by Priya Grey
“It always does, especially in a place like this.” Kade looks out his office and motions to the gym floor.
“Well, I guess you heard it didn’t go well,” Nash adds with a shrug.
Kade nods. “I did.”
Nash sighs. “I’ve accepted it. My dreams of playing professionally are just that, dreams. Me and my old man will just have to move on.”
Kade leans back in his chair. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but it happened for a reason.”
Nash sighs again. “That’s what I keep telling myself. But I just don’t buy it,” he admits. “Not yet. It’s too raw.” He pauses for a moment then says, “I just don’t know what to do with my life anymore. I don’t want to be a trainer forever,” he mutters.
“What about owning a gym?” suggests Kade. “That’s what I did when my fighting days looked numbered.”
“It’s just not my thing.” Then Nash admits, “I don’t know what I want anymore. All I know is I got to do something, and I got to figure it out soon.”
Kade gets up and walks around his desk. He stares Nash straight in the eyes. “You want some advice? Take it or leave it. You won’t be able to figure it out with this.” Kade points to his head. “Your body will tell you when something feels right,” he continues. “And the only way that’s going to happen is if you keep yourself open to possibilities. The natural inclination for someone in your position is to close yourself off from the world. Trust me, I’ve been there. But what you should actually be doing is opening yourself up to everything – new experiences, new people. And somewhere along the way, things are going to click. And that’s going to be your new path. It’s scary as shit, not knowing what you want to do. But it’s also exciting. Keep yourself open. Don’t close off. A new path will emerge, trust me.”
All of a sudden, a girl about five years old runs into the office.
“Dad, mom’s outside waiting.”
A huge smile appears on Kade’s face. “I’m coming, sweetie.” He then turns to Nash. “I’m going to some musical.”
“Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory, Dad. It’s like the biggest musical ever. It’s opening night in LA! And we’re going to be late because of you!” shouts the little girl.
“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Hold your horses. Aren’t you going to say hi to Nash?”
“What’s up, Nash?”
“Hanging in there, Carli. You?”
The girl shrugs. “Same.”
Kade gets up and throws on his jacket. He looks at Nash and admits, “Musicals aren’t really my thing. But you know the saying: Happy wife equals happy life.” He looks at Nash sincerely. “We good?”
Nash stands up and nods. “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it,” says Kade. “Catch you later.”
Kade and his young daughter leave the office. Nash follows close behind.
After his conversation with Kade, Nash leaves the gym and heads home. He thinks about what Kade said – how he needs to open himself up to people. The last three years, Nash has done the exact opposite. He’s been isolating himself, closing off. It hasn’t done him any good. Maybe it’s time he ventured out of his self-imposed cave.
During the drive, Nash has another thought – this one much more unsettling. He wonders if he ever really enjoyed playing football, or if he played just to make his dad happy. Nash remembers, growing up, he always wanted to please his father. Did he choose football because he knew that’s what his dad wanted, without giving much consideration to his own dreams and ambition?
Nash pulls his Porsche into the driveway. He decides the reason he chose football doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is figuring out his next move.
When he steps inside the house, he sees Selena, Juliette, and Flo playing a video game in the living room.
Chapter 32
“What’s going on?” asks Nash as he steps into the living room.
“Oh my gosh, sit down. We’re playing Flo’s game, and it’s awesome,” shouts Selena.
Nash stares at me with a surprised look. “You made your own game?”
I shrug and nod sheepishly.
On the ride home from the beach, I mentioned to Juliette and Selena that I was working on my own video game. They insisted on seeing it, and they wouldn’t take no for an answer. I have to admit, I was a nervous wreck showing them my game. But they genuinely seem impressed by my work.
“It’s still not finished,” I tell Nash as he approaches my side. He stares down at the computer screen. Selena is navigating the main character through another area in the forest where a menacing wolf pack lurks. “I finally finished the fourth level. The coding for the lightning bolts were a bitch. But thankfully, I figured it out.”
“This is such a cool, beautiful world. It feels like I’m walking through a dream,” observes Selena as she works the controls.
“That’s what I’m going for,” I tell her.
“What about music?” Selena asks, looking away from the screen.
“That’s the next step. I’ve put in some temp tracks. But there’s still a lot of work I need to do regarding sound design.”
“I can’t believe you did this all on your own,” says Juliette.
“Can I try?” asks Nash.
“Sure.”
Selena steps away from my laptop, and Nash begins playing the game.
“Would you mind if I started playing with some music ideas?” Selena asks me. “You don’t have to use them, if you don’t like them. But I’d love to try and compose something for a video game.”
I can’t believe she’s offering to help. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I’d love to hear what you come up with.”
“Flo, this is really cool,” says Nash.
I watch as Nash tries to save himself from an oncoming wolf pack attack.
“Thanks.”
I feel really proud of myself. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.
“Besides someone at work, you guys and my parents are the only ones who’ve played the game. It still needs a lot of work, though.”
“Yeah, but what you’ve got so far is awesome. I fuckin’ love video games,” says Nash. He seems genuinely enthusiastic as he plays my game.
“Like Warcraft and Metal Gear?” I ask him.
“Yeah. But other kinds too,” Nash says with a shrug. He rattles off a list of other games he enjoys.
“A lot of those are indies,” I reply. “I’m surprised.”
Juliette suddenly shouts, “I’ve got to run!” as she looks at her phone. “Mr. Starbuck beckons!”
As Juliette runs to her room, Selena yells after her, “Juliette, can I grab some weed from you?! I’m going to work on some ideas. I’m feeling inspired.”
“Hurry. My session is about to start!”
Selena rushes to Juliette’s room to grab some pot.
Nash and I remain in the living room. I stand behind him as he continues playing my game. His eyes are glued to the screen, in deep concentration. I marvel at his broad shoulders, bulging through his t-shirt.
“So, how come you’ve played so many different kind of games?” I inquire. “Some of the games you mentioned are pretty obscure, unless you follow the business.”
“After a car accident, I spent a lot of time in bed,” says Nash. He suddenly shifts his body. His character in the video game barely avoids dropping into a ravine. When his player is finally on safe footing, Nash admits, “I spent a lot of time watching the cooking channel and playing video games. I practically wrecked my PlayStation and computer just gaming all the time. I played a bunch of different stuff. And with the whole virtual reality thing coming, these games are going to be awesome.”
“Yeah, that’s what I really want to explore,” I tell him. “VR games. But I need to get further along in the business before that happens. Women working in video games are still a minority.”
“Yeah, that’s going to change though,” says Nash. “So when are you
going to release this?” he asks, his eyes still glued to the screen.
“Oh, I don’t know. A guy at work is interested in helping me out. So we’ll see, maybe soon.”
“That’s really awesome. I’m envious of you. You’re doing something really cool with your life.”
I’m surprised to hear Nash say that. Then suddenly, his character in the game dies.
“Shit. I died,” he laments.
“I can restart it, if you want?”
“That’s okay. I’ll play the next level when you’re done working on it. If that’s cool by you?”
“Of course, I’d love your feedback,” I tell him with a smile. We stare at each other briefly. I feel a nervous energy run through me. He’s so fuckin’ hot; it’s ridiculous. “So, did I hear you correctly? You spent a lot of time watching the cooking channel?”
Nash looks down at the floor and shrugs.
“Yeah. I like to cook.”
“No wonder those burgers you grilled for us were so good,” I tell him. “Are you a serious cook? Or is burgers your only thing?”
Nash looks at me and shrugs his shoulders. He reminds me of a shy, little boy, admitting to something he’s embarrassed by.
“My mom says I make a really great spaghetti and meatballs.”
Nash has just gone from being super hot to beyond adorable. Then the image of spaghetti and meatballs enters my mind. My stomach begins to grumble.
“Please, Nash, will you make me your fantastic spaghetti and meatballs?” I beg.
Nash shakes his head. “No. You’re on a diet.”
“I’ve been eating healthy for over a month and a half,” I whine. “All I’ve been having is kale salads with chicken, or protein shakes. Please. Don’t I deserve at least one cheat meal? And if your spaghetti and meatballs are so good, then prove it. Because I’ll tell you something, there’s one thing I know a lot about – and that’s pasta. I’ve consumed tons of it in my short time on this earth.”
Nash shakes his head and smirks. “You’re unbelievable.”
Oh, I’ll show you unbelievable, I think to myself. I get down on my knees and beg. “Please, Nash, make me your spaghetti and meatballs. Now that the image is in my mind, it won’t leave.”
“Are you being serious, right now?” He asks looking down at me, with an amused grin.
I nod. Then I decide to take another tact. “Or maybe you don’t want to make it, because your spaghetti and meatballs aren’t that good? Even though your mom says they are. But we both know, you can’t trust your mother to be impartial. Maybe you’re just using my diet as an excuse? Because you don’t want to put your cooking skills to the test.”
Nash looks at me in silence. Then he nods slowly and says, “Alright Florence Hill. Get up. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
“Thank God,” I mutter as I get up from my knees.
Luckily, we have all the ingredients Nash will need to make his meal. After preparing the meatballs from scratch, he moves onto the sauce.
“The key is the sauce,” Nash says as he cuts up some garlic and mashes a bunch of tomatoes – stirring it all together in a pot. The delicious aroma wafts toward my nostrils. My stomach growls in appreciation.
As we wait for the sauce to simmer properly, Nash turns to me and asks, “So, this online guy you’re going to meet. What’s he like?”
“He’s great. Likes video games. Likes Prince. All these things are very important to me. And based on his picture, he’s very cute. That’s why I want to get into shape before he sees me. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” says Nash looking at me. “Shouldn’t you be worried he doesn’t disappoint you?”
“You sound like Selena.”
Nash looks at the pot, boiling with water. “Can you hand me the pasta?”
“Sure.” I reach over and grab the bag of pasta. As I give it to him, Nash’s hand caresses mine. A sense of excitement rushes through my body. When I look up, Nash stares at me with his deep-blue eyes. We stay locked in that moment, just gazing at each other.
“You can let go of the bag,” Nash eventually says.
“Right, of course,” I say quickly, releasing the bag of pasta and looking down.
He opens the bag and drops the pasta into the pot.
We’re silent for a moment, both staring at the boiling water. As I look at him, I decide to broach a topic we’ve never discussed. “I read about your accident and how it ruined your chances to play football. That must have been tough, probably still is, not being able to play.”
Nash sighs and leans against the kitchen counter. “It is. But I guess other people have to deal with far worse.”
He looks at me. I feel that tingle in my body again. I’ve only felt this before with Beowulf in the blue room. Nash and I keep staring at each other. Then suddenly, the pot boiling with water and pasta begins to overflow.
“Shit!” Nash exclaims as he lowers the heat.
I laugh, and he smiles.
When the pasta is finally cooked to his liking, Nash drains the water. He takes a plate and serves me the pasta and meatballs. Then he hands me a fork.
“Okay, judge,” he says with a smirk. “Tell me what you think?”
As I stare at the plate, the delicious blend of tomato sauce and garlic overwhelms me with delight. I plunge my fork into the pasta and twirl it. I take a bite. It is beyond delicious. Then I take a bite of the meatball, which Nash prepared by hand. I feel like I’ve entered heaven. I close my eyes and savor the mouth-watering yumminess.
“What do you think?”
I open my eyes. I’m shocked. Nash is staring at me with worry. He has no idea how delicious this meal truly is.
I lower my fork and stare at him. With all seriousness, I say, “Nash, there are two things I’m an expert in: playing video games and food. During my life, I’ve had more plates of spaghetti and meatballs than I honestly want to remember right now. But this,” I point to the plate. “Is the best fuckin’ spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever had.”
Nash’s nervous expression fades. A smile spreads across his face. He throws a kitchen towel over his shoulder. Then he shakes his head. “You’re just saying that because you’ve been on a diet. Anything with carbs right now would taste delicious.”
I vehemently shake my head. “Not true. I know when something is delicious or just mediocre. And your spaghetti and meatballs are amazing. You should consider becoming a cook.” I plunge my fork into the plate for round two. “Your burgers were awesome, too. But this dish is incredible. If you can’t play football, why don’t you think about becoming a chef?”
Nash looks down at the floor and shrugs. “I’ve never really given it much thought.”
After sucking a perfectly cooked spaghetti into my mouth, I tell him, “Well, I really think you should.”
“Maybe,” Nash says with a nod.
After I finish my plate, I offer to do the dishes. But Nash refuses. “I’ll take care of it. Get some sleep. Remember, tomorrow we do pool exercises.”
“Right,” I mumble. I’m so not looking forward to putting on a bathing suit.
Chapter 33
The following morning, I examine myself in the mirror. I’m wearing the bathing suit Juliette and Selena recommended I buy – the black and white daisy print with a bandeau accent. Feeling uncomfortable, I look at my poster of Prince.
“He’s probably going to stop training me after he sees me in this?” I fret out loud. Then I nod, imagining Prince’s response. “I know. I know. I need to work on my self-esteem. It’s just so hard in a city with so many beautiful people. Do you know what I’m saying, Prince?”
Then I hear Nash yell from outside, “I’m waiting!”
“Shit, I have to go,” I say to the poster.
I nervously walk through the house, my bottom half covered in a wrap. When I step outside, Nash is already in the pool.
“Great. Get in,” he says when I appear.
“O
kay,” I mumble nervously. Then I suddenly point up to the sky. “Nash, is that a hawk?!”
Nash turns around.
“I don’t see a hawk,” he comments.
My distraction worked. I quickly drop the wrap and jump into the pool.
“Oh, it’s cold!” I shout.
“I thought you were from Minneapolis,” says Nash, turning back around. “Isn’t it cold there all the time? Stop being such a wimp.”
“I’m very sensitive to my climate,” I protest. “And right now, I’m freezing. I’m freezing. I’m freezing.”
“Flo, the pool is heated. It’s not that bad.”
I realize Nash is right. My body begins to adjust to the water temperature. “Okay, now I’m getting warmer. I’m getting warmer. Okay, now it’s not so bad.”
Nash rolls his eyes. “Are you finished?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Today we’re going to work on water exercises.”
“Good thing we’re in a pool,” I quip.
Nash shoots me a look. “Less sarcasm.”
“I’ll try.”
“Take this.” Nash hands me a water noodle. “Our first exercise is going to work your arms, chest, back, abs, butt, and legs.
“Is there anything left?” I sass.
“Less talking.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Take the noodle and stand with your feet apart. With your hands holding the noodle above the water, make sure they’re about shoulder length apart. Then press your arms down, submerge the noodle under the water. At the same time, raise your left leg behind you, until you’re parallel to the bottom of the pool. Then return to your starting position. Do ten reps for your left side, then another ten for your right.”
Holding the noodle in my hands, I perform the exercise.
“Good job,” says Nash.
When I finish all the reps, he tells me to take a break.
“Thank god,” I mutter.
Nash looks at me and asks, “So, this guy at work that wants to help you out with your game, do you trust him?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I don’t really know him.”
