Page 29 of Chasing Headlines

“Um, areyouok?” She tilted her head and looked up at me.

I stared at her mouth. “You talk a lot.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “That's what you have to say? Not a 'you ok? So sorry, I didn't see you there. Can I help you with your things after rudely colliding with you?'“

I didn't catch all of it, but maybe if I did the last thing, she'd move out of my way? And I could get food, drink a gallon of water, take a shower? I stunk to hell and back.

Help her with her stuff.Right. I set my backpack down and knelt at her feet. I tried not to think about those short running shorts or how good it'd feel to slide my fingers over the curve of her calf, up to her hip. I shoved all her shit into her bag and tossed it to her. I retrieved her phone from the tile floor.

“That’s, um. Yeah. Thanks.” She pulled the device from my grip.

I pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “You're ok?”

“Yeah.” She pulled the bag over her shoulder. “Got bowled over by a human freight train, but lived to tell the tale. I pity any catcher that tries to get in your way.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile.

So many words. No wonder she had to write them all down. “But you’re fine?”

“Yeah. Do you need me to sign a waiver?” She said with a shrug.

Red hazed into my vision. “I’d say yes, but reporters are lying snakes in the grass. So wouldn’t matter.”

“I . . .” Her jaw worked, but no sound came out.

An errant thought about her mouthworkingflit through my traitorous brain.

“I’m not? I wouldn’t. We'reon the same team, Coop.” She pointed at her jersey as if that was 'proof' or whatever. It sure as hell wasn't.

“We’re not.” I shook my head and hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. “But youwereright about one thing.”

“What’s—What do you mean?”

I leaned down and stared at her head on. Her eyes widened. She turned a deep dark pink.

“To pity the person who tries to get in my way.”

I brushed past her as I escaped through the outside door.

After my shower and water inhalation, the pain set in. Fatigue weighted my quads and calves. My dorm room situation had been by special arrangement. There were two athlete-only dorms, and football got the state-of-the-art facility arranged more like apartments than dorms. Baseball, soccer and hockey were assigned to the second dorm with a host of women athletes.

But the way I understood things, if you came in with an endorsement deal—or decent NIL money—you were allotted to the “overflow” queue, with an opportunity for assignment to one of the rooms in the sleek “football-only” dorm.

I’d have gladly taken a room in either dorm as long as I didn’t get stuck with some damned roommate I couldn’t stand. Like Meyers. Ugh, or that never-ending chatterbox, Jimenez.

But when Coach pulled off an entire series of hail-mary’s to get me into a Strikers uniform, he didn’t stop halfway. He pulled together enough money to cover my tuition, room, board and books. Athletes received a special meal plan and extra study sessions to meet the needs of our demanding programs.

I didn’t feel up to being around anyone right then. But I had to eat or I wouldn’t make it through strength training in the morning.

My phone lit up.

Dad: Hey kid, how's camp going?

I sighed. If I answered, it would end up the same place it always did: calling and listening to him cry over how much he missed mom. And me. I was too far away, of course. Even though I’d already promised to drive home this weekend.

I miss her, too. Why do I have to be the one leaned on? Aren't you supposed to be the one . . . understanding my pain? I lost my mom.The woman who kissed scrapes and boo-boos on my small legs and patched me up with cartoon band-aids. The one who sat with me in the emergency room the time I sprained my wrist falling off my bike, lecturing me to be more careful—while tears slid down her face.

She thought I should kiss girls instead of chase baseballs.That's mom.Wasmy mom.

This place. It was strange, sterile. I still had boxes in my closet. I'd placed my laundry in my hamper. Hung up my towel. Rinsed my few dishes in the sink.