The roar of the crowd should be invigorating to me. It's my first professional game as a starter.I was called into the coach's office when we got here and given the news. Shivel is out. I'm in. He's been traded to California for a couple of practice players that will be here next week. I'm pretty sure most of us would agree we got the better end of that trade.So I should be excited. Instead, my mind is everywhere except on the game ahead of me. Actually, that's not true. My mind is on a certain brunette that I'm praying I'll see in the stands today. Tiffany's been ignoring my calls and texts all week. Can't say I'm surprised. I wouldn't answer any of my calls, either. But I texted her that I had left tickets for her at the will call office."She'll be here," Christian says with a clap on my shoulder. We're waiting in the tunnel for our names to be called as the rest of the team runs through to the field. I nod in acknowledgement of his comment, but it doesn't make me any less anxio

I swing the door open when he knocks. As hurt as I've been over the last several days, his public proclamation of love went a long way to heal some of those wounds. We still have some things to discuss, but risking his new starting position just to apologize to me tells me how serious he is."What the… what are you doing?" I ask. Rowen is standing in front of me holding flowers, helium balloons, a card, and what looks like a big box of chocolates. "You know it's not my birthday, right?"He gives me a sheepish smirk. "I wasn't really sure how to go about apologizing to you. So I may have gone a little overboard.""Ya think?""I wanted to cover all my bases."I grab him by the arm and pull him towards me. "Get in here." I slam the door behind us and take the flowers from him. He follows me into the kitchen while I pull out the only vase I own. "How many games are you suspended for?""Just two," he says as puts all his presents on the counter. "And a five thousand dollar fine."I grimace.

"Good afternoon, Caleb," I say, a very relaxed smile on my face. It may have been a few hours ago, but there is definitely something to say about oral sex starting the day off right."Hey, Tiffany. You have fun at the soccer game last night?" He looks over at me slyly as I grab my mail out of my box."I take it you saw the clip?""Everyone saw the clip." He swivels his chair to look at me. "It's only been running on ESPN for the last eighteen hours.""Well I guess that's one way to put myself on the radar over there.""I guess it's after the soccer game that is responsible for the big smile on your face?""Caleb," I say with a quirk of my eyebrow. "That is none of your business.""Oh, come on. I didn't even know you were dating the guy and all the sudden he's jumping into the stands to make out with you in the middle of the game?" His true journalist instincts are showing, but right now, I'm keeping my mouth shut."Let it go, Caleb.""Can't do that Tiffany.""Yes you can. Or else…""Or

The story then cuts away to me sitting on a couch in the PR office. "Rowen!" my mother screeches. "I can't believe you wore that horrible cap on TV!"My dad snickers. "You know I hate my hair, Mam.""Your hair is your trademark!""No, it's Da's trademark. That's why I wear my beanie."She rolls her eyes and stops talking so she can keep listening.The reporter talks about our family and shows some old clips of my dad playing. There's even a couple of pictures of us in one of the European stadiums when I was a kid."Aw," my mom whispers. "I remember that day." She looks almost misty-eyed seeing my dad in his glory days, me a little bitty squirt.And then the story shifts to present day and some of the interview I did yesterday."Mid-fielder," the reporter says to me."Yeah," I answer with a nod."I think a lot of people would assume you would be a striker like your dad.""Yeah, I get that a lot.""So why such a different position?""I think at first I was trying to distance myself from

Rowen. The thought of his humiliation brings tears to my eyes. He's been so good to me since our fight, despite his reservations about my reputation. But this, this is going to be too much. I remember he sent me a text. CALL ME!That's all it says. I don't know if that means "Call me because I'm worried," or "Call me so I can break up with you". I'm not sure I want to know.I look up as Amy, the news director, Ron, the general manager and Paul, the executive producer all walk into my office. Some lady from HR follows behind them and closes the door behind her. I wedge my hands between my thighs, trying to get as small as possible without crawling under my desk.Caleb is sent back downstairs with explicit instructions to not transfer any calls up here. The phone is turned off and they grab random seats around the room. Amy looks at me with sympathy. "You know we have to run the story, right Tiffany?"I look down and nod. I'm not surprised. The picture and caption have been viewed milli