Page 27 of The Game She Hates

“My days of questioning my biological parents are behind me. My experiences helped me to see my need for Jesus. I had no sense of identity and felt like I didn’t belong to anyone. Discovering that God ed me through Jesus Christ healed my wounded heart. Now, what I’ve been through enables me to empathize deeply with the children I counsel. I know how I can pray for them even when they aren’t communicating well with me. I can easily approach them without judgment for their negative emotions and feelings because I’ve been there. My personal journey allows me to connect with them on a level that I wouldn’t have achieved otherwise.”

“I knew you were special,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“What’s special is Jesus in me. Without him, I’m broken. We all are.”

He purses his lips. “I’ve never thought about religion that way.”

“It’s not religion I’m talking about. What Jesus died for on the cross wasn’t for me to adhere to a religious system. It was for me to have a personal relationship with God through Christ. That was the purpose of his ultimate sacrifice.”

He shrugs and says, “I don’t even know what that means.”

“I didn’t either. But if you’re curious about what it means and how it could change your life, come to church next Sunday. We aren’t a large congregation; it’s mostly people you saw here today along with a few elderly people. I’ll even help you find a low-key seat and I’ll give you a signal at the end of the meeting so you can slip out before everyone else.”

“You’d do that for me?” Zane asks, running his hands through his wavy hair.

It’s a good question. The last time I invited a guy to church, my feelings were involved and things went sour.

If Zane also comes and finds his future wife in my church, I may never recover from this one.

“On second thought, we actually have an online service. I can send you the details.”

“All right, sure. Thanks,” he replies, with a mix of confusion and disappointment.

I take a deep breath. That was as close as I’ll come to repeating my Duke mistake.

Gesturing for Zane to head back inside, I hand him his jacket.

People have definitely noticed our absence. Not that they’d have noticed me missing, but everyone knows Zane is here, so they’re likely on the lookout for him and whoever he’s with.

20

Zane Ortiz

It’s been a whirlwind of a week—practice sessions, a tough game, and a string of brand deals lined up by my agent have kept me busier than ever. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t carve out a moment to see Pearl. Twice I attempted to coax her into joining me for dinner at my place, only to be met with polite refusals. She insisted that such invitations were beyond the bounds of friendship.

Our phone conversations have been a lifeline for me each evening. It became a ritual—I’d dial her number first, my heart pounding with anticipation until she picked up. Each time she answered, it made me second-guess her supposed resolve to keep our relationship strictly platonic.

The fact that each call lasted over two hours proved she was comfortable with me, and there also wasn’t anything I felt I couldn’t tell her. We dug into our pasts, and despite our hard upbringing, Pearl managed to unearth childhood moments that had us both in stitches. Leave it to her to resurrect some fond memories from my early years. I never knew I had those; my mind had been fixated on the darkest chapters for as long as I can remember. Our conversations lightly grazed past relationships a few times; she seemed hesitant to share those, hinting at wounds still fresh. It was clear someone, who wasn’t even Duke, hadn’t treated her as the gem she truly was, and all I wanted was to reassure her that she was worth more than the world’s treasures.

The urge to pour my heart out is strong each time, but the thought of risking the easy rhythm we have—the very friendship that gives me the excuse to dial her number every night—keeps me silent. She isn’t ready to hear the depth of my feelings just yet.

Pearl has a knack for listening to me and always knows just the right words to say, even if those words often came straight from her Bible. Her gentle reminders of God’s unconditional love and His desire for my well-being stayed with me long after we hung up. I never imagined I’d start pondering faith and what it would truly mean if God did have a plan for me, and genuinely wanted what was best for me. Her words sparked a curiosity about the fulfillment found in wholeheartedly following Jesus.

As I dress in what I hope passes for suitable church attire—black jeans and a button-down—I can’t help but wonder why she withdrew her invitation for me to attend in person and insisted I watch the sermon online.

How could she not want to see me as much as I wanted to see her?

I can’t wait for Randy’s café to stop buzzing with gossip about my unexpected appearance. It’s crazy to hear that people and the paparazzi are still flocking there in hopes of seeing me.

The downsides of living in a small town!

Hopefully, by next week, they’ll have moved on, and I can swing by to see if I can return to my routine of catching glimpses of Pearl every day.

I glance at my watch, feeling my heart hammer. If I don’t get going, I might be late. But if I’m being honest, it’s not the prospect of attending church that has my heart racing—it’s the chance to see Pearl again. She has no idea I’ll be joining her today, but I plan to give her a call on my way there. I can’t risk her missing out on the service just because I’ll be coming.

“Hey, good morning,” I greet through the car’s speaker.

“Hi, any issues logging into the service?” she asks.

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