Page 8 of Brick Wall
I’m standing against the wall with my assistant coaches, Sara and Lori. Most staff are standing in the back, leaving the seats for the students.
The students give Sebastian the biggest roar of applause that I’ve ever heard for a lecturer, but it’s well deserved.
Sebastian is magic up there. He’s nothing like the asshole at the bar I spoke to weeks ago, ranting about my gold-diggingbestie. He’s charming and fun, almost like that carefree guy named Alex I met two months before.
“Your mindset is more important than your physical abilities. Cultivate a positive attitude and mental toughness,” Sebastian urges.
The students are so attentive that at the end of his speech, there are many questions for him. He’s very patient in answering a lot of questions as he calls on each student.
“Why would you even care about girls doing sports?” a female student that I do not recognize asks.
“I have all sisters,” he plainly states, and at that moment, we lock eyes. We hold eye contact briefly, but I can’t read him. After he answers, he says that’s all the questions he can take and steps off stage.
I’m close to the exit and take my leave, happily knowing I won’t see him again.
Chapter Four
Sebastian
Iwalk off the stage, where two personnel are waiting to escort me to a golf cart at the back of the auditorium so I can safely exit.
I’m not too worried about problems here, but I adhere to their protocol anyway and jump on the golf cart to get across campus.
Overall, the speech went well, but there was one thing I wasn’t expecting.
Her.
Apparently, I can spot this woman in a room full of people.
I know it was her—the woman from the bar that I met…twice.
She was leaning against the back wall with the rest of the staff and coaches in a sea of athletic polos. She must be a coach, perhaps? If true, I didn’t know that about her, but I guess I never asked either.
Damn. I’ve been a dick to her.
She catches me so off guard.
I went to the bar that night to look out for Bryce. I never even considered that I’d converse with someone else. It was going to be a quick in and out—one drink max.
But then she made me laugh, and I couldn’t help myself. I needed more.
I didn’t mean to, but I let my guard down around her that night. It just happened. She was so easy and fun to talk to.
It was nice to be me. I didn’t have to worry about someone using me or being with me because I’m a professional athlete. I didn’t have to worry about someone bragging about it on social media or sharing a tantalizing piece about me to media outlets.
It was naïve of me to think that, of course. I should know better than to lower my shield, especially at a bar.
But no story made it to the media.
That little voice in my head reminds me that nothing bad actually happened,yet.
I’m not sure what to make of this whole thing.
I was so thrown off when I realized she knew who I was the whole time. I thought I was just a guy in a bar talking to a beautiful woman.
I wish that was the case.
I probably shouldn’t have been a jerk to her, though. It’s not her fault that she knew who I was. She is from Boston, after all.
