Page 56 of How We Fooled

I think back to what I knew about the trip he was last on and realize I never got the actual day he’d be home. I knew that was his last baseball trip, but he’d been so involved with baseball that I forgot that he played football altogether.

Everything in my body is telling me to turn around, but my feet continue to move like my heart is willing them forward and my brain has no say in the matter.

Once I’m in the stands, looking over the field, I see Eli plain as day as the leader in the huddle, then stepping back into the quarterback position.

How did I not know he was the quarterback?

I shake my head in thought as I wonder what else I didn’t know about him.

We didn’t talk much about sports, which surprises me now as I look back. It seems to be this huge aspect of his life that I didn’t know much about. I only knew he traveled for baseball and was gone—a lot!

He throws the ball for a play that’s caught in the end zone, then runs to the sideline, where his coach is calling him over. As he takes his helmet off, his eyes lock on mine, and I freeze, not able to breathe for a moment.

I don’t know if I should turn around to leave or wave to say hello, but in this moment, my brain is completely nonexistent, and I’m left standing here like an idiot, staring at the man I love while my heart breaks all over again.

“Jones,” I hear the coach yell, breaking the spell we had on each other.

He turns to his coach, and I finally figure out how to breathe and move once again.

How? How am I going to make it through the day when I can’t even function with him this far away?

I turn to leave with the only thoughts running through my head that I need to leave Leighton River, not sure if I’ll ever come back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Eli

I haven’t had time to process anything about Liza and how the school year would actually be. I left for our last trip of the year, which was the worst playing I’ve ever done, and came home this morning, only to start football practice today.

The rest of the team has been practicing already but with the second-string quarterback since I was gone. My coaches let me play for the national team during the summer, but are always eager to get me on the field again, so I have no days off when it comes to starting the next sport.

I’m beat, exhausted, but mostly heartbroken. My focus is shit, and now that she’s here, in the stands, watching me, I’m an absolute wreck.

“Jones,” my coach yells out. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, Coach,” I state, though I have no idea what he just said.

Everything in my life stood still as we stared at each other for those few seconds. I look back to see if she’s still there. It’s a stab to my heart for the millionth time this week when I notice she’s gone.

I try my hardest to pay attention to what he’s saying just so we can end this conversation sooner and I can get back on the field.

He finally stops talking, and I put my helmet on, running back out to the huddle, trying to regurgitate what he just told me.

We break, and I walk to the center, readying myself for his snap.

“Hike,” I yell and drop back, looking for Marcus or Dalton to see if they’re open.

I don’t even notice one of our defense guys racing toward me until I’m lying on my side, grunting from the pain of the fall.

“You’d better step it up, Jones. Baseball’s made you soft,” the guy says as he races backward, celebrating his sack.

Ben holds his hand out to me. “You good?”

I grasp it, using his leverage to stand up. “Yeah. Just rusty, is all.”

He slaps my shoulder pads. “Let’s get you back in the game! It’s been shitty, practicing without you. It’s time to get this team dialed in now.”

I nod and head back to the line of scrimmage, yelling, “Let’s run it again.”

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