Page 25 of Change Your Play

His eyes trailed down my face, and a beat passed between us. “I apologize again. And I’ll be back for my time, ma’am.”

Thatvoice.

With his final remark, he left the room, and I shifted in my seat, trying to relax the tension in my body.

The interviews crawled while I sipped from the coffee, after scribbling the name out.

It was so hard to washFuture Wifeaway from my thoughts. I knew it didn't mean anything, and I knew Miles would forget about me as soon as he found his place at KYU…but those thoughts didn't make itany easier to write over.

And then it was his turn.

In our meeting room, Miles sat, surrounded by all of us, and the Marrs's team captain, video chatting from Houston. Our head coach took the initiative to begin.

“Ryan Cross was my first selection for team captain,” Coach Lawson explained. “He’s reliable, he’s dependable, he puts everything he has into this team, and he treats it with the seriousness that it—” He frowned and stared at the screen. “Cross, your screen’s upside down.”

“One second, coach.”

Oh my god.

I held back a sigh. “Ryan, you flipped it horizontally.”

“What?”

My coach glanced at me and I shook my head, motioning him to continue. If we were on campus, I would’ve calibrated the meeting for him, but by himself, we’d just have to make due with Ryan’s nonexistent technology skills.

Coach Lawson shook his head and shifted back in his seat. “Cross is destined for the NFL. I know it, the last coach sure knew it. And while he isn’t a part of our scouting team, I’ve given him the final say on the players we talk to.” He scratched his beard with the familiar words. The same speech had been given to every football player before Miles. It’d been received the same way. Eye rolls, covered scoffs, and pressed lips.

Except Miles listened with rapt attention, concentrating on the conversation.

I watched him, waiting for the shoe to drop, but as Coach Lawson continued, about how the last coach had decimated their spirits and how they were going to win the Birchwood Bowlagain, the same things I’d heard over and over again. Miles didn’t even throw a grin my way. He stayed respectful.

Respectful for me.

The realization startled me.

Miles wouldn’t have given a shit otherwise but he didn’t want me to get in trouble. He didn’t want anyone to have a sneaking suspicion that we were tangled together. I glanced down at the coffee cup, blacked out with a sharpie. If I squinted hard enough, I could read out a few letters fromFuture Wife.

“I have a couple of questions of my own,” Ryan said. “Locke, what are your goals?”

A hard one off the bat.

11

Cleo

Something Permanent, Something Worthwhile

I glanced over my coffee and Miles met my eyes. A beat passed between us. I crossed my fingers behind my clipboard.

Miles shifted back in his chair. “I can do one thing that I can be the best at. I can play football. That’s it. That’s what I know I can do. Everything else is just an addition. At the heart of it, I’m a damn good football player. And I consider…almost all of my goals tied up with that.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Ryan confirmed.

He asked another couple of questions, all of which Miles answered perfectly. All the other coaches and people on Coach Lawson’s team nodded their heads and jotted on clipboards - exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

But I wanted to ask him questions.

What’s the goal that made you pause?

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