There’s a pause in the convo.
“So I’ll see you soon,” she says, somewhat awkwardly. “I mean, I’ll text you once I’m in my hotel.”
Why did Aiden have to make things so weird?
We don’t have our next date planned and my schedule is pretty tight with her road trip, Connor leaving soon, and training camp starting after. As elusive as Connor is during the day, he seems to be home for evenings, and we’ll want to hang before he splits for New Jersey.
So the only thing that comes to mind for our next “appearance” is a bit of a repeat, where I can bring along Connor too.
“Can I come to one of your home games next week, when you’re back? I can make an appearance, and then we can head to my place together after, if you want?”
“Yeah, perfect.”
The energy between us is still a little loaded, but hopefully, by the time she’s back, it will be like this never happened.
The next day,I wake up to a text from our offensive coordinator Marshall, asking if I can come to the facility today at ten.
RAWLEY: Yes sir, I’ll be there.
What could this be about?Landon’s on his way back from England with Rori, so I can’t ask him. Nor do I really want to.
Whatever it is, I need to be able to handle it on my own.
Connor’s still asleep when I leave the house at nine, wanting to be really early so I don’t mess up whatever this is.
I have over thirty minutes to kill when I get to the Waves’ facility, but it’s better than being late. I sit in a fabric armchair outside one of the main areas and flip through the playbook mindlessly.
Not really able to absorb any info, I abandon the exercise within ten minutes and pick up my phone instead.
Dad had texted me yesterday about some pitcher having a great game, so I take this chance to reply back.
RAWLEY: Sounds like a good one, sorry I missed it.
He responds back fast.
DAD: Oh yeah, Hellar is a gamer.
I rack my brain for something else I could talk to him about.
It kind of sucks that he can’t be a safe space for me to discussrealthings that matter. Like how nervous I am about the meeting or whatever it is that’s about to happen.
But it’s always been my siblings who I’ve had to rely on.
Needing a different distraction, I flip over to YouTube and watch the closed captions on the latest episode ofTheBrosKnow, a sports podcast with two brothers, former football players. UnlikeAthlete Buzz, they tend to be fair and player-friendly.
They haven’t said my name once in the segments I watch—a blessing—before Marshall texts me to come to Coach Houston’s office.
Here we go.
When I enter, Coach Houston is seated behind his desk, and Marshall in one of the guest chairs.
“Come on in, son,” Coach says. “Take a seat.”
“Yes sir.” I do as he commands.
He sends a warm smile my way. “How are you doing? Did you have a good Fourth?”
“I’m fine, sir.” I can hear the nerves in my voice. “And yes, I did. How about you?”
