Page 33 of Pick Me This Time

Eric glanced at me, then suddenly bent over and reached for one of the balls lying by his feet. He snapped it at me without warning, but once again, muscle memory kicked in and I caught it easily, grinning at how fast this was all coming back.

“Ash, take a run with Sterling. Just the two of you,” he said. “The rest of you, let’s get working on those cones.”

Eric hadn’t discussed this with me beforehand, but I knew what he wanted me to do. Asher was fast and agile, but as soon as he’d started running, his eyes had hit the ground and hadn’t left it again until he’d reached me.

“Come on, kid,” I said. “We’re playing catch. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?”

“Playing catch?” His features contorted. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Oh.” He ran his hands through his hair before he kicked into motion, jogging to catch up to me. “I just got distracted, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, it will,” I said before I switched tack, breaking into a light jog and waiting for him to do the same before I sent the ball sailing his way. “How long have you been playing?”

“Since you were starting,” he replied, catching the ball easily and passing it back. He still seemed confused about what we were doing, but at least he was cooperating. “I used to come to all your games with my dad. I was only eight when you graduated, but I was five when he started bringing me.”

I chuckled, wondering if I’d ever seen the kid in the stands without even realizing it. “Well, thanks. Now I do feel old.”

The kid cracked a smile, but he kept jogging with me, just easily passing the ball back and forth between us. “Dad always said you were the best player we had. When you played your last game, I thought he was going to cry, so I patted him on the back and told him not to worry. That I’d be even better than you one day.”

“You will be.” There was no point being a dick about it. “You just have to keep your eyes up and your head down, Ash. Just like you’re doing right now.”

He blinked a few times. “I haven’t looked down once, but we were talking.”

“Exactly,” I said. “While you’re playing, you might not be chatting to your teammates, but you need to be communicating. You need to know where the ball is at all times. Where the openings are. Where your teammates are, and where the next guy is who’s going to throw his body at you.”

“Right.” He caught the ball again and remained silent for a while.

We reached the edge of the field, but instead of stopping, I turned and started back down. Thanks to all the running I did back in Manhattan, I wasn’t winded yet, but I knew I’d start feeling it soon if we kept going.

Undeterred, I kept chatting to the boy when it seemed he was getting back into his head, forcing him back out until he seemed to forget he was even running on the ground. He asked me questions about games he’d come to watch with his old man, then asked about my grades and what I’d been up to since I’d left.

All the while, we kept jogging and passing the ball between us, and eventually, I was the one who got distracted. I glanced at the bleachers, nearly tripping over my own feet when I saw Daphne sitting there watching us.

She was even in the exact same spot she’d always picked when she used to come watch Eric and me at practice. Sometimes, she’d be with Rachel or another friend, and other times, she’d been alone. Usually with her nose in a book or a pen in her hand, scribbling in a notepad.

She’d often caught my eye, but she’d been strictly off limits. When I’d realized she’d been catching my eye just a little too much, I’d gone for the cheerleader instead. Fiona, the mean, popular girl who had been the female equivalent of myself in the social hierarchy.

It had felt like she should be who I wanted, so I’d made it happen, but even though she’d been gorgeous, I’d never stopped looking at Daphne from afar. Lusting after the pretty girl I couldn’t have despite having the hottest girl in our year at my side.

“Sterling?” Asher said. “Are you okay?”

I snapped my head back around and saw him smirking at me. “I’m fine.”

“Is that your wife or something?”

“No. Just an old friend.” I did stop jogging though, feeling the sudden urge to show off. It wasn’t like me at all, but these days, what was?

“How about this?” I said. “You reconvene with your team and I’ll pretend to be the QB of the opposing team. Eric will be with me, but it’ll be the two of us against all of you. If I can’t see your eyes, we get a point for every second they’re down.”

“How do we get points?”

“By scoring touchdowns,” I said, like it should’ve been obvious, but it kind of felt like it really should have been. “It’s all of you against us. I mean, how hard can it really be?”

At the time, I’d thought it would be pretty easy—for us, anyway—but it turned out I’d underestimated Eric’s team. The look he gave me when I outlined my deal with Asher said as much, but I didn’t think enough of it as he and I jogged out side by side.

For just a moment, I kind of even expected a crowd to roar, it felt so much like old times, but of course, no one cheered. Even so, we got into the spirit of the exercise pretty fast and the boys came at us like a tide.

We held our own for a couple minutes, but Asher kept his eyes up, costing us all the points I’d thought we would get at least until he remembered what we were doing. The next thing I knew, I felt a hard, heavy weight smack into my side.

I went down, feeling like a tangle of confused limbs as I hit the ground. Hard. The tackle was so bad that I blacked out for a minute, spots dancing in front of my eyes when I woke up again—with Daphne’s face hovering just inches above my own.

If I died and this is heaven, I think I might just take it.