Chapter 4

"Alice, what are you doing here?" I question as I walk into my house, which is supposed to be a sanctuary. It's supposed to be where I feel at peace, not a place where I want to kill everyone around me.

"I'm trying to piece together what little career you have left," she spits.

"Being a little dramatic, aren't we? I'm a fantastic athlete. A little misstep with something as useless as this volunteering bullshit is nothing."

"Edward, you fucked up so bad today that I don't know if there's coming back from it," she informs me.

"How exactly did I fuck up?" I ask, glaring at her.

"First off, you showed up in that ridiculous car. Where was your brain this morning? Then, you didn't even bring a donation, and when you were asked about one, you fumbled. And lastly, reports from the shelter workers are that it was obvious you didn't want to be there and made the people there feel out of place. What the hell?" She ticks them off on her fingers. She might be tiny, but she's mighty.

"Isn't your job to figure out what I can and cannot handle?"

"Yes, but you're also supposed to put in some effort when you fuck up. You were supposed to go out in public and redeem your shitty qualities."

"Alice, I didn't want to be there. It was a nice thought, but I'm not that kind of guy. Write a fucking check, send it their way, but I don't want to dish out food ever again."

"Oh, don't worry about it; we've been cordially uninvited from ever volunteering there again."

"It's not my fault," I tell her, because it simply isn't. Maria shakes her head. "And what are you shaking your head for?"

"Don't ever take that tone with me again, young man," Maria reprimands me with a look that could kill. I sigh and try to calm myself down. All I need is for her to leave. That would wreck everything. "And the reason why I'm shaking my head is because I can't believe the words that are coming out of your mouth."

"Why not?"

"Because, according to the all holy Edward Cullen, you take responsibility when you fuck up, at least that's what you rant about to your teammates. And let me tell you, you fucked up!" Maria scolds, poking me in the chest, red-faced.

My eyes widen at her cursing; she is seriously pissed at me. I lightly take her hands and put them by her side. "Fine, maybe I didn't give it my all, but this shit isn't really my thing."

"Well, I think you need to make it your thing," Maria and Alice both inform me in unison.

I cock my head to the side and wait for them to shed some brilliant light on their reasoning.

"Edward, you need to pull your reputation out of the toilet," Alice declares.

"And you want to be taken seriously on the field, right? You want your coaches to listen to you?" Maria wonders.

"Yeah," I answer, because I do. I don't know why they're so thick and won't listen to a damn thing I tell them when it's clearly right in front of their faces.

"Well, then you need to change your attitude. You're not the best footballer out there anymore," Maria enlightens me, looking me in the eye.

I give her a side glance as the words leave her mouth.

"You're still good, but you have to be decent to people along the way, or you're going to get labeled as the asshole of football," she recovers.

"I've never not been honest with people."

"No, but your honesty, is a little in your face for people," Alice explains.

"What do you want me to do? Sugarcoat the fucking nonsense every time I speak?"

"It's not that we want that, but I'm afraid the coaches are really going to get fed up with the shit and move on if you don't change your attitude. Hell, they aren't going to want to deal with an antagonistic player, when they can get somebody who's easier to deal with, cheaper."

"They wouldn't dare get rid of me."

"That's not what Rose has been muttering about."

"Why is my agent muttering about anything?" I question the tiny woman.

"Because of how your rep looks; she's afraid they're going to cut bait and take the loss." She gives me a pointed look. "No one is indispensable, Edward."

"No way," I refute, shaking my head.

"It's not my words." Alice puts up her hands defensively. "It's just how things are looking right now."

"Jesus Christ!" I growl, slamming my fist down on the table.

"Edward, don't shout," Maria chastises.

"Sorry," I grumble, feeling lost. I don't know what I would do if the team tossed my ass. Though, I'm sure with my talent I could find another team to sign with. Maybe, one that would respect my point of view on the players.

"Hey!" Alice yells, snapping me out of my own head.

"What?"

"Getting dropped from the team wouldn't be a good thing," Alice reminds me. "I don't care how good Rose is, she wouldn't be able to work a deal for what you get paid now. There wouldn't be any leverage."

I shrug.

"You like that fancy car you drove to the food bank?" Maria asks me.

"Yes."

"Well, kiss it goodbye."

"I don't think it'll be that drastic," I tell her.

She shakes her head.

"Don't worry, we're not going anywhere. I'll try to be better," I promise Maria. Honestly, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't give two shits about the team. They're terrible this season and the coaches are turning a blind eye to the obvious mistakes they're making. I'm sick of seeing it.

She nods, giving me a warm smile.

"When's my next set of torture scheduled for?" I ask Alice.

She pulls out her phone and starts clicking around. "It looks like Wednesday after practice. There's going to be a blood drive at the stadium. It's your job to look like a hero and encourage people to come out and donate. We're going to have you mention it during your press conference on Sunday."

"Oh, goody."

After Alice leaves, I walk into the kitchen to keep Maria company while she cooks us some dinner. I figure it's the least I can do after everything.

She begins putting a few onions into a pot and stirring them.

I take seat at the beautiful, white, Carrera marble island and watch the show. Maria is a very animated cook and I do enjoy watching her.

"You know, Edward, food pantries are very important," Maria comments.

I've had enough for the evening, though, and don't really want to hear any more about what happened at the damn food pantry. "I know they are," I acknowledge. "But that doesn't change the fact I don't belong in one."

She turns around and glares at me, throwing her hands up and switching off the burner. "Well, since you don't belong in one, feel free to fend for yourself for the evening!" she screeches, before storming off upstairs.

I growl, walking out myself. I head to the den where I have snacks; I guess that's my dinner for this evening.

The next few days whip by like a New England storm. Though, the time passed quickly, I did make time to apologize to Maria. She didn't deserve my words and I was a jerk to her. I shouldn't have ever done that to the woman who stands by me and cares for me.

Sunday morning arrives and instantly, as I wake up, I regret still being alive.

"Edward, I'm making eggs if you get your behind out of bed right now they'll be hot for you," Maria hollers.

I groan and finally roll out of bed, not one bit happy about what I have to do today. Maria's eggs are worth rolling out of bed early for, though.

"Coming," I call.

Maria makes the most delicious eggs and toast along with greasy but fantastic hash browns, and I take her hand, smiling at her. "Thank you for this."

"Don't worry about it, dear. I know you have to have a full belly to go to work."

I pull her into a hug before rushing upstairs to get ready. I'm so glad things are okay between us. She's not someone I can risk losing. Not after everything… I need her.

After a quick shower, I don a suit, glossy black dress shoes, and a new Rolex, brush my hair and spritz on a little cologne, before deeming myself ready for what's to come.

Maria calls me downstairs again; this time though, I wonder what it's for, since I'm still too full from breakfast for anymore of her delicious food.

"What are you doing here?" I ask Alice as she steps into the house; Maria is still in the kitchen ignoring my response.

She gives me a look. "I'm here to make sure you look good to the coaches and the rest of your team.

"To make sure I do?"

"Yes," she answers, as if it's nothing.

"I'm amazing, I don't need to look good to anyone. If they can't see my natural talent, then that's on them."

"I'm talking about the press conference, dumbass," she shouts, pulling me to the table and making me sit down.

"What about it? I'm just going to go up there and tell them I'm sorry for being honest about the conference last Sunday."

She purses her lips and shakes her head. "Nope. You're going to read from this—" she holds up a piece of paper "—or I'm going to resign from being your PR person."

"What the hell?"

"Listen Edward, I appreciate that you're a very good athlete—"

"I like to think excellent would be the word to describe me."

"Either way, we need you to work with us. We want you to keep your job."

"Okay," I finally acquiesce with a heavy sigh and look over the print out Alice slides in front of me. "You want me to say this?" I gesture to the paper.

"Yes, that's the intention."

"I'm going to look like an asshole."

"You already do."

I shake my head and take the paper with me. "I have to go or I'm going to be late."

She stops me briefly, looking in my eyes. "Just please read from the paper."

"Yeah," is all I respond, simply trying to get away to anywhere but here right now. Things are too much for me. I rush out to my car and blast the music as soon as my ass hits the seat. It's the only thing that keeps me sane in situations like this.

Pulling up to the stadium, I try to get my head centered, but this conference is throwing me. It's the last thing I need before we go up against one of our biggest rivals.

"Edward, over here," a wrangler calls.

I follow him and try to keep my thoughts to myself. He leads me over to where they're all set up for the conference. I smile and try to appear to be here on my own accord, even though this whole thing is a bunch of complete, unnecessary bullshit.

"Mr. Cullen is here to discuss a few points with you. He's not taking questions as he needs to prepare for the game ahead. Please respect the wishes of the New England Patriots," Coach Thompson announces.

"Thank you," I offer to him. In return, he gives me a look that tells me if I mess this up, I'll be paying for it. I desperately want to roll my eyes and tell him he'll never make playoff territory without me, but I rein it in.

Standing in front of everyone, I smile, trying to keep my cool, calm exterior. I clear my throat and take a deep breath to loosen up. "Thank you for joining me here, today."

The camera flashes, temporarily blinding me and I attempt to look away, but Alice's words resonate within me. I need to be focused on the crowd, make it appear my heart is in it.

"I've come here with a heavy heart. I want to apologize and explain my choice of words from last week. I was hyped up from the game and being far too critical on the players. They did their best and we won, that's what really matters. What we did, as a team, last Sunday was amazing, and I'm hoping we can repeat that success today."

There are rabid reporters looking as though they want to come over the fence and eat me alive for my words. So I mug for the cameras and try to give them a little show. I know that's what they want.

"Also, I would like to invite everyone to join me Wednesday afternoon for a much-needed blood drive. The surrounding cities are in desperate need of our donations and Gillette Stadium is gracious enough to hold the drive right here for us."

There're cheers from all around and the Coaches look pleased. I smile once again and wait.

A few moments later Coach Thompson is pulling me away. "How's the ankle?"

"Fine," I answer.

"Good. We're going to need you in top form, out on that field today."

I nod and continue to follow him.

Walking into the locker room, I try to get my head ready for the game, though I know it's going to be difficult.

Just as I'm slipping on my game day jersey, someone taps me on the back. I turn to see it's Lahote.

"What's up?" I wonder.

"We're cool," he declares.

"Cool?"

"Yeah, I saw the press conference. I know it wasn't your idea, but either way, I'm putting everything else behind us."

I nod, happy to hear the words. We bro hug, and he goes back to his area to keep getting ready.

The Coaches gather us together for a little pep talk. I know they want to hype us up, get us in the right headspace, and even give us a few parting words before we go out on the field.

"The Broncos, while a formidable opponent, they've taken some of our finest players. So we need to go out there and give them the New England welcome they deserve."

"You want us to kick their ass, right?" Johnson asks, clearly needing some clarification.

Coach Thompson nods. "Yes, son, that's exactly what I want... I want us to beat them to the point that the refs consider calling it a mercy win."

I chuckle and shake my head.

"You got something to add, Cullen?" Coach Thompson asks.

I stare at him for a moment before clearing my throat. "Actually, yes I do."

"And what do you have to say?"

"Just that I don't think it's going to be as easy of a win as you think it is."

"Oh?" Coach questions.

"The Broncos are good this season. Peyton has been pulling out the stops and Welker; well we all know how I feel about Welker. I'm thinking we need to be one step ahead. Push ourselves beyond what we're comfortable with. Practice hasn't shown our strong suits and we need to really work on that. If we go into the game with the right mindset, but no plan, it doesn't matter how determined we are, a victory will never be in the cards."

"Cullen might have something," Coach Peters admits.

I grin and shrug, of course I have something; I've been watching every other team's highlight reels the entire off-season, seeing where we can improve. I'm glad Coach is finally seeing that.

All three coaches get down on our level and we discuss a fool-proof game plan, though it does hinge on whether our team can carry the weight of the struggling players. Black is included on that list, and thankfully Coach Daniels says something about it before kick-off.

Once things are set, we go out there; not only with the determination to win, but also with the plan to make it happen. Like Coach Thompson said, the Broncos are formidable opponents, if we don't handle ourselves right, we're going to get our asses handed to us.

Kick-off goes well and we break into their defense, pushing for yardage right off the bat. We make a pass play, bringing the ball right for the end zone, only a few minutes into the game. Score. Then it's back to pushing them out of our space.

We actually manage to keep them on their toes with our defense.

They fumble and it's our turn again, we push and take as much ground as we can before scoring yet again. Things are starting to look real good.

"We're killing them," Seth comments.

"I know, and this is what a team is supposed to look like," I inform him, looking out over the field, pleased.

"I just wonder if defense is more in the game, because you're less in their head."

I look at Clearwater to see if he's all there because it sure seems as though he's not. "Yeah, right. If I hadn't been so far up their asses all week, they'd still be playing like shit."

"Cullen, you need to know when to let it go."

I shrug. I'm not letting anything go. Clearly, something is working—Black is taking yardage from them left and right, and I'm getting ready to make a play that will secure us the game. This is exactly how a good game is supposed to work. The game shouldn't depend on one player, it should be everyone, working as a goddamn team. And if I didn't remind those assholes about that importance, we'd be in the same boat we were in last week.

The Broncos fumble and we get a turnover. Thanks to the magnificent work the defense has done, offense gets to go out there and score. It's not even going to be a fight.

"Cullen, we're going end around," Coach Peter's informs me through my headset. For once, I actually think it's a good idea. We don't need yardage, only numbers on the board. We're so damn close we can just throw the ball.

In the huddle, I spell it out. "Hale, I'm going to hand it off to you and then you're going to throw to Lahote. McCarty, Collins, and Clearwater are going to be your blocking force."

"Wait, who's going to block for you?" Hale questions.

"I still have Ateara and Cameron, but don't worry about me. This is on you. You need to make the hand off and get it down to Lahote so he can do his thing."

"Are you sure?" Hale asks, clearly noticing the differences in the play from when we practiced it.

"Yes," I answer firmly. "I'm positive."

They all agree and we break, slapping each other's helmets. I even got in on it. Trying to be a team player and actually being one are two different things, but I hope I can fake it long enough to make everyone see I'm not the enemy.

I just want a team that knows how to play the game. That's all I've ever wanted, though I know that's not necessarily going to happen. I'm happy to force their hand part of the way if it gets points up on the board.

Going up to the line, we take our positions and wait for the whistle. I know this is going to be easy, but changing up the players, gives us a chance to show off how diverse we can be and makes us look like even more of a threat.

The whistle blows and there's the hut, I catch it and hand it off to Hale, he grips it firmly before throwing it to Lahote, who runs it to the end zone. The blockers did great, but I was left wide open, if they hadn't followed the ball, I could've gotten hurt…bad.

It's my fault and I'm just glad nothing happened.

We run the clock out the last few seconds of the game with our forty-three point lead over the Broncos.

As I walk off the field, feeling good about the game, I see Coach shaking his head. He looks pissed.

"Cullen, my office after you get done with the tunnel."

"Okay," I agree easily, willing to take whatever he has to dish out, because we won…again.


Thank you to MC for her amazing beta skills! And a huge thank you to Wiltshire Glo for her stunning pre-reader skills! I love you both. Disney is fabulous, but I feel like my feet are going to fall off. And with this update, I'm going to wish you all a good night. :) I probably won't have a chapter ready for next Friday as we don't get home until then. But, I'll be working away at it and it shouldn't be too late.