Page 11 of Fragile

“Don’t get lazy, though. We need you ready for San Jose next week. Don’t let me down, Miles.”

He strides away without another word, and I feel as though my feet are rooted in place. I got what I wanted; my dad didn’t make me feel like shit this time. He actually complimented me. It’s such a rare occurrence that I’m not even sure how to process it. Growing up, his approval always felt just out of reach, and I spent so many years longing for it. Now that I have it, there’s still an unmistakable weight lingering in my gut, like I’m waiting forthe other shoe to drop. For him to turn around and berate me for something I didn’t do.

I wait until he rounds a corner out of sight before I let out a big exhale, tension easing from my body, but at the same time, there’s still the same vulnerability lingering beneath my skin. Would he be proud of me if he knew what was coursing through my body for the entire game tonight?

Another hand slaps on my shoulder, awakening me from my daze as I turn to meet Seb’s face. “Lakeside. Burgers are calling my name, let’s go.”

I hesitate, still a little stunned. “Yeah, I’m in.”

We walk together, some of the other guys joining us, as well as a few girls. Seb links his fingers with Indie’s. “Did your dad have much to say about that catch tonight?” Seb asks as the fresh evening air hits us.

“He said it was some of my best.”

He scoffs. “That was the best catch of your career. No one but you would’ve caught that curve.”

I laugh lightly. “He actually sounded…” I pause, still reeling. “Proud of me.”

Seb glances at me, no doubt to read my expression, which feels like it’s all over the place like my emotions. Isn’t his acceptance what I wanted? Why does it feel so foreign? Am I conditioned only to hear him pick at my faults all the time? Or is it guilt over what I’ve done again to gain his approval? Somewhere deep down I know I’ve been reckless, but as I walk with my friends, I realize I can be free tonight, without his shitty comments. And that feels…good.

No, it feels unbelievable.

“Miles, man, it’s about time he gave you some praise. That catch was epic.”

I hum in agreement as he steps ahead with Indie. He’s right. Itisabout time. I roll my shoulders, ignoring the doubt in my mind, and focus on that good feeling.

“Cooper, check this out!” Jay calls out, bounding up beside me, thrusting his camera into my face. The LED screen blurs because we’re moving, so I hold the camera with him, and we both stop to study the picture.

It takes me a couple of seconds to realize what I’m looking at. It’s me. The moment my hands connected with the ball on the field. The moment I felt like a freaking superhero because I caught it like I was always meant to. The stadium around me is dark, save for the glow of the lights above my head shining like a spotlight on me, drowning out everything else. Mud stains my pants and there’s blood smeared on my elbow as my fingers lace over the ball, my body twisted slightly and suspended at least a foot in the air. Fuck, that is a great picture. I nudge Jay’s shoulder with mine. “You killed that shot.”

Grinning, he swipes past a few others of me coming out of the catch, which are equally as impressive. “Nothing on me. That beauty was all you. You made my job easy tonight.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Actually, I was going to ask if I can use this for my portfolio for the internship this coming summer?”

“Yeah, go for it. As long as I can get a copy,” I tease. “What’s the internship for?”

We resume walking to catch up with the others again. “It’s a social media assistant for the state football team here in Oregon.”

“The Beavers?”

He nods. “I know it’s early to figure things out, but I’m staying local this summer, and figured I’d get a head start on applying for some jobs.”

“That’s awesome. Anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

Hudson rushes into the back of us, almost knocking us over. “What’s awesome? What did I miss?”

Jay brings up the camera again to show him the money shot of me. “Jay! That is sick. Did you get any of me?”

I laugh, because of course he’d ask that. “Feeling jealous, princess?”

“Of your ugly mug? Nah.”

I push him playfully, just as Quinn catches up to us with a smirk. “Do I need to separate you two again?”

“Hey, baby girl. How you doing?” Hudson beams, slinging his arm around her shoulders. She looks up at him with an easy smile. I bristle at the relaxed way he’s touching her and how she settles against his side.

“I’m exhausted from all that cheering. Every muscle hurts and my throat is sore,” she rasps, her delicate fingers reaching up to touch her neck.

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