And then it crashed around me. Not because of anything I did, but because of the sound of the door to the building’s gym opening and the upbeat tenor of Milo’s voice calling out my name.
Damn it.
He bounced onto the treadmill next to me and began hitting buttons. “I didn’t think you’d be down here today,” he chirped as he began to move. “You seemed kind of down after practice.”
No shit. I didn’t get how he wasn’t down, given the fact that he’d knocked down two of our teammates. I opted not to say that.
“And again, no music? Are your headphones still not charged?”
I heaved a heavy sigh and turned to look at him. He looked unaffected by the speed of his machine. His breathing was even. I looked down at his speed and saw that he was starting only slightly lower than the speed I had worked myself up to. And he was still chattering on and on, asking me questions and then answering them for himself, like my part in this conversation was optional.
It was starting to get under my skin.
“Do you ever stop talking?” I asked him after what felt like an eternity of his chatter, cutting him off mid-sentence.
I regretted it immediately. His ever-present smile faded away and those colorless eyes of his darkened. His brow furrowed. The hurt look on his face almost feltwrong, and I realized that this was the first time in the two weeks I’d been a Scorpion that I’d seen him looking anything other than cheerful.
But he did stop talking for a few moments.
When he spoke again, his voice was a little more somber. “I forget,” he started, pressing buttons on his treadmill to increase the speed and incline, “that not everyone likes to talk when they work out. I just…” His lips pressed together in a thin line. “I just thought that maybe you were lonely. I haven’t seen you talking to many guys in the locker room yet, and I kind of thought that maybe you needed someone to talk to. Especially after today’s practice.”
His words settled over me like a heavy weight and regret soon followed. He’d been trying to be nice, and I’d been an asshole. He might have been annoying, but his heart was clearly in the right place. I slowed down the speed on my machine. “I appreciate it,” I told him. “Just not much of a chatter. Especially on the treadmill. And really not wanting to talk about today’s practice.”
“Do you want to talk about the game? Because the Wichita Tigers are no match for us. You know that, right? We beat them pretty regularly.”
“Think I’m going to cool down and then head back upstairs. Take a shower, try to unwind and get some sleep before the game.”
I didn’t want to risk being an asshole to him again, and my nerves were still frayed from today’s practice. The calm I’d found on the treadmill had been shattered, and the nerves had returned. I didn’t need to risk taking it out on Milo, especially when I now knew that his annoying chatter was nothing more than an attempt to make me feel welcome on my new team.
I set my machine to cool down.
“Do you want to ride in together tomorrow morning? You don’t have a car yet, right?”
“I don’t,” I told him. I’d been depending on ride shares to and from the practice facility. I knew I would need to get a car sooner rather than later. I kept putting it off, mainly because I had always hated car shopping. Maybe I’d just get online, find a car I didn’t hate on a dealership website, and order it for delivery. “What time do you leave?”
“Around ten. We’re supposed to be there by noon, but I like to get there early. I have this whole routine and ritual that I have to go through in the weight room to warm up, and if I don’t do it…” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing. I wondered if it was exertion or embarrassment. “I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”
I hated myself for making him feel bad about being kind. “Knock on my door before you go?” My machine slowed to a stop and I climbed off. “Not sure if I’ll be ready, but if I am, I’ll ride with you.”
That million-watt smile of his reappeared on his face, and I felt a strange warmth in my gut. It looked much more natural on his face than that frown had.
I didn’t end up catching a ride to Stinger Stadium with Milo the next morning. The nerves had returned in full force, and I’d chosen not to be ready when he knocked on the door. Given the way I’d reacted to his chatterbox ways the day before, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to be locked in a small car with him right then. I knew how tenuous the energy of a locker room could be before a game, and I didn’t want my bad attitude to ruin the vibes.
Instead, I arrived just before noon. The social media team was stationed by the player doors, taking video of everyone’s arrival outfits. I fought the urge to duck my head. The Fayetteville social media team had done the same thing, but I’d never been a focus. My game day fits weren’t as impressive as many of my teammates there, and I doubted they’d garner much interest here either.
The nerves and worry hit harder once I reached the locker room. They got worse as I changed into my uniform.
This was my first game as a Scorpion. This was my first time playing at Stinger Stadium. Every ALF stadium had a reputation, and Stinger was known for being one of the loudest in the league. I’d never played there, not as a Fox. We’d only played them once, and it had been in Fayetteville. I almost wished I had played there before, because then I would at least know what to expect. I knew from experience that the television never did justice to the true decibel levels of any stadium.
What if I fucked this up?
What if they regretted trading for me by the end of the game and I spent the rest of the season riding the bench, watchingother people play the game I’d spent my life loving? This could be the beginning of the end of my career. I took a deep breath and tried to stop my train of thought from derailing. The odds of my career as a starter ending with one bad game was slim to none.
But it wasn’t zero.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. I was freaking out. I was making something out of nothing, and this wasn’t good for me.
“You okay, Rangecroft?” Russ Williams, the other starting linebacker, asked from his locker area. He peeked his head around the dividing wall. “You look like you’re bricking it.”
