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“That’s not . . .”
That wasn’t true. Was it? It wasn’t that Nolan didn’t let himself form connections; it was that everyone else didn’t want him forming connections with them. He was always the odd one out. The introverted one who preferred to listen than to participate, which meant that when he tried to be heard, everyone spoke over him.
“Look,” King said. “Do you want some unsolicited advice?”
“Not really.”
“Do you think this guy might be interested in you too?”
Nolan placed Eli’s letter on the table and pressed the crumpled edge flat. “I think he might be.”
“Then just go for it. Or at the very least, put out some feelers.”
Feelers. Yes, Nolan could put out feelers.
In fact, he had a pretty good idea how to do exactly that.
chapter
seven
“Hold the elevator!”
Juggling three smoothies, a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, and an apple, Eli stuck a foot out to keep the elevator door from closing on Assistant Coach Friedle.
“Ah, Eli,” Friedle said as he stepped inside. “Here you are. I was looking for you.”
“Here I am. What’s up, Coach? Want a smoothie?”
“No, I . . .” Friedle eyed Eli’s bundle of snacks as he pressed the button to close the doors. “Why do you have three of them?”
“I’m starving,” Eli told him. “Practice was brutal no thanks to you.”
Friedle quirked an eyebrow. “Actually, practice is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Eli forced his shoulders not to roll inward. Fuck, practice had gone well, hadn’t it? Was Friedle about to tell him that he was failing there too?
“Specifically about extra practice,” Friedle continued as the elevator crawled upward. “If you have time this afternoon, I’d like to take you through a few drills. I think some extra practice might help you get past whatever mental block is holding you back this season.”
Eli wasn’t sure whether he should thank Friedle for the offer or question him about the mental block thing. What mental block?
He went with the former. “Thanks, Coach, but I’m committed this afternoon. I’m taking a few high school students around the arena and introducing them to some of the staff.”
The elevator doors opened on the top floor, and Friedle waved Eli out first. “I thought Prinnie was doing that.”
“He was,” Eli said. “But something came up, so I’m filling in. I appreciate the offer, though. Maybe we could schedule extra practice for next week?”
Friedle nodded and made a left toward the coaches section of the Trailblazers’ offices. “Send me your schedule and I’ll set something up.”
“Sure. Thanks, Coach.”
Eli cracked the top of one smoothie and swallowed it back in four gulps before tossing the empty bottle into a nearby recycle bin. He had twenty minutes before the students arrived, thus twenty minutes to feed his empty stomach and get the instructions from Jen on precisely what, exactly, was expected of him with the students.
All he had to do in those twenty minutes was avoid the social media team.
“Eli, hey, I was just about to send you an email about recording a house tour.”
For precisely that reason.
