Page 27 of Altius
Have I ever mentioned your handwriting is remarkably legible for a doctor?
Remind me to tell you about spending two weeks at a desert military base with Owen sometime. Absolute misery.
An excellent paragraph to underline—I wrote it.
This note is redeemable for one takeout dinner date of your choice.
Can I leave a note on every page without you noticing what I’m doing?
Probably. You just glared at your tablet and shoved your glasses up your nose. Someone has displeased Dr. Van Daal. Tsk tsk.
Think my truck is jealous of your loft. It won’t feel better until we’ve adequately fooled around in the cab, with you in my lap, only wearing one of my sweaters…
Where do you want to go on our first proper date? I can get us a table somewhere fancy with harbor views.
Exchange this note for a thorough fingering—never mind, you just replied to your last email. No time like the present.
I arranged each sticky note in a precise grid on a dark blue linen throw pillow, reading them repeatedly until my vision blurred with sleep, and I drifted off with a smile.
Seven
Morgan
“This place is nuts.” My younger brother, Rory, peered inside the player’s meeting room, the equivalent of a high-tech lecture hall. He was carrying a backpack with his essentials for a long weekend at home. “Can I look around?”
“Sorry, bud, not today.”
Another defensive player got hurt during practice, a shoulder sprain this time, and I needed to finish updating their medical chart and talk with Dr. McEwen before Kelsey arrived to pick us up.
“Don’t apologize. I know you’re busy.”
He slowed down at the entrance to the player’s lounge, rubbernecking to take in the array of glass-fronted fridges, ping-pong and air hockey tables, and arcade games.
“Okay, now I’m jealous. Is it true that—oh, there’s Alijah! Can I wait and say hi?”
Leaning closer to the doorframe, I spotted Alijah in the far corner of the lounge, wearing a blue V-neck sweater over a button-down instead of his customary polo shirt, recording a group of players. Landon Choi, the team’s star kicker, stood in the center, holding a ridiculous-looking stuffed turkey.
“What are you most thankful for this year?” Alijah asked with a smile. Their answers were what you’d expect—teamwork,great coaches, outstanding support staff, friends, and family. “Awesome. Thanks, guys.”
While the players wished each other a happy Thanksgiving and gathered their things, Landon stepped closer to Alijah. He whispered something as he handed over the stuffed turkey and nodded in our direction.
Alijah quickly turned, eyes skimming over Rory to meet my gaze. His smile grew until it lit up the room.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Alijah almost sounded professional as he hurried over. Almost.
Landon was hot on his heels.
“Hey, Rory,” Alijah said, momentarily diverting his winning smile to my brother. “How’s it going?”
“Amazing! Finally got Morgan to let me in here, and it’s even more insane in person. And your job is so cool.” Rory turned to Landon and, apropos of nothing, announced, “I have your jersey.”
Alijah stifled a delighted laugh with the back of his hand.
After giving Alijah a pointed look—we really needed to work on his game face—I made quick introductions. “Landon, this is my younger brother, Rory. He’s a freshman majoring in mechanical engineering.”
“Really? That’s my major, too.” Landon held out a hand, which Rory shook with enthusiasm.
“Oh, I know,” Rory said, leaning closer, green eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard all sorts of rumors about the omega lounge. Is it as amazing as they say?”
