Chapter Nine: On the Verge of Losing Consciousness

A warning beforehand that this chapter is NSFW. . . 

Also, the songs that are played by Trev and Pamela can be found at the end. Thanks for reading!

****Pamela****

Writing the article about Trev and the Bucks was easy. I had more than enough material and after talking with him and the whole team, I knew what approach I wanted to take for it to have the message that Trev wanted. What wasn’t easy and was often times excruciating was not talking to Trev during the two days that it took me to write the article. Knowing that I’d be busy and focused on writing, he offered to leave me alone until I gave it to him. And while I appreciated his thoughtfulness and originally thought that having no contact with him would make it easier for me to concentrate, I soon found out the opposite was true.

My thoughts regularly went to him and what he could be doing, wondering if he was thinking of me and the day we shared together, sometimes even to the previous weeks and how much had occurred between us. Him going to Appaloosa, which led to us texting, that led to us meeting in Riverview and then him comforting me at the stadium and my hotel room. His request to have me write the article and then following him around and him opening up about his dad and seeing him. The touches that we shared between the two of us and wondering if more would occur when we saw each other again. . . It was all the motivation I needed to work as fast and as long as I could to get the article done and into his hands.

But there was one roadblock in the way before it could happen. I hadn’t told my boss about the agreement that Trev and I had about him approving the final article. With it being done I was forced to face the music and I spent the third morning trying to think of ways to tell Roger. The sound of my phone buzzing served as another reminder that my time had run out and seeing Roger’s name appear on its screen made my heart start to race.

Haines! Weren’t we supposed to meet at eleven?

Shit. I cursed to myself and reached across my desk for the flash drive that contained all the article components. Striding towards his door, my thoughts raced through any number of scenarios of what his reaction could be to learning about Trev’s and my agreement but I didn’t have much time to ponder it. I came face to face with Roger’s closed office door in only a handful of strides and tried to steady my nerves and heartrate as I lifted my hand to knock on it.

“Yup.” His usual greeting traveled through the door and I held my breath as I entered it.

“Sorry I’m late.” I said and took my usual seat in one of the chairs facing him. “I was giving everything a once over before declaring it done and lost track of time.”

“Not a big deal. You’re usually early so I wondered what happened.” The expectant, gigantic smile that spread across his lips as he looked at the flash drive in my hand made my stomach sink. “So it’s done then?”

I nodded. “It is.”

His outstretched hand beckoned me to hand it over. When I didn’t make any move to place it in his hand though, his confused eyes darted up to mine, questioning why I didn’t. “Aren’t you going to hand it over?”

I shook my head and clutched the drive even more. “No. . .at least not yet.” I admitted and he looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. We sat there staring at each other for what felt like forever until he lowered his hand and sat back in his squeaky chair. 

“Care to share why you don’t want to hand it over?” Even though his voice sounded calm, I could tell that annoyance was bubbling under the surface and I knew with what I was about to admit to him, it would more than likely boil over.

Chapter Eight: A Day in the Life

I can't believe it's been so long since I published a chapter for any of my stories! That crazy thing called life kept me away, but now I'm back and will have chapters out as soon as I can get pictures for each of them. Sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoy!

****Trev****

I cursed under my breath as I walked to Jimmy’s office. Nothing good came from being summoned there. It either meant that you’d done something stupid, the organization wasn’t happy with your performance, or that they wanted you to do something for the team. I couldn’t remember doing anything stupid; although Ryan and I switched the offensive line’s helmets when they weren’t looking during practice the week before. The players thought it was funny while the coaches found it disruptive, but I saw no evidence of Ryan which eliminated it as the reason for me being summoned.

I didn’t think it was about my performance either. We were heading into week seven and won five of the six games we played; our only loss being to the Pleasantville Panthers, the team that we almost had the comeback win against during the preseason. That meant that the organization wanted me to do something, and as I turned down the hallway that led to Jimmy’s office I tried to prepare myself for whatever stupid ass thing they wanted me to do.

As I arrived at his door I smiled at several office workers that passed by and then took a moment to collect my thoughts before raising my hand to knock. “Enter!” Jimmy’s voice echoed into the hallway and I took one last deep breath before stepping into his office.

“Trev! Thanks for coming!” He greeted me before I could take two steps in the door.

“When the boss man asks you to stop by his office, it’s probably a good idea to do as he asks.” I said with a smirk and tried not to cringe at his forced laugh.

“True, very true.” He smiled and waved his hand at one of the chairs facing his desk. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I looked at it and shook my head. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to cut to the chase. The O-line’s meeting in one of the viewing rooms in 20 minutes and I don’t want to be late.”

The huge grin that he plastered on his face made me worry about what was to come. “That’s the kind of dedication we love! And it’s one of the reasons I asked you to stop by.” He walked out from behind his desk and I impatiently waited as he paused for a moment; no doubt trying to figure out how to ask me whatever it was that he wanted.

“Because of all that hard work and dedication from you. . .” He stopped and motioned towards the door. “. . .and the team of course, there’s a lot of buzz starting to circulate about our chances of being in the playoffs this year and we’re getting more and more requests for interviews.” I nodded but wasn’t particularly thrilled with what I was hearing. I never did interviews outside of pre and post-game ones and I wasn’t going to start doing them either. My face must have given away my thoughts because Jimmy sighed and stopped the charade.

“Here’s the thing, we’ve been contacted by a news organization that wants to do a story on the Buck’s; kind of a behind the scenes thing, and we’ve pretty much said that we’d be open to do it.” I sneered at the thought of some journalist following everyone around, trying to dig up dirt on all of us.

“Which publication is it? The last thing we need is some tabloid running around here, making shit up.” I complained and he held up his hands.

“Give me more credit than that. I hope you don’t seriously think that I would let someone from one of those publications in here. It’s Bridgeport Times.” He admitted and I slightly perked up from hearing the name. “You don’t seem as opposed to that. . .”

I wasn’t since Pam worked for them but I didn’t want to seem too much in favor of it. I shrugged and looked out the window, trying to seem disinterested. “It’s better than some.”

He nodded and took a deep breath before continuing. “There’s something else. They’ve also asked for the opportunity to follow you around for a day, to see how you prep for a game, even perhaps follow you around outside the stadium.” He cringed again, knowing that I wouldn’t take his last admission well.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m doing that! Everyone knows I don’t do that kind of thing and I’m not about to start! They can come to the stadium, hang with the team, and then leave!” I walked towards the door, totally convinced that the conversation was over.

“What if you could pick the writer? Someone you trust. . .like Pamela Haines.” The mention of Pam’s name made me swing around and stride towards him.

Chapter Seven: It Still Hurts - Part Two

So now we've come to part two of this chapter and I have a couple things to say before it.

First, while part one was about Trev and what he's battled to get to this point in his life, this chapter is about what Pam's dealt with and I feel like I need to put a WARNING with it. There are certain instances that some might find disturbing and might act as a trigger for you. So please proceed at your own discretion. 

Second, like many chapters, this one was influenced by a particular song which I of course have included. 

Thanks so much for reading, and continuing on this journey with both Trev and Pamela! Hope you enjoy it!

****Pam****

A gusty winter wind almost knocked me off of my feet as I walked out of Riverview stadium, making me wonder how it was possible that I stood on my balcony without a coat just three nights before.  That was the challenge of packing for away games; trying to figure out the weather and making sure that you didn’t pack clothes that didn’t stifle you but at the same time kept you warm. I thanked my lucky stars that I had enough sense when I packed to remember that Riverview tended to be colder in late October, but the frigid air still caught me by surprise and I stopped dead in my tracks.

The smart thing to do would be to turn around and head back inside, but that wasn’t what Trev and I agreed to when we talked on the phone; a conversation that I originally tried to convince myself would never happen. He asked when we texted back and forth during his visit home if he could call me, but as the next day passed and most of the next, I told myself that he forgot or hadn’t even meant it when he asked. 

I tried to distract myself with preparing for my trip to Riverview and the upcoming game but no matter how many different ways I tried to pack my suitcase or review team stats and info for both teams, I still couldn’t keep my thoughts from drifting away from the tasks at hand and to the up in the air phone call.

By the time I arrived at Riverview and walked out of the airport to find a taxi I was beating myself up about getting my hopes up. He didn’t owe me a phone call, after all. We were friends, my text was meant to encourage him, which he said it did, and in an effort to say something nice in return he offered to call me at some point. It sounded reasonable and logical, and it made perfect sense in my mind. But there was still a spot deep inside my heart where my disappointment clung to that didn’t want to listen. I tried to ignore it and shove it even further down as I arrived at my hotel room and started to unpack my things, but a part of me still knew that I was fooling myself.

That was of course the moment that my phone rang and my disappointment instantly turned into a hopeful excitement that made my hands shake a little as I reached for my phone. Which I told myself was stupid since we’d talked countless times in the years we’d known each other. He instantly apologized for not calling sooner. He mentioned staying later in Appaloosa than he originally planned, since he didn’t get to see his twin brother much, and he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. By the time he made it back into Bridgeport, it was almost midnight and he didn’t want to bother me so late. It wasn’t a long conversation, and most of it was small talk; the exception being my inquiry about how the overall trip to Appaloosa was, but it put my mind at ease about him not calling and it ended with us agreeing to meet after the game. 

   

 

But neither of us had known was how cold it would be, and as if proving my point, the cutting wind once again tried to penetrate the layers of my coat and finally persuaded me to seek a smarter option. I shivered as I whirled around and decidedly marched back towards the stadium doors, only to be halted by seeing Trev quickly striding towards me.