Free After The Snap by Peyton Miller

without any response from Channing. He knew his coach was in a bad spot, and he was still a student, technically, but he wished Channing would send some sort of note. As the days ticked by, his anger grew, twisting into sadness, and slipping into depression. Most days he wanted to curl into a ball and cry.
    Why didn’t Channing want him? Surely he’d made some sort of mistake, messed up and pissed Channing off. If only he could go back and fix it, then maybe Channing would give him another chance.
    D-day, otherwise known as draft day, was coming and he feared not making any team. He could be bypassed easily. Just because he’d done well in college didn’t mean jack shit to NFL teams. There were hundreds of eligible guys who could toss a football. This year’s college graduates, last year’s, next year’s, plus all of the other guys playing in the NFL, the Canadian leagues, teams in Austria, Japan, Mexico, Sweden, and even Israel or any number of other countries where they’d picked up the sport. The chances were slim that any NFL team would actually want him, so he was trying not to make too big of a deal of the draft.
    His parents had asked if he’d wanted to come home, and he almost had gone to see them, but he still had school to think about and money was tight. Getting a plane ticket to fly to his parents’ house for one weekend would cost too much, and he just didn’t have the extra cash to blow on such a short trip. His dad said they could travel to see him, but again the cost would be too much, plus he had some hope Channing would stop by to celebrate the draft with him. If Channing came over, he wouldn’t want anyone else at his place. In the end, he’d told his dad to stay at home, stating it wasn’t even guaranteed that he’d be drafted. Sure, he was ranked, but anything could happen. A lot of guys were ranked and there were only two-hundred and fifty-four spots to be filled this year. Ten quarterbacks were either ranked above him or close enough to count, and that freaked him out. There were so many guys better than he, and the chance of him getting on a team was too small for him to count on making it.
    Early on the Thursday morning that was Draft Day, Seth stayed in bed. The sky pinked up, the edges of the sunrise turning orange behind the clouds before everything faded to blue as he hid from reality. He could have gotten up, went out and enjoy the spectacle. Maybe he could have participated by going for a jog. Instead, he watched the world, wondering if he would be a spectator for the rest of his life or would he be allowed into the game. Would he be watched like the sun, on display, revered, talked about, worshiped even or would he be a blade of grass, never even noticed?
    He drew in a deep breath, pushing away the scattered feelings as he grabbed his phone, checking to see if Channing had called. There wasn’t anything from his lover…nothing. When his bladder started aching, he rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. After he finished, he stared at himself in the mirror, disgusted by his need to have Channing’s approval. Why couldn’t he stand on his own without having to have Channing be by his side? There wasn’t a good answer, because he feared that maybe he wasn’t strong enough. Channing had been such a huge part of his life for so long that maybe he’d become too dependent on the man.
    When the draft began, he still hadn’t heard from Channing. He could have gone to the coliseum in Chicago where the action was taking place, but that took money he didn’t have.
    His nerves were shot and his anger high as he paced the small den in his apartment. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life, but he was alone and sad. His life certainly was nothing like what a football hero who deserved to be on an NFL team should be.
    The announcers came on and were talking crap as Seth settled on the edge of the couch, palming a football like it was a life preserver and he was