Page 29 of A Play For The Heart
“Thank you,” she wraps her hands around my waist, dragging me into an intoxicating hug. The scent of oranges and flowers blooms around me. My arms instinctively wrap around her, and I lean my head onto hers, her hair soft against my cheek. “You coming here means a lot to me.”
“Anything for you and my number one biggest fan.”
She laughs into my chest then pulls away from the hug. The moment she leaves my arms, I miss her. I want to grab her and hug her again, but I'm not greedy, so I shove my hands into my pockets. “Micah is going to lose his shit.”
We enter the gym and it’s a madhouse. Children are running around everywhere. On one side of the room, college-aged kids are attempting to corral a group to start a game of basketball. On the other side, Deon and Jack are standing next to a small, brown-haired woman who seems to be giving them directions, waving her hands around in the air and gesturing at things. Sawyer leads me towards Jack, Deon, and the woman. We miss most of what the woman said to the two of them, but I catch the end of what Jack is saying.
“We're not college students. We’re here to volunteer, but we were hoping it would be in the gym and not preparing the afternoon snacks.” He looks exasperated with the conversation as if they’ve been arguing in circles. Jack spots Sawyer and the relief on his face is obvious.
“Oh, there you are, thank God!” He gestures for Sawyer to walk faster towards him. “I was just trying to tell her that we should volunteer in the gym, but she's insisting that we are on snack duty.” He gestures at the small woman. “I tried to explain that we were football players, and it would make more sense for us to be in the gym, but she didn’t believe me. She said if we were football players then she was the Queen of England.”
I burst out in laughter, receiving glares from both Jack and Deon. With the size of the two of them and the Seattle Mavericks gear they're both wearing, it's entirely plausible that they play football, but the fact that the small woman managed to rile Jack up is beyond funny. I ignore both of them and look over to Sawyer who is biting back a smile when she responds to the woman.
“Uh, Nathalie?” She plasters on a soft smile. “They are football players. Professional ones. Nathalie, meet Henry Parker, Jack Walters, and Deon Adams. They all play for the Seattle Mavericks.” Sawyer gestures at the three of us and a triumphant look overtakes Jack’s face. Nathalie’s face goes pale for a split second, but she recovers well.
“Oh, well, in that case, I am not the Queen of England. It's nice to meet you all.” She reaches her hand out and shakes each of ours a tad too enthusiastically. “But I don’t see what that has to do with the fact that we are short-staffed in the kitchen. Someone needs to cut the carrots.”
My eyes dart to Sawyer, the look on my face screamingfix this, I cannot cut carrots. If I get exiled to kitchen duty while she’s out here, then my plan is shot and I will never hear the end of it if Jack and Deon give up their afternoon to cut vegetables.
“Why don’t we move some of the volunteers from the second gym and have them do snacks? The guys only have a few hours and I’m sure the kids would love to hang out with professional athletes. It’s also a great PR opportunity. I’m sure they would agree to photos being posted on social media.”
All three of us nod our heads up and down, emphatically. Anything to avoid handing out grapes. Nathalie perks up at the mention of PR and social media and I can watch as she softens. Sawyer just smooth-talked our way out of snack duty and Jack and Deon look grateful and relieved.
“Yeah, that should work,” Nathalie glances down at a clipboard for a moment, her brow furrowing as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s flag football today. The kids pick teams and then play. You can coach or play with them. But a warning, they aren’t big fans of listening.”
Jack chuckles and slaps Deon’s chest. “Neither is Deon. They’ll get along great.” I snort, watching a scowl form on Deon’s face as the grin on Jack’s face grows larger.
Just as Nathalie finishes explaining, a gaggle of children runs through the gymnasium doors. At the sight of us, about a third of the kids stop and stare, while the rest ignore our presence and run right past us. Based on the different reactions, it’s obvious which kids are fans of the Mavericks. One of the children breaks off from the small group and races toward Sawyer, who is standing beside me chuckling. He screeches to a halt in front of her and I see the number eleven shaved on the side of his head. This must be Micah.
“Hi, Miss Sawyer,” Micah says quietly. His eyes dart back and forth between Sawyer and me. He gestures at her to lean down to his level and then whispers in her ear. Quite loudly. “Is that Henry Parker? Why is Henry Parker here?”
Sawyer huffs a laugh and smiles kindly at Micah. He watches the two of us with curious eyes, his attention focused on the logo on my chest. Rising, Sawyer turns to me. “Micah, I want you to meet my best friend, Henry Parker. Henry, this is Micah.”
I reach my hand out to shake his, but Micah is frozen like a statue. After a long twenty seconds, Micah snaps out of it and tentatively shakes my hand, my hand dwarfing his in the most adorable handshake I’ve ever been a part of.
“You play for the Mavericks?” Micah asks me, clearly not believing what he’s seeing.
I chuckle and respond, “Yeah, I play for the Mavericks. And so do they.” I gesture at Jack and Deon, standing off on the side of the gym, talking to a group of young children.
Micah seems to digest that information, then turns back to Sawyer, looking both shocked and annoyed. “Miss Sawyer, your best friend is Henry Parker?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I didn’t realize that was something that I needed to tell you.” She laughs, clearly amused by his questioning. “Plus, I just told you.”
Micah guffaws at Sawyer's response like he can't believe that was her excuse. His hands fly to his hips. He resembles a parent getting ready to discipline their child. “That seems like important stuff to share, Miss Sawyer. If my best friend was the best wide receiver in the NFL, I would tell my friends.”
I feel my cheeks heat at his compliment and the fact that he thinks Sawyer should be telling the world about our friendship. I agree. I should buy Sawyer a shirt that says ‘I'm Henry Parker’s best friend’ on the front and ‘Back off, I’m taken’ on the back. Seems like a great idea to me, although I’m not sure Sawyer would go for it.
“You’re right, Micah. I should have told you, as my friend. I'm sorry. But Henry came to play some football with you today so hopefully that makes for a good apology.”
Micah's head whips to me. “You’re going to play with us?”
“That was the plan.”
Micah snatches my hand and begins to pull me toward the other kids surrounding Jack and Deon. “Can you teach me some routes and how to push off the defense?”
