some iced tea.” I’d somewhat gained my wits back and managed to flash Pam a smile as I walked past her. But she’d once again frozen in place from the shock of what was happening.

“Pamela! Close the door before we get infested with flies.”

It was like a switch was flipped inside her. Turning off the confusion and shock induced paralysis and turning back on the anger and narrowed eyes that she shot at me when she turned back around.

“I’m so glad you’re going to be staying here for the next couple of days! We’ve missed seeing you around here! I’ll take you up to your room so you can put your stuff there and then you must come right back down so you can have a glass of iced tea and we can start catching up.”

Nothing had changed about Mrs. H. In fact, she looked almost the same. Short, bobbed blonde hair and lively green eyes, both the same color as Pam’s. And she was still a gracious hostess who knew just what to say to make you feel right at home, even if she had a daughter standing five feet away shooting eye daggers at you.

“Nick had to run down at the stadium but should be home soon. Let’s get your bags and head upstairs.”

I normally would’ve done as she commanded, not being one to argue with Mrs. H. but I wasn’t sure if staying there was the smart thing to do. Not when it was clear that not everyone there thought of me as a welcomed guest. “Are you sure it’s okay I stay here, Mrs. H?”

She stopped walking toward the stairs and gave me a look that only a mother could.  “You’re not staying in a hotel, not when we have more than enough room for you to stay here. Plus, what kind of a hostess would I be to let you go stay somewhere else. You’ve done your obligated offer to stay elsewhere, and I don’t want to hear anymore about it. You’re staying here and it’s settled.” She scolded me and I held my hands up, showing her my surrender.

“Alright.” I chuckled. “You’ve convinced me.”

“Good. You look like you’re in need of a good home cooked meal, anyway. You’re way too skinny.” She’d told me the same thing every time I walked in that house. One time I’d even asked Coach if she was serious but we could never tell for sure.

“Wait! He’s staying here?!” Pam finally found her voice and there was no way to miss her surprise between the way it shrilled and her eyes almost popped out of her head.

“Yes, Pamela honey. Try to keep up with what’s going on.” Mrs. H. joked but Pam didn’t even try to smile.  “You coming, Trev?”

I nodded and smiled at her as I picked up my bags and followed her upstairs, feeling fireballs directed at by backside the whole way up.