Obsession // Animotion

Over the past few weeks I've become a press box regular. I've never been so interested in football, not even with my dad's team. I helped out as a paid staff member, not out of love for the game. I didn't watch the plays with an analytical eye. I didn't gawk at the guys in their tight pants like half the girls in the stands trying to land one of them after the game. I just grabbed sweaty towels when players tossed them and refilled water bottles at half time.

This is different. And even I recognize that I've gone over the top with my obsession.

I'm rearranging my work schedule to ensure I can attend the home games.

I've made friends with some of the press I sit next to, so they save me a spot.

I bring baked goods for Marshall, the security guard,  so he'll let me in through the service gate. That way no one sees me.

And all of this for a guy who ghosted me after basically catfishing me. What else would you call it when he declared that he'd do whatever it took so we could be together only to dump me over text and then block me...

He lied. And I can't figure out why.

I never slept with him, and that would be reason numero uno. Bag the girl then drop her, right? It's dating for college athletes 101 with most of the guys I know. Jeff never even tried. He can't be tucking his tail from rejection because I never rejected him. I literally would have gone further with him if he'd ever initiated, but he didn't, so I didn't, and we just didn't.

Is there any other reason? Did my dad get to him in private? I can't imagine that either. Dad was pretty surprised when I told him what happened. He also seemed to mull over the game hits Jeff took during that Northern match. Declan on the warpath had to mean something and it seemed like my dad was working through that something in his head.

I just don't get it. And the only link I have is sitting in the press booth to watch each week with a bird's eye view of the game. What I'm seeing is making me sick.

You'd think it would be natural to lose my appetite when faced with the guy who broke my heart. But that's not even what's bugging me most about all of this. I'm not even mad at him right now.

Because after watching the last few home games, and knowing the stats from the away games, something is going on with him. And it isn't good.

I have to wonder if it's all related.

It's the fourth quarter of the game against Tennessee State. This is the only away game I've attended because it's over Thanksgiving break. If I hadn't traveled with my dad, I would have been alone on the holiday. Thankfully, he wasn't able to travel with the team and I wasn't sandwiched with Jeff on a bus or trapped in a plane within view. The support staff went with them because Dad had some kind of big meeting with the University President which delayed his travel time. That's the only way I was able to go with him. I would have either traveled alone or stayed home otherwise. I didn't want to have any interaction with Jeff. I don't even want him to know I'm here. I'm doing the same thing I always do at a game this season; sit in the press box. Being the head coach's daughter does have its perks when it comes to seating arrangements.

The game has been brutal. I don't understand what's going on with the Fallbrook team, but their heads aren't in it. Even I can see that something's really off, more so than with only Jeff.

He's been missing catches all season or dropping passes. My dad pulls him out after one or two plays and shoves in one of the other guys who doesn't do a whole lot better. Once in a while, he'll let Jeff catch for one of the freshman quarterbacks. That's the only time the team has a legitimate chance. The energy between Jeff and the other guy is seamless. But my dad ends up putting Reign back in after a few plays and it's all downhill from there.

After halftime, the team seems to pull together. They finally gain some decent yardage and a goal is within reach. They might be able to salvage it at this point if the plays continue to be smooth.

I watch as Jeff sits on the bench, head down. Reign comes to stand behind him, eyeing our defense as they block the other team. At least half of our guys are killing it. Just not enough to score.

Jeff's entire body tenses up. I can see it from here. His hands ball into fists. His neck tightens up, bringing his head to a stiff angle. He's radiating so much emotion I wonder how Reign can appear unbothered so close to him. I'd be stepping away with caution if I was him. It looks like Jeff would clock him with a right hook if he thought he'd get away with it. And Jeff is not an aggressive guy. He's anti-aggression, like a puppy dog. That's one of the things I liked about him right off the bat at the music festival as we were both surrounded by psychotic clowns. He was peaceful and serene in a mass murderer convention of crazy thrasher metal fanatics.

Not much forward momentum happens for the rest of the game. My dad never puts Jeff in during the second half. Reign does his best with what he's given, or so it seems, but the team doesn't score. It's basically a bloodbath.

When the game is over, I head to the hotel so I don't run into any players. Waiting around for my dad would have guaranteed that situation. I sit in the room and scroll through my phone, contemplating ordering room service, when there's a knock on my door. My dad is standing in the hall with his head down.

"Hey, you got here fast," I say as I let him in. "Don't you all have dinner or something together after a game?"

He runs his hand through his hair. "Not tonight. The guys all opted to postpone."

"That's weird. Why would they do that?" I watch my dad sit in one of the chairs by the window. Stepping closer to him, I can see the haggard look on his face.

"What is it?" I ask.

He takes a deep breath. "We got a call last night that one of the player's dads died yesterday. I was up most of the night helping him make arrangements to get back home and packing his things for him. Then I put in some calls to the University to get him bereavement leave from classes."

I sink onto the bed remembering the way Jeff looked on that bench during the game.

"Which player?"

"Matt McKinley. Freshman. He's one of Jeff's friends from high school."

My stomach sinks. "Oh." Was that why he was so upset? "How's Jeff taking it?"

"Not great. His cousin is dating Matt. From what Jeff has said, I don't think Matt got on well with his dad. He's got a younger brother, just a kid. Jeff's family had kind of taken them under their wing, so to speak. I wish I could have arranged for him to go with Matt but he's not officially family, so it wasn't in my power to do so."

"Oh."

Dad leans back, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe I should have footed the bill to send him anyway. Matt was pretty shaken up."

I'm sure he was. Even from the press box I could tell that something had shaken Jeff to his core. This must have been it. My dad presses his hands into his thighs as he stands up, grunting from the effort.

"I better go get some more of the paperwork done. I don't want Matt to have to deal with that on top of everything else."

I nod and hug him goodbye, the wheels in my brain turning as he goes. I shouldn't do what I'm thinking of doing. It's really stupid considering the circumstances. But I can't help it. I never could when it came to a friend who was hurting, or a dog or a bird for that matter. I'm compelled to help.

I lock my door behind my dad and head right to the room phone, dialing for the front desk.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm with the Fallbrook University football team. My dad is the head coach, Thomas Carlton. He isn't answering his phone and I really need to find him. I believe he's in Jeff Miller's room but I can't remember what the room number is. Can you tell me?"

I thought about asking my dad, but I knew he wouldn't tell me. Plus, he'd be suspicious of my motive, even with everything that's happened in the last 24 hours. I didn't want to sneak into his room to look at the print-out of room assignments. So, this became my go-to detective maneuver.

"And your name is?" The woman sounds hesitant, which I don't blame her.

"Alison Carlton."

"Of course. I see your name on the list. Mr. Miller is in room 544."

"Thanks!" I hang up and grab my phone and room key, rush out the door and right to the elevator but hesitate because I'm worried that I'll bump into someone on the ride down. The coaching staff is on the seventh floor, so I decide to hoof it down the two flights rather than risk seeing any players or coaches. I've lied enough for one day.

There's no one in the hall when I emerge from the stairway, thankfully. I check room numbers and find that I'm already close. Just two doors from the stairs is his room number. I suck in a deep breath and knock. I hear footsteps immediately and then the door is thrown open. Jeff's brows are crunched in an angry furl and his mouth is dropped with the beginnings of a rant. At least that's the impression I get.

Even so, seeing him up close for the first time in weeks has my heart racing. He looks awful. Disheveled clothes and bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep, the dark circles under his eyes a dead giveaway to his distress.

"What?" he starts to say then glances down the hallway before grabbing me by the arm and pulling me into the room. Jeff shuts the door, locks it, then turns to face me. He stalks forward, the dark look on his face causing me to step back. But he keeps pressing toward me anyway.

My back hits something, a table or desk I'm not sure, and stops my retreat. Jeff takes two more steps until he's in my space. He looks me over, eyes traveling down and back up, pausing at my lips before once again looking into my eyes.

"Jeff, I-" but he cuts me off with his mouth.

He's kissing me. And not just your average, run-of-the-mill kiss. He's all in. His lips capture mine, surrounding me and making me dizzy. His arms wrap around my back, pulling me closer. I'm shocked at first but its only a second or two before I'm melting into him, allowing his tongue to plunge and tangle. Feeling him this close is something I never thought I'd feel again.

Which reminds me why I never thought I'd kiss him ever again...

My hands rise to his chest and push him away.

"What are you doing?" I can't help the anger in my voice. What the hell is going on? Now he kisses me after weeks and weeks of no contact?

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," I say as I wrap my arms around myself, blocking his access to me.

"Fuck." Jeff runs his hand through his hair and turns away from me. "I'm sorry. I just..."

"What? You just what?" Now I'm pissed. "Ghosted me? Lied to me? Left me in shambles while you skipped merrily away?"

"No. Shit, this isn't how I wanted this to go."

"Wanted what to go? You didn't know I was coming to your room so how could you have wanted it to go any kind of way. You didn't know I was at the game, or at any of the games this season, but I've been there. To all of them. And I know something's going on. I can tell."

Jeff spins back to look at me, getting up close and personal. When he speaks, it's in a whisper.

"Stay out of it, Ali. Please."

"Jeff-"

"No, don't get involved. If I could be with you, if I could tell you, I would."

I stare into his hard gaze, matching his energy. Intense and desperate are the only two words that come to mind.

"Is this something to do with Reign?" I watch him flinch when I say the name. "Declan?" This time the flinch is mixed with fear. "So that's a yes."

"Stay away. Please."

I lean closer, pressing my lips to his ear. "I have. I am. You kissed me, remember?"

He presses into me again, closely. "I couldn't stop myself. I miss you."

I push him away. Again. "Too bad." I don't confess that I miss him, too. So damn much. I don't ask the questions that have been torturing me since he left. Those two flinches told me enough. This isn't about me. Something else is going on. Something dark.

A knock sounds at his door followed by a loud command.

"Open up, Scrub."

"Shit," Jeff whispers, dragging me to the closet. He says nothing as he opens the door and guides me inside. He stays silent while he looks at me, pleading for my silence with his eyes. I nod. He responds with grateful eyes before closing the door.

I listen as he opens up to who I assume is Reign based on the reaction Jeff gave me.

"Where we going?" Jeff asks.

"Nowhere. Open up."

"No, man. I need out. Matt's whole situation got in my head. Change of scenery."

"It wasn't your dad that kicked the bucket."

Ugh. This guy is a piece of shit. How does Jeff not punch him right in the face with that attitude?

I don't hear Jeff's reply because he closes the door and must have left with Reign. I'm not feeling like that was a good idea, but it will give me a chance to escape. I wait at least ten minutes before I leave my hiding place. As much as I hated the way he manhandled me into the closet, I'm glad he had the foresight to do it.

I look out the peep hole of the door and scan what I can see of the hallway. No one. I step out into the hall after another peek but see it's empty. Then I turn and take the stairs back up to my room, wondering what the hell had just happened.

This is where being a panster is the best thing ever. I always have a vision, a loose kind of plot with a beginning and an end in mind. I have basic details of conflict and detailed descriptions of my characters, but the road to get from A to B is never decided upon in stone. This chapter and last chapter are exhibit A in terms of my writing style being so exciting.

I told you that getting Coach involved in Jeff's dilemma was not planned. Neither was Alison going to Jeff's room or Jeff kissing her suddenly. Until I started writing this chapter and got to the point where I knew Alison was on the away game trip over Thanksgiving, knowing what Matt was going through and realizing that JEFF WAS LEFT BEHIND. Lightbulb!! Ali had to go check on him which would push him over the edge in terms of his emotions and restraint and VOILA. Kiss.

This is now a domino effect because I have to discover how this new wrinkle will change things moving forward. How will Jeff react? What will Alison do next? I don't know yet but they will tell me as I write. PANTSING FOR THE WIN!

Let's be real, Jeff and Alison are both obsessed. This music is a mood. The 80's hair in this one, though... classic.

https://youtu.be/hIs5StN8J-0

Thank you so much for reading!! We're about 3/4 through this story and I'm hoping to finish writing it during spring break but ya never know. I'm considering my next couple of stories (I always work on two at once) and I'm thinking that Micah and Charlie will be the novella and Jackson (from the Blue Bloods series aka Grinder/Brax/Julia/Savanna) will be the novel I focus on.