Page 115 of Running
CONNOR: Our soccer games will be done by then, and I’m flying there on Wednesday afternoon after my last class. Do you want to come, Mom?
CONNOR: FYI, I might leave when Rawley does so I can go to his game.
Rawley heart reacts to everyone’s messages, but doesn’t say anything.
It takes an hour for Mom to respond, by which time I’ve moved on to the library.
MOM: We’ll see. My boyfriend may have his daughter over, and I can just eat with them then.
I switch over to the Better Together group chat immediately.
GRACE:
Both Connor and Rawley put “haha” reactions on it, and now Rawley speaks up.
RAWLEY: Get ready to party, Con. Going to be a timeee after the game is over. Need to show my little bro what it’s like to go to a real school.
CONNOR: I’m pretty sure I partied enough with you last year **as a high schooler** to know what to expect.
CONNOR: Does this mean you’re not going to ask me to do your homework this time?
RAWLEY: BURN.
RAWLEY: Gracie, I promise I never actually asked him to do my homework.
RAWLEY: In college anyway.
LANDON: There will be no partying. Only football. Don’t fuck up Rawls.
RAWLEY: Yeah, yeah, I was joking.
RAWLEY: How’s your tan, big bro?
Landon sends a photo of Rori, Grover, and him in response, and it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him look. They’re of course sporting perfect tans, and Grover is licking Rori’s face.
GRACE: Awwww so cute.
RAWLEY: To be clear, she’s talking about Grover, not you.
I laugh too loud for the library, and with a few stares coming my way, I decide to get out of here and walk to my class early.
This class is less engaging (advanced statistics is hardly sizzling stuff), but when I walk out, my good mood has held.
It’s helped by the fact that I’m headed back to Johnson’s tonight—I have no classes on Fridays, so we’re going to relax for the rest of his week off. I’d packed a large duffle bag when we left my condo after the storm, so I don’t have to go back and forth.
I have one last appointment first though, at three—a one-to-one Zoom meeting with Lily that she’d asked us all to set up as a mid-semester check-in before starting on our final essays.
I grab a small study room back at the library and sign into zoom. She joins a few seconds later.
“Hi Grace, I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Me too.” After we make a little small talk about our hurricane experiences, I walk through my essay idea.
“Based on what I’ve seen Landon navigate, I’m interested inexploring improvements to the educational tools we give new players to help them make financial decisions. The business managers understand the dynamics of different investments and strategies, but it’s really tough for players to digest all the information. Granted, Landon doesn’t have a manager yet, but the numbers he’s been given by his accountant are total gibberish to him half the time. I think we can update the look, feel, and scope of financial plans to be more digestible and less intimidating.”
She looks pleased. “Oh, that’s an excellent paper idea, Grace. I love that.”
“New players interest me most because so much is still up in the air about the longevity of their careers. The goal would be to have a presentation framework that could be used with each new athlete to help them make good decisions. Decisions that they feel like they understand.”
