Page 59 of Running
“Hey, sorry about not responding the other day,” he says as I walk into his room a few minutes later. “It was an insane twenty-four hours with Rori, really thirty-six hours.”
“Yeah, no worries, man.”
A knock comes on the door. “That must be our food. I gotrush service.” He opens up to a server bringing a rolling tray of room service, stacked with scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit.
We don’t waste any time filling our plates full after the server leaves. I sit on the couch in his room, and he grabs the armchair.
“So, what’s up? Everything okay?”
He nods through his bite of eggs. After he swallows, he finally tells me what’s been going on.
“It’s good now, I think. We talked backstage on the auction night for a while. It was intense, you know?” His eyes get more anxious as he recalls that evening. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to see hereveragain, but there she was on stage, and then”—a smile stretches across his face—“I had to deal with you baiting me.”
I put my fork down. “I’m sorry about that. I had a part to play.”
“One day I’ll get you back when you least expect it.” He chuckles. “No, but anyway, our conversation backstage was a lot to absorb at once. She apologized and seemed sincere, but I didn’t feel ready to forget everything that had happened. The breakup, it cut too deep.”
“Sure, that’s understandable.”
“So we made plans for her to come to my place the next night—her last night before leaving for the U.S. Open. I’d had time to think about what I needed to say by then, the commitment I needed to hear from her. And the conversation went really well. We’re back on track.”
“Back together?” I clarify.
“Yeah.” He sounds so happy, a big change from the other day. “And Rori is ready to go public. So we don’t have to hide anymore.”
“Fuck, that’s awesome.”
“Thanks, J. But yeah, that’s why I disappeared for a minute. I really appreciate you being there for me through all of this. Been a life saver to have you to talk to.”
Well, shit. Now the twist in my chest about Grace rises again.
I have to figure this all out.
Our conversation turns to football topics, and soon it’s time to leave the hotel in the team bus. Once we get to the stadium, I get set up in my locker, checking that everything is in place, a routine of mine. Cleats, pads, socks, helmet, #2 jersey—all there, all ready for game one of the season.
The vibe in the locker room is electric when I change into the Waves shirt and shorts I wear for our pre-game warm-ups. We don’t put the full uniform on until game time.
“LET’S FUCKING GO,” I hear from like five different guys before we take the field for the warm-up.
The stadium hasn’t filled up much yet, though there are enough fans in the stands to hear cheers as my passes connect with one of the receivers. The quarterbacks coach chats away to me and the two backups, and it’s a relaxed atmosphere that helps me settle in for the game.
“That arm looks good,” Bailey says as he returns to the locker room with me after warm-ups are done.
Once back at my locker, I put on my pads and uniform. While I’m sitting down to lace on my shoes, Landon walks up to me, and in a ritual now in its sixth season, bangs a hand on my non-throwing shoulder. A love tap from Landon, where I’m protected by my pads.
“QB1, YOU READY?” he says loudly.
“YOU KNOW IT!” I say back, my voice also several decibels louder than my usual tone.
Yeah, I’m going to need to compartmentalize like it’s my job when it comes to Landon, depending on how this goes with Grace.
A counter thought comes forward as soon as that one ends:You know, you coulddoexactlythat—for a short period of time, anyway.
Soon we’re running onto the field, the music and lights getting the crowd on their toes, screaming in excitement before we even emerge.
Once we begin coming through the tunnel, it’s insanity.Seventy thousand people losing their minds from the shared anticipation of watching us compete.
Happily, our hyped energy translates to success during the game itself. By the time we get to halftime, we’re up 17-7, and I have 167 yards with a touchdown, a solid completion ratio, and no interceptions.
