Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Like it would be the end of the world if she did.
“You know loss, too, don’t you?” I asked — softly, carefully.
But not careful enough.
Julep sucked in a shallow breath like she was drowning in a memory and my question had pulled her up for her first breath. She shoved my gardening gloves into my chest.
“I have to go,” she said, words tumbling out in a rush, and then she turned and darted across the back yard.
She was through the gate before I could say another word.
Holden
We had a home game the Saturday after my injury.
We lost.
Not for our lack of trying, because the team was phenomenal on the field. Offense converted when they could, defense held our opponents from too many points. My backup, Blake Russo, had been kicking his ass to learn the new playbook this season just as much as I had. He had been ready to go the last two seasons just in case something like this happened, and I appreciated that he took it seriously when the time came.
They all did good.
It just wasn’t good enough.
Even though we only lost by seven, a loss was a loss, and we all felt the weight of it as we moved into the next week. Fortunately, it was the week I could actually start working on rehab, on getting my shoulder back to normal.
I hadn’t been as optimistic as Julep had been when I first got injured. Memories of my major tear and the surgery that went along with it wouldn’t let me be. But as we worked through the first bit of rehab, the stretching and isometric strengthening — I was surprised at how good I felt.
“Because you listened to me and actually rested,” she had said after our first day when I noted my surprise.
It was about the only thing she’d said to me since that morning in my garden.
I thought we were breaking ground, thought maybe I’d defrosted the ice queen — even if only marginally. But after that morning, she had retreated into herself. She wasn’t cold with me the way she had been in the beginning, but she also wasn’t smiling or trying to make conversation the way she had been in the car on the way home from the hospital.
Still, rehab forced her to be around me, and I’d never admit how much I looked forward to those hours in the training room. It didn’t matter the torture she was putting me through, how the smallest movement and exercises made me feel like my shoulder was burning off.
Because at the base of it all, she still had that look in her eyes.
Understanding.
And it felt like I’d built the first pillar of a bridge between us.
At least, until that pillar was knocked down by the hand of a reality check one evening after practice.
I’d sat out, again, watching from the sidelines as we prepared to head on the road and face off against the Rhode Island Trojans. But even from the sidelines, I called out what I saw, coached Russo in-between plays, and instructed my offensive line how to help him gain a little more time in the pocket so he could make his throws. He wasn’t quite as quick as I was, and it took him longer to find the player he wanted, to decide, to wind up and make the pass.
Every second counted.
By the time we made it back to the locker room, I was exhausted and just as sweaty as if I’d been on the field with the rest of the team. I carefully removed my jersey, trying not to anger my shoulder that was still tender even if I was gaining better movement with it.
The locker room was alive with the chatter it usually had, primarily because Kyle had decided we were having a party at the Pit tonight. A big part of me wanted to nip that plan right in the bud, but the other part of me knew the team needed this — a way to blow off steam after our loss, to have a little fun before we took on the Trojans. So, I let it ride, committing to the fact that I’d just have to suck it up for a night.
I had my eyes on where I was taking off my cleats when the buzz died down, and I looked up just in time to see Julep duck into her dad’s office. She rattled off something to him, and he nodded and checked his watch before saying something back. Then, with a simple nod, she rounded out of his office — and she didn’t look at a single player gawking at her as she walked the few short steps that took her back out of the locker room.
Someone let out a wolf whistle, and then the room broke out into a mixture of laughter and talking again.