My phone buzzes in my pocket, yanking me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and glance at the screen just as I spot Julio coming toward me, cutting through the parking lot.
His black hair is damp, clinging to his forehead, like he’s just come from the locker room. I raise a hand in greeting, meeting him halfway.
“Yo, Gabe!” Julio calls, slapping my shoulder. “How was class?”
“Same as usual, man. What’ve you been up to?” I ask, wondering if I was supposed to train with him today and forgot.
Julio rubs the back of his tattooed neck. “Just putting in a little extra time in the gym,” he tells me. “I had some free time and needed to work through some …” his expression twists into a scowl before he quickly masks it with a failed attempt at a casual shrug. “Just needed to work through some things.”
Right. Some things. That look in his eyes—one I know too well—tells me everything I need to know. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Adriana, would it?”
He huffs out a breath, his face tightening. “Of course not.” But his answer comes too quick.
“Good.” I try to keep my tone light. “I know she’s been kicking it with that guy, Kenji. And I know you’ve?—”
“Seriously, Gabe. I don’t need to know. I couldn’t care less who Adriana hangs out with or what she’s up to.”
His voice goes flat, and the tension rolling off him is almost visible.
“Right.” It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about this though so I let the subject drop.
“Did you happen to see Coach while you were in the gym?” I ask, steering the conversation toward safer ground.
Julio’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. He’s still pretty pissed with how practices have been going.”
“Fucking brutal. Coach ran us hard. Probably harder than we deserved, but I think he’s pissed we’re not clicking like we should be yet.”
I pause, remembering Cecilia’s suggestion the other day. “Cecilia had this idea. She mentioned we might need something to help us bond more. Like, maybe a team BBQ or something before the game this weekend. What do you think?”
Julio raises an eyebrow, mulling it over. He’s silent for a beat, his eyes scanning the ground as he thinks. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons. “Not a bad idea, actually. Could be exactly what we need to loosen everyone up. I’ll talk to Coach, see if we can set something up.”
“That’d be solid,” I say, relieved he’s on board. It's not like a BBQ is going to magically fix everything, but maybe some off-field bonding is what we need. Something’s got to give. “We can keep it low-key, maybe grill at the soccer house.” We don’t usually invite people outside of our crew over, but I think in this instance, we can make an exception.
Julio nods, then tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “Team-only thing, or do we let the guys bring a plus one?”
Fuck. My mind immediately goes to Asher and Adam. Shit. I’m not ready for that.
“What do you think?” I ask, deciding to take the decision out of my own hands. If J wants team only, then the decision is made. If he’s cool with plus-ones … nah. He’s going to say team only. It’s one thing to have them in our space. We might not all be best buds. But we at least know one another. No way is Julio going to be cool with literal strangers just?—
“Let’s do plus ones,” he decides. “If we want the team to jell, they need to feel like we accept not only them but the people they care about.”
That knot in my chest tightens. I swallow hard but manage a nod. “Yeah. Cool. I’ll uh— I’ll get with our boys and we’ll grab groceries and shit this week while you figure out logistics and notify the team.”
“Sounds good.”
My phone buzzes again. Dad’s name flashes across the screen, and my stomach dips.
“I’ll catch you later,” Julio says as I bring my phone to my ear.
“Yeah. Later,” I mutter, watching Julio jog off before I answer the call.
“Hello?” I answer, still getting used to the fact that my dad actually calls me now. We’ve talked a little here and there since my mom’s wedding but I’m still always taken off guard when he calls. Like it’s some foreign and unexpected thing.
“Gabriel,” his voice comes through, sounding tired but casual. “Just wanted to check in. How’s everything going?”
“No complaints,” I say, stepping out of the way of a group of freshmen headed for the dining hall. “Classes are classes. Soccer’s been kicking my ass lately, though. The usual.”
He chuckles, the sound short and quiet, but it’s there. “Yeah, well, that’s what you signed up for, isn’t it?”
