The equipment team was already there when he made it to the locker room, and he nodded hello before walking the room slowly. He found his locker, three stalls down from the veterans but not quite on Rookie Row. Not part of the established core. It fit. He dropped his backpack, took a stiff new cap off the top shelf, and tugged it on. Just as he was adjusting the brim, someone slapped him sharply between the shoulder blades.
“Look who’s here bright and early.” Dominic Rizzo’s grin took up half his face.
CJ glared at him, but his smile ruined it. “It’s seven-thirty. We’re supposed to be here at eight.”
“Exactly. Bright and early.”
“Do you wake up annoying, or do you have to make a conscious effort?”
Rizzo’s smile grew impossibly wider, and he dropped onto the empty seat next to CJ, like someone who’d never been shy a day in his life. “It’s a gift. Some people get speed or power. I got charm and chaos. Don’t be jealous.”
CJ wasn’t. Not really. Except maybe he was a little, but only because Rizzo’s energy reminded CJ of who he used to be in college—loud, bright, relentlessly friendly. Before pressure and expectation wore him down into this quieter, duller version of himself. Rizzo was the kind of guy who collected people without trying, and it made sense that he’d been the first teammate to decide CJ was worth befriending. “What time did you get here?”
“Before the sun,” Rizzo said cheerfully. “Already ran some drills with Coach Reyes.”
“Christ.”
“You’re wound too tight,” Rizzo said, slapping CJ on the shoulder. “You need to loosen up, or Reyes is gonna make you do yoga.”
CJ blinked. “Is that a joke?
“No.”
“Is it a threat?”
“Yes.”
CJ groaned. “Great.” They fell into a not-quite-comfortable silence.
“So, you and Delgado,” Rizzo said out of nowhere, and CJ stiffened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rizzo tilt his head and felt him studying him.
“Me and Delgado…what?” CJ forced his face into what he hoped looked like a neutral expression and started unpacking his duffel bag.
“You two go way back, right?”
“College teammates,” CJ answered. He thought he’d kept his voice even, but something made Rizzo look at him curiously.
“You two good?”
“We’re teammates,” CJ said stiffly.
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s the only answer I’ve got at the moment.” They were silent for a moment until CJ turned to look at Rizzo. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because you flinched when I said his name.”
“I didn’t flinch.”
“You inhaled dramatically.”
CJ rolled his eyes. “I breathed.”
“Suspiciously.”
“Dominic.”
“Okay, okay,” Rizzo said, palms up. “No need to first name me. I was just asking. He’s a good guy.”
