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My shoulders relax.
“Remember Spring break when you made us go on a road trip to Yellowstone, and got chased by that bison?”
I groan. “Actually, you brought up that idea. And the bison chased me because I was shouting at you to stop taking pictures of it on the side of the road and come back to the car!”
I sit up a little straighter. Leila carries on undeterred. “And the surprise birthday party you arranged for me in college? We broke the campus record for the most students to be in a dorm room.”
I shut my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
That was Leila’s other friend, Hollie. I just helped with the preparations. Cramming twenty sweaty college kids into our room until it stank of BO and cheese was not my idea of fun.
“We always have a blast when we hang out. You are fun, Josie. Don’t even question it.”
But I am questioning it. Todd’s voice has taken root inside my head, and it keeps whispering to me in a creepy voice that sounds suspiciously like Gollum.
You’re not fun, Josie. No fun at all.
Leila’s examples did nothing to change my mind. “Well, thanks, girl. See you in the morning.”
After I’ve ended the call, I slurp the last of my shake and stare intently at the lights. I need to start being fun and spontaneous if I’m going to get what I want out of life.
What do I want?
I want a good job. A husband to snuggle in the evenings and maybe a couple of kids too.
I’m probably not going to get a promotion or a husband if people think I’m boring.
I promise myself I’ll start taking more risks and embracing spontaneity. But first… I’m going to the store. A sudden breakup calls for a cartload of ice cream.
2
LOGAN
I look at my watch for the millionth time and slide my tongue across my bottom lip to calm the jitters in my stomach.
My foot keeps tapping the wood floor of its own accord. I’m sitting in the changing room, half-listening to the tireless drone of Martin, my manager.
He’s talking about tactics. Positions. Sports politics.
I hate this side of my job; long meetings with the manager telling us how to play football.
Being an NFL player is a childhood dream come true. There’s nothing in the world that makes me feel more alive than sprinting across the grass with a ball tucked under my arm and plowing into a mob of guys.
The rush of adrenaline is insane. For a long time, I couldn’t get enough. Until now.
For the past ten years, I’ve broken twenty-four bones in my body at some time or another. I’ve played with pneumonia, concussions, cracked ribs.
But nothing is more torturous than sitting in the changing rooms and listening to Martin dissect every second of the playoffs. Or a night like tonight, when he goes over the whole season now that it’s come to an end. He rips our confidence to shreds, only to build us back up with false promises and wishy-washy lines about how strong we’ll be when we return. None of it applies to me this time.
I’ve just played my last game.
As soon as I leave the stadium, I’m never coming back.
It’s been a long season, and I haven’t seen or talked to my girlfriend for months. I don’t want to sit and listen to Martin’s lecture. What I really want now is to get home and surprise Mel. She thinks I’m going to be in the city doing promos for a week before I get back, and she has no idea I’ve made the decision to retire.
In fact, only Martin knows.
We’re finally dismissed.
