Page 11 of Whirlwind
Suddenly, I feel like an epic creep staring at them as I stretch last night’s tension out of my body. Thank fuck she didn’t see me.
After finishing my yoga, I jerk off, shower, and eat some breakfast. Another routine. One part I’d like to switch up is my meals. I’ve known players that hire a personal chef; I’m considering doing the same. You get accustomed to the monotony of it all in favor of your career, but when you see top performers doing just fine while also enjoying variation, it gets harder to avoid.
There’s no reason I need to be eating the same shit all the time. And I have more money than I know how to spend, with so many of my expenses covered by the team or the league. Plus, I have a damn good agent who’s gotten me a couple of very lucrative endorsements.
One of which, I lost due to my tabloid scandal. I’d already made a large amount of money off it, so it sucked, but it could have been worse. Not holding up my end of any bargain makes me feel like an incredible asshole. I wish it had turned out differently. But I don’t really make apologies for the things I’ve done, either.
Management has asked me to run into the offices this morning; I guess they forgot to have me sign some paper or another. With the stack of documents we got through, I’m not surprised something was missed. It’s not like I don’t have time, either, with no social life to speak of in this city.
It’s game day, though, which means, I’ll get some shit done early, then I’ll come back to video games and a nap before running to the arena.
I get to the right building, and as I’m approaching the elevator, it starts to close.
“Hold it, please,” I say, and see a hand reach out to stop the doors. When I see who it is, I smile. “Are you following me?”
“Considering I was here first, I think I should be asking you that. Besides, I already think you’re a Peeping Tom, might as well add stalker to the list,” Kit says.
“It’s not my fault your yard is under my window,” I say. Guess she saw me this morning, after all. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.”
“For the Blades?”
“Yep.”
“Doing what?”
“Are you always this nosey?”
“No, but I am always curious. It also seems fate keeps sticking you in front of me. I’d like to know why.”
“Fate?” She crinkles her nose again, the same way she did yesterday. “You probably have a nightstand lined with crystals. Are you into horoscopes and fortune telling, too? You know a study in 2017 came to the basic conclusion that zodiac sign stereotypes are bullshit?”
“No.” I laugh. “Would you please indulge your nosey, stalker neighbor by telling him what your profession is?”
“Statistician. Or data analyst, here, I guess. It’s a new position with the team; we’re trying some things out.”
“Are you working on our stats?”
“Yes. Sort of. I’m diving deep into how well certain plays work. How well do they work against specific teams and players. Or with certain members of our team. That sort of thing. From purely a numbers standpoint.”
“Building a database that can be fed to coaches in real time,” I muse.
She shrugs. “The groundwork is already there; the Edge system helps with a lot of that. This is just more personalized. More customizable for the team.”
“That makes sense,” I say as we step off the elevator. “Players and coaches often run on emotion or gut feeling. It’s nice to have real data to go along with that.”
“That’s the idea, anyway,” she says, giving me a little salute. “Have a good day, Mr. Murphy.”
“Wait. What’s your last name?”
“Ashcroft.”
“Got it, thanks for the escort, Ms. Ashcroft.”
After I find the right office and sign the right paperwork, I find a grocery store in my new neighborhood and stock up on a few things. There’s a small pet store next door, so I make a pit stop in there, as well. When I get home, I run across the street, drop the new purchase on Kit’s doorstep, then make myself lunch and settle in front of the television.
My Xbox powers up, but before I start playing a game, I search for Kit’s ridiculous gamertag. It pops up and I look at the list of games she’s played. It’s extensive and the achievements attached to them show she doesn’t play any of them casually. We have several titles in common, some I’m honestly surprised by. For some reason, I figured she’d play cozy games, likeStardew Valleyor whatever. I sure as hell didn’t expect to see a collection of the most hardcore horror and shooting games on her list.
