Chapter Three

Shakir's POV

We have a big game tomorrow. I fear that everyone on the team hates me. I am trying my best to be a good player, and I think I am a good player. I just need to learn to shut my mouth, or else I am not going to get any playing time.

I am laying in bed thinking about the team, but I keep catching myself thinking about one specific player... Cook.

Why does this man occupy my headspace so much??

I find myself scrolling through Instagram, my comfort app when I cannot sleep. The horrible reels normally help bore my mind, and put me to sleep.

I scroll to a reel, and it is a football reel, shockingly. Normally, the reels are these awful fucking AI generate videos with robot voices.

However, the reel has a clip of a Georgia player, and in the caption is the hashtag #Bills. This cannot be about who I think it is.

Did I seriously just get a fucking Instagram reel about Cook in my feed??? I swear I am never going to outrun this man... maybe on the field though...

It is a clip of him checking a touchdown when he played in Georgia. It is kind of impressive... He managed to barely catch it, but he did. In a game, six points can determine the fate of the game.

I am still really nervous. Hollins and the other receivers have been doing much better than me in practice. Hollins also has some type of vendetta against me, and I have no idea why, so he probably hasn't put in a good word about me to McDermott.

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The gameday is here... We are facing the dolphins.

My nerves are insanely high as I still don't know if I am going to get in the game. I am a rookie, and there are many receivers that are much more experienced.

We have won the coin toss... we are starting on offense.

Coach calls every offensive player into the huddle. He is going over the line up. Allen is the starting quarterback, obviously...     He is insanely good, but lacks an ego like most QBs in the league.

He gets to the running backs. He calls out, "Cook!"

How the fuck is he starting. This is the third game of the season, and he is already starting. I've been watching him in practice, and he isn't that good. Like how he is seriously starting. If I am not starting, and he is starting... I am going to be so fucking pissed. We are both rookies that just got drafted, and he is not better than me.

Coach is now to the receivers, and because I was too busy hating on Cook, I didn't hear any of the names. I ask the guy next to me what he said, and he looks at me, and I realize it is Hollins.

Hollins says to me, "Don't worry, buddy. He didn't call your name. Go warm the bench for me."

I storm away. What does this man have against me? Like what could I have possibly done to upset him so fucking much, other than talk slightly bad about his best friend.

It gets a few plays in and it is 4th and down, and Allen decides to go for it. How, stupid they are at the 40 yard line, just do a field goal kick... like the kicker is good enough to make it. What a stupid decision.

The snapper snaps the ball, and Josh Allen grabs it and is searching for an open man, to his left side he watches Hollins get aggressively tackled by a very large man. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a Dolphins player that has gotten past the offensive line running toward him. Oh no... He must get rid of the ball, or do something. Come on Allen, throw the damn ball.

Allen throws the ball... but who could be throwing to? I did not see any of the receivers open. I follow the ball, and Cook catches the ball at the 18 yard line, and is suddenly tackled. Cook got us a first down, how tf did he manage to do that as a running back.

This man is something else. He is a fucking rookie too, and he think he can run out there, and act like he is the greatest player on the fucking planet. I am so done with him. Someone needs to humble him... and it ought to be me.

Within a few minutes, they make it to the end zone, and Allen is able to run the ball and score us some points, thankfully.

The offense team comes off, and players are telling them good job.

Cook walks by me. He gives me an odd look.

I respond with, "So you think you are so tough just because you can catch a ball."

Cook shakes his end, and keeps walking.

Coach Marx must have seen the conversation that has just occurred because he is looking at me.

There is a media timeout, for the ads that play on the television.

Coach Marx walks over to me.

He says, "Whatever your fucking problem is with Cook is, it needs to stop. You need to stop being such a child and grow up. Your useless grudge against him is not only hurting yourself but also everyone else around you. You radiate enough negative energy that the people in the nosebleed seats at the top of the stadium can feel it. Even if you are not actively playing you need to stay focused and get your head in the fucking game."

He walks away before I could ever get a chance to respond. I know sometimes I get mouthy, so he probably didn't want to hear what I have to say.

The game finished up, and it was a close game. The final score was 48-40. We won, but I didn't get in the game. I am not too upset, because I know rookies do not usually play for the first few games, but Cook got to play, and I guess I am just bitter that he did, and I didn't.

After I get out of the locker room, I am walking into the player parking lot toward my Cyber truck, and I see Cook.

He calls out "Shakir! Wait up!"

What the fuck can this man want from me now.

He runs up to me and says, "So you weren't lying about that Cybertruck?"

"No, did you seriously think I would lie about what kind of car I drive?"

"Well... I don't know, a lot of people lie to try to seem cooler than they are."

Cook asks me, "How long have you been in Buffalo?"

"Just like since a week before the first practice. I still haven't unpacked my boxes. Why? What's up?"

"Just wondering if you have explored the city at all since you've been here."

"No, I haven't really had a chance with training, practices, and games, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. There is this Grille restaurant that I have been wanting to try out. Would you like to try it with me?"

"Why would you want to hang out with me when I have been a douche to you?"

"I think there was a misunderstanding between us somewhere, and I'd like to clear the air."

Why is he being so mature? I have been nothing but a dick to him. It is kind of sweet though, plus I do need to explore the city some, since I may be here for a minute.

"Yeah, sure, that's cool with me." I respond.