CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTTravis
Travis sat alone in the quiet Falcons locker room. He had spent many a morning sitting here, trying to keep the room from spinning as he was hungover from the night before. Anyone who talks about those as the “good ol’ days” had their priorities skewed.
This morning he wasn’t hungover. He was angry at himself. Why did he go to the bar with the guys? Holding his head in his hands, he needed to figure out how to dig himself out of this.
Practice was over and the team had left a half hour ago. He was moping, and this was as good a place as any to mope. He had nowhere else to go but to an empty apartment.
“Hey, Anderson. You look like you could use someone to talk to,” Matt Jasper, one of the Assistant Coaches for the Falcons said. He sat down next to Travis on t
