Page 40 of Blindside Me
My jaw aches from clenching it for the past two hours. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, drilling into my skull like ice picks. Despite the hallway being nearly silent, everything feels too loud, too bright, too much.
It doesn’t help that there’s been radio silence from the scout.
Bastard.
At least he didn’t torch me in a write-up like what he did to my brother.
Small victories, I guess.
And just like that, Sunday night is back in my head. Jade across from me in her dorm, her knee brushing mine. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was lost in thought. How she laughed at something I said. A real laugh, not a fake one. Her hand on mine when we reached for the same pen.
I squeeze my eyes shut.Block it out. Focus, idiot.She’s off limits. A distraction. The kind I don’t do.
“Yo, Klaas. You planning to murder that bag, or what?”
I look down. My knuckles are white, gripping the handles so hard they’re about to rip. Easton stands in front of me, gym bag slung over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in that knowing way of his.
“What do you want?” I mumble, stepping around him.
“Just checking if you’re still with us.” He steps in line beside me. “Did Jade reject your thesis or your heart, bro?”
My head snaps to his. “What?”
“You’ve been broody since Sunday.” He smirks. “Which is impressive because broody’s your baseline.”
“I’m fine.” I keep walking. “Just tired.”
“Uh-huh.” Easton doesn’t miss a step, keeping pace. “So it’s a coincidence you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your protein shake ever since you spent all Sunday working with her?”
“We’re just working on a project.”
“Right.” Easton nods slowly. “That explains why you nearly took Country’s head off when he asked about your study date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Sure, Klaas.” He side-eyes me. “And I’m not the best-looking guy on the team.”
I let out a huff. “Can we drop it?”
“Fine.” He raises his hands in surrender. “Just saying, you might want to figure out what’s got you so worked up before Coach benches you for real.”
I clench my bag tighter and push open the door, not bothering to check if Easton follows. He does, of course. Three years as teammates, he’s immune to my moods.
The night air is warm as we step outside. The parking lot is mostly empty, just a few cars scattered under the yellow glowof security lights. Campus is dead at this hour. For once, I’m grateful.
“You missed passes tonight that you could make blindfolded,” Easton says, breaking the silence. “Half the team noticed.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “I had an off night.”
“You’ve had a few of those lately.” His voice loses its teasing edge. “You used to play like you had something to prove. Now it’s like you’re scared to prove it.”
I don’t answer. What am I supposed to say? That he’s right? That something’s off inside me, and I don’t know how to fix it.
“Jade was in the stands tonight,” Easton says, too casual.
My steps falter. “What?”
“Yeah, showed up about halfway through practice. Sat in the corner with her notebook.” He shrugs. “Thought you might’ve noticed.”
