Page 86 of Near Miss

It’s probably because when I was a receiver, I wasn’t the star, but if I was on the field, I was faster than everyone and my hands were good enough, so I was having fun.

And when I started kicking, it always went far enough, and it went through.

No questions about it. Nothing special required.

Just a multimillion-dollars-a-year leg.

Until it didn’t.

I don’t think I’ve grown superstitious since I started smashing yardage and scoring points again.

Beckett Davis is back—you can just ask anyone.

But I do like spending post-game days with Greer, and I’m particularly keen on spending this one with her.

We have one more game before we play Baltimore, and even though I think it probably carves another piece out of me eachtime we’re together and I can’t really have her in all the ways I want, it’s making my kicking better.

Maybe I am growing superstitious, because I’m setting expectations when I walk through my front door: I expect to spend the day fantasizing about all the things I want to do to her when she’s finally off shift, and I expect to spend the day pretending she’s actually mine.

I don’t expect to see my brother and sister camped out in my living room.

Nathaniel glances away from the TV, mug of coffee still steaming in his hands, and Sarah drops the knitting needles she was whipping around at rapid speed.

“Oh.” I palm my jaw. It’s a bit embarrassing to be around them, actually. After Mom’s big show the other week where she proved she knew everything about them, and nothing about me. “What are you two doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too.” One eyebrow kicks up in amusement, and Nathaniel takes a sip of his coffee before leaning forward and setting it down on the table. Right above the same corner I cracked my head on when I had Greer on the floor the other week. He gives a shake of his head. “It’s your day off. We thought it might be nice for the three of us to do something. Go grab brunch or something?”

I can hear her laugh when it happened—raspy, echoing across the apartment and all the way up to those vaulted ceilings that usually only hear me swear when I kick the occasional football outside the practice net.

It was probably lonely up there without her laugh.

This whole apartment was probably lonely without her smiles littered everywhere, collecting dust because I’ll never move them.

I think I was probably a lot lonelier than I thought before I met her.

I blink. Nathaniel’s still talking. I close my eyes and shake my head. “Sorry, what?”

“You’re distracted.” Sarah’s eyes go wide, sparkling, and she points a knitting needle towards me. “Thinking about a certain someone, perhaps?”

All I think about and everything I can’t have.

That doesn’t exactly seem like something my brother and sister will care about, so I drop my bag and hold my hands up when I walk backwards towards the fridge. “Thinking about how I could have improved the kick in the second. Went a little to the right.”

A scoff sounds in Nathaniel’s throat, and he twists against the back of the couch so he can face me. “I doubt it. You played great last night. We all watched at that resident mixer I had to go to.”

“Oh yeah?” I pull open the fridge, clearing my throat when I grab a box of water. Greer says she prefers her water in cardboard, so those overpriced boxes found their way to these shelves. It was probably a bit desperate—think I ran out the morning after she mentioned it. “Who’s we?”

I think I look indifferent when I turn back to face them, twisting the cap off the water and tossing it on the counter. I shrug one shoulder.

Indifferent. Cool.

Not hopelessly, desperately, stupidly in love.

I know Greer watched the game—she texted me afterwards with strict instructions to rest, ice, and elevate my left side after I landed on it during the tackle.

They laugh at the same time—looking at each other like they’re in on some big secret, our shared green eyes wide and incredulous.

Those laughs echo, too. And for a minute, I imagine a different life for myself—one where I have Greer, but I have this versionof my brother and my sister, and maybe my parents love me properly and this whole place is full—but I blink.

---