Page 57 of How We Fooled

Getting knocked over—physically by my teammate and mentally by Liza—put things in perspective that I need to get my game right and stay focused. I can’t let a girl get in the way of my playing—that’s for sure.

We’re in the locker room, getting changed out of our pads, when Ben comes up to me. “What was going on out there today? That wasn’t like you.”

I try to blow him off. “It’s just been a long summer. I’ll be back in full swing by the end of the week.”

“Yeah, we’ve hardly seen you at all,” Dalton chimes in. “How was the season?”

“Great, until it wasn’t,” I respond, kicking my shoes off.

They both look at each other, then at me.

“Care to elaborate?” Ben asks.

I stare at him for a brief second, then take my pads off. If they know me at all, they know I’m not one to talk, especially about my feelings and especially with them.

Dalton, who tends to understand me a little more than Ben, nods his head in my direction. “Flush it. On to the next. It’s officially football season, baby!”

He hoots and hollers, making me shake my head at his antics. Football is his thing. Always has been. This being our senior year should have been a big deal, but now, I’m starting it with what feels like a huge asterisk above my head, not having a clue what to do.

We get dressed and head out of the locker room to where our trucks are parked. Technically, we’re not supposed to park them back here, but we always do. I guess that’s one of the perks of our parents basically owning this town.

“So, what’s going on with the scouts? Any news?” Dalton asks.

I haven’t spoken to anyone about being scouted by the MLB. The guys know people have reached out and that I attended some prospect camps, but I keep that shit quiet, even from Liza. I just don’t want to talk about it and get everyone hyped on the idea and then have nothing happen. Of course, my parents and my coaches know, but that’s it.

I shrug. “We’ll see.”

“Typical Eli, not telling us shit,” Ben yells out as he flings his stuff in the back of his truck. “Glad to see the summer didn’t change you that much.”

I push him into the truck as I walk by, making him laugh, then get in my truck, crank the engine, and pull out from where we’re parked. I miss hanging out with my boys, but right now, I have too much other shit on my mind that I need to figure out.

It’s been five days since I spoke to Liza. Five days of absolute torture that I can’t take anymore.

I pull up my text messages and click her name, seeing my last pleas to her that went unanswered. That’s why I showed up at her house. I didn’t plan on taking her straight to her bedroom, but the second I saw her, there was nothing that could stop me from doing so.

As I leave the parking lot, I send her another text.

I need to see you.

I drive aimlessly around town, waiting for her response. When she doesn’t respond, I text again.

I will show up at your door again if you don’t answer me.

That must have gotten her attention because instantly, my phone rings.

“Liza,” I say breathlessly since my chest is so tight that I wasn’t even sure if I’d get the word out.

“You can’t come here.” Her voice cracks, though I can tell she’s trying to be stern.

I hit the steering wheel, needing the release it gives me in that moment. I know she’s right, but I don’t want to hear her say it.

I pull into a parking lot, put the truck in park, and drop my head to my hand. “I don’t know if I can do this. Seeing you today almost broke me.”

We sit in silence for what feels like forever, neither of us sure what to say.

“Liza …” I finally breathe out.

“Yeah?” she responds cautiously.

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