Page 112 of The Fake Out Flex

"I bet she is."

Culver and Hannah are childhood friends. Their families have known each other going back four generations. She must be sick with worry.

"I told her I'd give her an update as soon as I could."

"Let's go, then."

Twenty-five minutes later, we're in Culver's hospital room, waiting for the results of the tests. He's resting and no longer in pain, so that's good.

Evie has ordered food and updated Hannah. Her phone dings. "Food's here," she tells us. "I'll go get it."

"Want me to come with you?" I ask.

"No, stay." She smiles. "Give you two a chance to talk about how great I am."

"She's definitely a keeper," Culver says once Evie is out of the room.

"Because she's broken down the food pyramid into three main food groups—burgers, fries, and pastries?"

Culver smiles. "Nah, man. Because she's terrific and because of the way you look at her. Reminds me of how my old man looks at Ma. Like she hung the moon in the sky. Except, you have a much goofier face."

"Hey, leave my goofy face alone."

Evie reappears with the food, and the three of us eat as she gives us her very detailed take on what went wrong in the game and what we need to improve on.

Maybe I've grown immune to it, but her delivery has improved so much since she was a feisty twelve-year old barking critiques at me whenever I was over at her house, hanging out with Levi. Even back then, she knew the ins and outs of the game like a pro. Guess that's her dad's influence rubbing off on her.

"You weren't lying, man," Culver says with a grin once she's done. "She's tough."

I finish chewing my burger. "This is nothing. You should have heard what she was like when she was younger. It's taken me years of therapy to recover."

Evie throws a fry at me. "Stop it. You're exaggerating…You are exaggerating, right?"

I laugh. "I am."

Kinda.

"I get it from my dad. You should hear half the stuff that comes out of his mouth."

"I bet," Culver says. "The man is a legend. He's earned the right to say what he wants to say."

"And as the daughter of a legend, so have I."

"You ever consider playing?" Culver asks, wiping his fingers clean on a napkin.

Evie shakes her head. "No. Those who can, play. Those who can't, critique. I'm firmly in the second camp."

"True. But it's a shame to let your insight go to waste. I bet what you told us tonight will be what coach tells us tomorrow. Right, Fraser?"

"Totally. And for what it's worth, I think she'd make a great coach or assistant or whatever role she chooses to pursue."

"Thanks, guys. But I'm sticking with reporting. For now."

She drops her head after she says that.

Culver gives me a small nod, and I take the cue. "We should let you rest up, buddy."

"Thanks for checking on me. Appreciate it."

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