Page 8 of Penalty Kick

“I think it’s cute the way he comes in here just to see you,” Sax tossed over her shoulder before heading to help a customer.

“He does?” Felicity asked.

Talia nodded. Maybe she’d been keeping more from Felicity than she’d realized. Felicity was the person she confided in, the one who knew the things she didn’t tell others. Including that big secret she was harboring. There was never any judgment from her, which had always made Talia feel accepted. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to admit to any kind of interest in Dash. Even to Felicity.

“And you’re sure there isn’t anything between you? It's okay if there is. I won’t tell Gunnar; you know that.”

“I’m sure,” Talia insisted. “The attention is nice, weird, and sometimes annoying, but flattering. But I’ve told you goals, dreams, things I want to do with my life that don’t involve dating. I have no interest in Dash—or any other guy for that matter. Work, school, Unified team. Those are my priorities.”

Felicity nodded, a bright smile on her face. “Good. I’m all about that. Buuuuuut, that said, you told me that when you met the person who changed your mind, you’d know. So I just want to make sure you’re not fighting what your heart is telling you.”

“Work, school, Unified team,” she repeated, hoping Felicity would believe her. Because she certainly didn’t believe herself. “I want to be accepted into the Renaye program so bad I can taste it. That way I can finish my undergrad and get my master’s at the same time, and not feel so far behind after dropping out for two years. That program is a lot of work, and that is where my focus needs to be.”

“Okay, then you have my support. Just like I know that you will support Dash in being the best role model he can be.”

The clatter of Felicity’s phone vibrating against the hard wood of the bar filled the air, making all three women jump. Talia laughed as Felicity rolled her eyes when she looked at the screen, slipping out of her chair to take the call.

“You’re still okay to take care of Tanner this afternoon, right? Or should I reschedule my appointment?” Saxony asked, appearing by her side.

“I got this. Go do what you need to do, and I’ll bring Tanner home after practice.”

Saxony nodded, mouthing thank you as she walked backward toward the customers who were seating themselves at the end of the bar. Based on the rising noise level, Bunz was starting to fill up for the lunch rush, which was more than fine by her. Staying busy would keep her mind off Dash—and how they were going to be spending a lot more time together.

It was a good thing she had lots of practice at saying no.

CHAPTER THREE

Of all the things Talia had not been prepared for in her move to Georgia, the summer was at the top of the list. The heat wasn’t what bothered her. She could handle heat. Growing up in Arizona, where it often felt like the surface of the sun outside, she could handle the temperatures that Atlanta was hitting. It’s not like it was cold outside by any means, but at least the thermometer wasn’t registering oven temperatures. The humidity, however, now that was a different story.

Walking to the side field where the Unified team held their practice, she felt like she was swimming through soup. The air was hot and thick, her clothes sticking to her already sweaty body. She had no idea how the first team practiced in this without passing out. She’d been out here for all of five minutes and already wanted to find an excuse to go sit inside the beautifully air-conditioned training center.

“Hey!” Avery’s sweet southern accent greeted. She was carrying a large orange water jug, big enough that Talia was pretty sure the petite redhead could fit inside if she tried.

“Want some help?”

Talia rushed over to her roommate, holding out her hands, trying to figure out the best way to grab the jug so the both of them didn’t topple over. Everything about it, and the way Avery was holding on to it, seemed awkward. Then again, that might just be Avery in general.

“No, I got it,” she answered. “And if I let you try, we’ll both be wearing the Gatorade, and that is not how one should properly get their electrolytes.”

“If there is ice involved, right about now, I’ll take it.”

They both laughed, but the sound of a high-pitched squeal overpowered them. Turning to look, Talia let out another laugh, this time at Jono, one of the Unified team members, who was sliding on his knees in front of the goal, arms raised high, a look of sheer joy on his face. Liam was behind him, his smile just as big as Jono’s, as he retrieved the ball from the net.

As with many of the kids, Talia wasn’t sure exactly what Jono’s official diagnosis was—but it didn’t really matter to her. The diagnosis itself wasn’t going to help her much. It was all a bunch of big words that meant little to her.

What was helpful was the “cheat sheet” in each kid’s file that provided them with each kid’s ability and the areas where they struggled. That was what she’d spent her time studying so she knew how to work with each one. Knew who was nonverbal, who had fine motor skills challenges, or who had a physical limitation. To anyone on the outside, Jono looked like any other teenager out there, until he spoke and his apraxia of speech—where his brain had trouble coordinating the use of his mouth for talking—was on full display. According to his file, Jono was often frustrated with his inability to communicate—something Talia couldn’t blame him for. She had yet to see that frustration though. Maybe because he was around others who were like him in a way, he felt more at ease. She wasn’t really sure. In this moment, one thing was clear. He was riding high after scoring on Liam.

“Nice job, Jono!” Talia called out, holding up two thumbs-up in his direction. Her heart squeezed, overjoyed with the opportunity to work with these kids.

The rest of the team trickled in, joining Jono and Liam on the pitch. Once everyone was there, Talia had them circle up and start stretching. Avery helped lead them in this, walking around and making sure that everyone was doing everything properly, or at least to the best of their ability. She knew that having Avery help with this meant more to the kids than anyone could ever say. It was just one more way that the Unified team felt like they were just as important as the first team. Sharing a physical therapist might be simple, but to them, it meant everything.

A tug on her shirt sleeve stole Talia’s attention from the group. Tanner stood to her left, his eyes wide and full of excitement, looking as if he might take flight.

“What has you so excited?” she asked.

“Ta-ahhhhh-ya,” he said, her name drawn out by his own speech disorder. As someone who was mostly nonverbal, Tanner didn’t refer to many by name. Talia had been shocked the first time he’d said hers, and loved the sound of it every time he said it.

“What?” she asked again, anticipation building within her. Whatever it was that had Tanner this excited must really be something.