by Claire Adams
“Believe it, kid. You got a lot of eyes on you,” the shorter guy says. “Whatever your first offer is, don’t take it. Hold out for something better.”
“No pressure, huh,” I said lightly.
“Hit all the physical stuff hard enough, and they don’t give a shit about the rest,” the shorter one said. I laughed a little. If that was advice, I wasn’t taking it.
“That’s what I’m here to do.”
“And, we’ll be watching,” the taller one said again. I knew they were. That meant I had to kill it.
I waited to feel something, even when I was up and had to do my first evaluation. We weren’t playing, but the field was the one place I’d never had to be nervous because this was what I did. I could play. My body knew how to move, and it hadn’t failed me yet. It sure as shit wasn’t going to start today.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Veronica
Tiffany cursed from across the table, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm just not sure I'll be able to get this done before it's due." She had been tapping furiously at her laptop, pausing every so often to swear and delete everything she had just typed.
"Isn't it due next week?"
"With work and my other classes, it's going to be tight. I don't want to swap quality for finishing it fast. I don't know why this is so difficult."
I watched her start over. We were at my place. Sometimes I worked better with a study buddy. Usually, she wasn't so stressed out, though. I figured it was just balancing work and school that was getting to her. It was hard. She had a lot on her plate, and I worried sometimes that she'd hit burnout and never recover. She was writing a paper for one of her economics classes, so it wasn't even one I could look at and help her put together.
"How about starting with something else? Or tackling the easiest part first."
"I should get this out of the way first."
"If you do that, you'll never get to anything else. Do something simpler first. No, you know what? Let's take a break," I announced. I got up and walked into the kitchen. I started on making us both cups of coffee; I knew how Tiffany liked hers. Sweet and white, maybe it would help. She took it gratefully when I came back to the dining room. Her laptop was shut and books closed.
"Better?" I asked as she took a sip."
"Let's see in about ten minutes," she smiled wryly.
"Can you believe the people who come back to school after kids and stuff? Can you imagine parenting and studying at the same time?"
"I don't know where the hell I would start. This is hard enough," she said. "I'm barely keeping it together having a job at the same time."
"You're doing great," I said, smiling at her.
"Maybe it's a good thing I don't have a boyfriend. I wouldn't even have time for him."
"Yeah, if he was needy like a five-year-old and not also a student."
"College relationships are pointless," she said, "no offense. I mean the other ones. Not yours."
"I'm in a relationship?"
"I'd say going on dates and hooking up means you're in a relationship," she said smirking at me.
"I don't know whether we're labeling it."
"You don't have to. The labeling happens whether you like it or not. You're acting like a taken woman already."
"Taken," I scoffed. I had a weird feeling about being taken, especially by Roman. I had been for so long, then suddenly wasn't. I didn't know whether I was comfortable with saying that I was again, no matter how many dates we went on or how many times we slept together.
"Did you guys talk before he left?"
"He came here yesterday to say goodbye."
"He did? That was sweet."
"He was still leaving, though."
"You're really not giving him that?"
"No, I am. I'm just saying. It's getting more and more complicated."
"Complicated in a good way, though, right?"
"It would be good if he didn't have to leave," I said. "I know he has to and he wouldn't if he didn't need to do it, but it still sucks."
"You're falling for him."
"We dated for almost three years."
"You fell for him then and it's happening again now. That's why you're so upset that he's gone."
"No, it isn't," I said defensively. It was. It totally was, but I didn't want to acknowledge it and make it true. She looked at me with the same deep blue eyes her brother had.
"I know he's going to wait for you, Vee, as long as you make him, but you have to see that he means what he says to you."
I was supposed to be the psych major, but it wasn't possible to shrink yourself. I just needed some time. I wasn't blowing him off, and I wasn't lying to him about how I felt. He knew I was unsure about what was happening between us. She still had a point, though, no matter what I felt.
"Have you heard from him?" I asked.
"Yeah, earlier today. He texted." Did he ask about me?
"How is he?"
"Fine. He said everything's going well. He sounded confident about his performance."
"That's good. Right?"
"He's there to impress scouts, so that's very good."
"He really wants this. I hope it works out," I said.
"He's lucky he has you supporting him."
"How can I not? I wish what I felt with him was simple. I want him to be happy, and that means this. Going away for the combine and then probably again to play for whoever signs him. I just feel the closer we get, the worse it'll be when we have to separate again."
"You have to trust him, Vee. Talk to him. He loves you, and he isn't going to do anything that's going to fuck things up between you."
"You're right," I said, admitting it to myself at the same time. I could panic and keep trying to deny that it was true, or I could accept it. It shouldn't have been this difficult opening up to someone who I had trusted and had a history with already. I could only say it was because of what he had done to me for so long. Part of it was just me, not giving as much as I was getting from him.
"He's really serious, Vee. I know I'm biased because you're my best friend and he's my brother, but you guys are good together," she said shrugging.
"I know," I agreed, sighing.
"Oh, and if you were wondering, yeah. He did ask about you. He asked me to tell him how you were. I told him to ask you himself. He's going to call."
"Don't tell me that. I'm gonna expect it now," I said.
"Well, you won't have to wait too long."
Eventually, Tiff had to leave for work. I ended up leaving to go to the grocery store. What did I feel like having tonight, I thought, filling the shelves of my fridge with produce. I had made the frittata the day before to clean the veggie box out and since Roman had joined me for breakfast, I didn’t have any leftover. That was the one drawback of living on your own and cooking for yourself: leftovers. They were good when you needed something fast and convenient, but if you overshot how much rice you needed to make risotto by accident, you were eating it for the next three days.
The mushrooms looked good. I thought through what I would need to cook them into a sauce that I could put over pasta. Roasting them with some sprouts, carrots, and peppers sounded good, too. I had never tried making mushroom soup at home before, I could do that. I could freeze soup and making it would justify the bread I had gotten... But it was summer, I couldn't eat soup. I decided to throw them in the oven with the peppers and sprouts. The leftovers could go in a salad, sandwich, or quiche.
Midway through prep, a call came through on my phone, hiding the recipe screen. The name stopped me for a second: it was Sean. I almost laughed. Sean? When had we last talked? Two weeks ago? Why was he calling me now? If memory served, the last thing he had said to me was an ultimatum. I give him one good reason to keep going out with me or he wouldn't anymore, like I was up for elimination on America's Next Top Model or something.
I let it keep ringing, I didn't even feel bad w
hen he called back and I did it again. In my defense, I was busy, I didn't want to pick my phone up while I was cooking, but more than that...fuck that guy.
Was he still waiting on that reason to date him, instead of the new woman he met? I didn't have one, there was his answer. I had Roman. Putting it so black and white made my spine tingle. I had him. Why the hell would I waste time with someone who needed me to convince him to date me?
Why the hell would I waste time with Sean anymore anyway? He was awful. I'd never get any of the time we spent together back. He couldn't communicate; he was terse and emotionally unintelligent. His relationship practices and mine didn't mesh. I had Roman and whatever little interest I had had in Sean was gone.
I ate dinner in front of the television before heading to bed. I heard my phone vibrate again. Please don't be Sean again, I thought. Roman's name flashed on my screen instead. My excitement ticked up slightly. He had said he would call me, I thought. The fact that I had halfway been expecting it didn't mean I wasn't excited that he had actually done what he said.
"Hello?" I said, picking up.
"Hey, babe," he said over the phone. I smiled, rolling onto my side and tucking the phone between my ear and the pillow. The word Tiffany had used flashed through my mind again. Taken.
"Hi. How did it go today?"
"Alright. How was your day?"
"Just alright?"
"It was a bunch of sweaty guys trying to impress the men in suits," he said lightly. "Think of watching a practice session, but this one's in a huge stadium and not that interesting unless you know what's supposed to be happening."
"It doesn't sound very fun."
"It's not," he said. "It's work."
"But you're having a good time?"
"Good enough, I guess. It's good to hear you." I smiled.
"It's good to hear from you, too. I was a little scared you wouldn't be able to get in touch."
"I said that I would," he said simply. I couldn't imagine what he was describing very well, but I knew it was a big deal. It made me feel special that he wanted to keep in contact with me when he was so busy.
"What about the city? Is it nice?"
"Oh, you'd love Houston," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If you weren't in class I would have asked you to come with me." I took a deep breath.
"Maybe next time?" I said hopefully.
"Yeah...maybe next time." I smiled at that. It wasn't a promise or anything, but it was the way we always talked in the past about the places we wanted to see together. "I can't wait to get back. I fly in Friday. What are you doing then?"
"I don't have anything planned. Why? Do you need a ride from the airport?"
"No," he laughed, "I want to take you out."
"The night you get back? Won't you be tired?"
"Are you blowing me off, Ron?" I could hear the smile in his voice.
"No. I'm excited to have you back. I'm sort of mad I let you go."
"Four more days. You can last that long, can't you?"
"Just because I can doesn't mean I want to," I said. "I got spoiled having you back in town again."
"I'll make it up to you, starting with dinner when I get back." I'm going to need more than just dinner, I thought. I hadn't expected to miss him so much. I had just had breakfast with him yesterday morning and here I was, wishing I wasn't falling asleep alone tonight.
"I'm looking forward to it," I told him. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but it scared me. I wasn't sure that I should have been ,and I didn't know whether I was allowed to feel safe being that vulnerable. Years together before we split said that I could, but I just wasn't ready yet. If I said I loved him, it meant I was letting him back in, all the way.
"I'm going to miss you," I said quietly, giving him that since I couldn't say the other thing.
"I'm going to miss you, too. I'll call you tomorrow."
"I'd like that," I said, smiling. We said goodnight, and I ended the call. When would it end? Would I stop feeling like this was new and exciting again? I loved the routines and comfort we used to have, but part of me didn't want this dating and discovery phase to end. I put my phone away and got ready to fall asleep. The phone call had been just what I needed.
.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Roman
I sat staring at the wall in front of me. The book I had gotten to read while I waited was this murder mystery thriller title and almost fifty pages in wasn't really doing it for me. I felt like I had to commit to it now, though, since I was already invested. Plus, it was too late to go try to buy another.
I felt like airports were like hospitals, everyone in there was suffering a little bit somehow. I didn't dislike traveling, but it was a hassle sometimes. Today, I was just wishing I had managed to get myself an earlier flight than the one I had.
I thought about talking to Veronica, but I had been texting her all week. I wanted to see her already. We had a date tonight, was the light at the end of the tunnel as the week had dragged on. I didn't like the distance between us, even though it was necessary. Now that this was over, I was looking forward to some time with her. If I ended up hearing back from anyone, it would probably only be in a couple weeks or something.
Leaning back in my seat, I tried to get into the book. A man walking by came up and asked whether the seat I was using for my duffel was taken. I told him it wasn't and moved it to the floor so he could sit. He was in a suit and sat up straight in his seat. He was talking on his phone with one of those earpiece things that made people look crazy, walking around talking out loud on their own.
"Are you here from the regional combine?" I heard him say, then repeat because it turned out he wasn't talking on his phone anymore. I turned to look at him. He looked about late thirties or early forties, trim, normal-looking with short hair.
"Yeah, actually. I am," I said, a little surprised. Either that had been a good guess because so many guys were flying back home after the event so this place was rotten with us, or he recognized me somehow. If he did, that only made one of us.
"I'm Andrew. Andrew Richardson," he said, introducing himself.
"Roman Blake," I said, shaking the man's hand.
"I remember you," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I saw you at the combine. You had the bench press record. 42 reps, right? That was impressive."
"Thanks," I said, not sure why he felt like telling me all this. I knew he wasn't a player. He wasn't really built like one, and he looked like he had probably aged out maybe seven years ago. No offense meant.
"Yeah. I scout for a couple teams around here. How long have you played QB?" he asked. Shit, he really had been paying attention.
"Most of high school. For college, I started for two years."
"Just two?"
"Two years was as long as I was in school. I just got back from Afghanistan." He sat forward a little, impressed.
"So this isn't even you at one hundred percent?"
"I made sure I kept my conditioning up, but I haven't really played, not for about a year."
"I thought you were good, kid, but that changes everything," he said. "Listen, I'm not supposed to tell you this, not this early, but my people have their eye on you."
"They're interested in signing me?"
"You're a real QB. If that's how you look after a year off, what the hell are you gonna pull out after training? I'm not supposed to tell you this, either, but give it a week or so, someone will be calling you and they might be making you an offer," he said grinning.
"That sounds great. What team?"
"That gonna be something that makes you say no?"
"No, I'm just curious," I said quickly.
"Relax. I'm just messing with you. Where are you from?"
"Aberdeen. South Dakota."
"Aberdeen, huh? Well, how does Miami sound?"
Miami? Far. It sounded far. I didn't say that, though. I said it sounded good and that I had never been. He gave
me his card, and when I thanked him and said I would call, he insisted on taking my number himself. He ended up boarding before me for another flight, so I was alone again. I tried to get into the book, but it didn't work. I read the same three sentences over and over till I gave up.
Miami?
All those times Ron and I used to talk about going to see the ocean together swelled up in my memory. Miami was right on the water. It was also thousands of miles away. I knew that I would have to deal with some distance, but how far was too far? Miami felt too far, and if that was how I felt, how would Ron feel.
Was I going to tell her? I had to, didn't I? I didn't want to hide things from her, the last time I had, it had been a disaster. How the hell would I break it to her, though? We're finally doing good and then this happens? I have to go to Miami? The boarding call for my flight interrupted my thoughts.
This was about to be a long flight.
"I'm gonna have to start charging you for these rides," Tiffany said as I walked up to her. "Normal people get cabs."
"Good to see you, too, Tiff," I said, smirking.
"How'd it go?" she asked. I threw my bag in the back and got in the passenger side.
"You know. Fine," I said shrugging. She started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.
"Just fine?" she asked. I shrugged again.
"It was football, I've been playing for almost as long as I've been able to catch a ball."
"You know what I mean, Roman."
"It was good."
"Hm." She made the sound the way our mother used to. I think it was a woman thing, being able to tell someone they were ticking you off without even opening your mouth.
"What?"
"It's fine if it didn't work out, Roman. What matters is you did it, and you're going after what you want." I looked at her, frowning.
"What are you talking about, Tiff?"
"I mean, it doesn't matter what happened this week."
"What do you think happened? I said it was good."
"I remember you telling me that you could join a minor league team and work your way up-"
"Tiff," I cut her off, "none of that happened. It was good."
"So, you're joining a team?"
