Page 4 of Catching Feelings

My head snaps up at that, mouth dry and heart hammering. “What kind of call?”

Coach Herman gives me a weird look. I swallow and try to look normal. “He said you were one of his best players and he was real sorry to lose you this season. And I said sure, you looked promising, but transfers usually start on JV. And he said I’d put you on varsity if I knew what was good for me.”

I can barely feel relieved it was a good phone call. I’ve only known Coach Herman a few days, but he’s a lot more talkative than my last coach. I’m gonna be doing plenty of slow and controlled breathing this season. “And…?”

He lets me wait for a long minute. So long, the late-summer roaring of crickets in my ears becomes as deafening as a field full of chain saws. “And I think he’s right. Welcome to Hamilton Lakes Varsity, Tyler.”

The grin breaks across my face before I can hold it back. “Thank you, Coach. You won’t regret it.”

He holds out his hand for me to shake, grinning in return. But then his expression turns serious again. “I better not. Your coach said your last team got… complicated. That won’t happen here, will it?”

And just like that, the cloud of foreboding I’ve been living with for months is back over me. The reminder that last spring I lost everything I thought I could rely on, and it could happen again. “No, sir. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He regards me for one more moment, then nods. “Good. Now hit the showers. You smell like the inside of a tackle dummy that hasn’t been washed since 1987.”

I jog off with a grin. Not even the reminder of Brownsville can bring me down.

As I rinse off and get dressed in clean sweats, I soak it in.

I’m on another team. And a good one.

I’m not sure I’ll make the cut to play in college—Brownsville didn’t have the connections with top scouts that other schools did, so it was never worth considering—but I’ve always been good enough to exceed the high school bar. And thank God, because I really need football this year. The outlet for everything swirling within me, everything I can’t understand unless it’s through my body, through the kinetic catharsis of running and blocking and hitting.

I head to the parking lot with my backpack slung over one shoulder. The sky is turning cotton-candy pink overhead, and the lot is nearly empty, the rest of the team long gone.

In Brownsville, I’d be riding home with Jared and Santi. Santi would try to discuss the plays we botched in practice, but all Jared cared about was deciphering whether Avery’s new earring means he likes guys or just jewelry. I have to tilt my head up to the sky to breathe through the punch to the gut. Are they having the same conversations without me this fall?

I shake my head and quicken my pace. Another reason I’m glad for the Hamilton Lakes team. I need the distraction from what’s happening back home, from the fact that I’m in a new town for my senior year where I don’t know anyone.

Well. Almost anyone.

There’s one car left in the lot, and atop its hood sprawls a guy having a one-man photoshoot. Elbow propped behind him, head dangling back, blond waves brushing the windshield. Phone lifted, angles found. Golden hour glinting off cheekbones.

Ryan only stops snapping photos when I clear my throat. “Oh, hey, man!”

“Am I… interrupting something?”

“Nah, nah.” He waves a hand and holds his phone out to me. “Just taking some pics to send a girl who won’t text me back. What do you think? You can swipe through.”

“Um. Maybe not the shirtless one. Comes on a little strong.”

“You think?” He frowns in disappointment. “I thought the composition was nice, with the sky and everything.”

Ryan and I spend every family holiday together—he’s my closest cousin in both age and interests, and he’s easy to get along with—but I don’t quite know him well enough to gauge his tone. I get the sense Ryan is always both joking and entirely serious. “… yeah. For sure. Your call.”

He studies his screen for another long moment before pocketing the phone. “Okay, you might have a point. We’ll workshop it back home. You ready to go?”

I nod, sliding into the passenger seat. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Not a problem. It was cool to see Will and Gabe. You meet them today?”

I look out the window at the passing scenery of Hamilton Lakes. It’s a really pretty little town, all brick buildings and shady oak trees downtown, the white clock tower in the center of the square the tallest thing around. “Yeah. They seem cool, but we didn’t talk much.” And no matter how cool they were, I’m not sure how much I want to talk to them.

“Great, great.” Ryan takes a left-hand turn a little too recklessly, and a car approaching from the opposite direction lays on the horn. Ryan just waves sheepishly before continuing to plow down the street, going about ten over the speed limit. “Will and I have been tight ever since we had to survive bio together freshman year, and Gabe’s a great guy—he’s on the baseball team too. We’ll introduce you around.”

“Oh, that’s not—”

“You won’t be wanting for friends as long as you’re staying with me! Soon everyone will forget you haven’t been here for three years already!” Ryan beams.