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I need to get it together.
For a moment, I question whether or not I should reach for the journal full of notes that I have in my bag, but opt against it. I’m sure his question was rhetorical—nor do I want to make a fool of myself because on one of those pages is a complete logo rebranding idea. I’m certain that will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
He continues to look at me impatiently as I twiddle with my fingers in front of me. “I’ll be honest, the internet wasn’tthathelpful, butit’s not what I’ve searched that’s told me what I need to know. It’s what I’ve seen.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“Maybe some things that you’ve overlooked,” I persist, looking up at him, yet he’s not convinced. “Aw, c’mon, Warren, just give me a chance.” I shoot him a desperate plea with my eyes. “Please!”
He purses his lips in thought, and his eyebrows furrowed as he studies me again for a moment. I recognize that look—I seeit every day when he looks out at the field. It’s as if I’m a play, a drill, something he needs to figure out, but he doesn’t know how.
And as desperately as I try to pull away from his gaze, I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s something enchanting to Warren. He can be a real hard-ass, but I know the stubbornest of men can have the biggest heart. Warren’s just not one to wear it on his sleeve.
He, however, has no problem stirring the pot as he turns back to the team and slowly brings his whistle to his lips, my gaze lingering on them for a moment too long. “Lads,” he calls out, the whistle falling free of his mouth as he signals them all to come over with a wave of his hand.
“What are you doing?” I question, freezing as I watch the boys run in our direction.
“You wanna take over?” he mutters, glancing back over at the team as they gather around us. “Do it.”
The team reaches the space in front of us one by one as my heartbeat intensifies. “What’s up, Coach?” they ask, prompting Warren to simply nod his head in my direction.
“Well, lads, it seems as though Delaney’s got somenew perspectivefor you all. Don’t you, Delaney?”
I have a hard time reading the looks on their faces. Are they shocked, surprised, confused? Or is that just the way that I’m feeling right now?
Their eyes blaze through me as I stay silent. “Well, go on then,” Warren prompts me once more. “You seemed to have a lot to say a second ago.”
I grit my teeth for a moment to avoid biting back before I muster up some confidence. Warren’s going to give me a chance to speak?
Perfect.
I’ll give him something to listen to.
“Coach is right,” I begin, finally addressing the team with conviction. “I do have some things I want to share with you all.”
“And that is?” They don’t seem to take me seriously, causing me to straighten my stance the way I’ve had to do so many times in front of my parents.
“Well…” I clear my throat. “After standing here and?—”
“Standing?” Hart cuts me short. “Don’t you mean sleeping?” His comment prompts a few chuckles throughout the group.
I pause and glance over at Warren, waiting for him to scold them the way he had earlier in the week, but instead, he remains silent. Perhaps he really is giving me the reigns.
I place my hands on my hips. I can’t contain this fire any longer. “Listen, Hart.” I swallow hard. “You know, I’d really appreciate it if you'd let me finish. I’m sure your lovers don’t get that luxury with you very often, but please…let a girl speak. Besides, that was one time, okay? And can you blame me? The way you play puts me to sleep.”
The laughter from earlier is now replaced by a chorus of amused “oohs” as Hart’s cheeks turn bright pink in shame, and for the first time, I’m convinced the group actually heard me.
Is this how I can get through to them?
I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my body as I gather my thoughts, putting together all of the puzzle pieces I’d picked up while watching the team and figuring out the best way to articulate it to them.
“Green,” my voice commands the attention of one of the two main defensemen of the group as everyone goes silent once more. “Remind me again, when did you and Burton get married?”
The boys look at each other in confusion, much to my amusement. “Married?” they repeat. “We’re definitely not married,” Green stammers.
“Oh…” I pout. “My mistake, I guess. I just assumed you were, considering the way you two can’t seem to move away from each other on the field.”
This time, I actually see a brief smirk appear on the edges of Warren's lips. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile before. Not only is it a relief to see, it feels even nicer to be the reason for it.
