Page 79 of Racing Heat
“Enough,” Coach Watts says sternly. “There’s no shot. Thanks for pointing out that coverage, Jase. Now, on to the next play.”
The film is resumed, and I don’t say another word the whole time. Andie takes her turn giving her thoughts on how we should play this, as does Coach Watts, and finally, Jase rounds it out with some goalie advice.
“Keepers, come on up here. I want to show you something that she’s doing well. We’ve worked on cutting them off during corners like this, but I want you to see another example of it.” Hendrix, Miranda, and Kate make their way to the front.
Jase talks quietly, showing them what he’s talking about. I can hear Hendrix speaking, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.
“I’d like to practice that,” Kate says.
“Me too,” Hendrix agrees readily.
“Great. We’ll work on it at the next practice. Thanks for indulging me, Coach Watts. The floor is yours again, Nate.” Jase moves to sit by Andie.
He’s seated right across from me, his eyes boring into mine. It takes every ounce of strength I have for me to not look at him. I almost make it, but I get weak and look over. He’s watching me so intently. Same stoic expression from earlier. I give up and go back to listening to Coach Watts. If Jase’s not careful, someone is going to notice.
As soon as we’re dismissed, my phone beeps.
Jase:Not cool. You can’t do that.
I roll my eyes, shoving the phone back into my pocket. I could do it, and I did because I was right. I leave the training facility quickly, without really saying goodbye to anyone. My high from earlier is gone. Instead, it feels like he singled me out and was harder on me than he would have been on anyone else. If he was worried we were going to get caught, he went about it the wrong way. That might have drawn just as much attention as if he had winked at me or even brushed up against me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
~JASE~
Cassie has kept a low profile since we watched film. It’s been three days, and we haven’t really spoken. I’ve sent a few texts and all she does is not answer or tell me she’s with the team and can’t get away. I know there have been a few practices that have run longer for her than me, so some of it was to be expected. But I feel like she’s icing me out because I called out her shit plan, which makes me wonder if I was only kidding myself and that this isn’t a good idea.
I try not to let it weigh too heavily on my mind. I don’t want others to notice and suspect something, because even if it was just a wonderful twenty-four hours that we spent together, it should stay between us.
Today is going to be a rough game for her and the rest of the team. She needs something to make her smile, something to lighten the mood. Everyone deserves a little good, but right now, the only one I’m interested in making smile is Cassie. I arrive at the stadium earlier than her. I know her. She and Mac have this pre-game routine that usually ensures she’s one of the first ones to arrive. But today I beat her.
I head into the locker room and see the uniforms hanging up in their lockers. August spared no expense in making themfeel professional. Their laundry is done weekly, and uniforms are hung up before each game. The amount of merchandize he provided us all with is insane, but the locker room presentation with the alternating blue-and-yellow cubes with uniforms pressed and ready is a nice touch.
I stop at hers. She’s number eight. I think back to when I was in high school and someone on the team would cheer for their player who was number eight. “That’s my eight; he’s pretty great,” they would say. I think she’s more than great, but that might not matter anymore. I pull the single light-purple rose from my bag and place it on the bench inside her locker. The card I wrote has a “Shh” written on the outside, and inside it says, “Good luck today. You’ve got this.”
I hope it helps to get me back into her good graces. After my errand is complete, I head to my office to get some work done. There are a few specs that August asked me to look at for full goalie uniforms. Currently, they’re wearing a padded shirt with the same shorts as the rest of the girls. He wants to them to stand out a bit more and be more one color.
It’s a good idea. It’s what most of the teams are doing. But I don’t care for the color’s he’s chosen. I look at the bright orange and pink and think that Hendrix would certainly hate them. I’m not sure about Miranda and Kate, but I know that they won’t say boo about it. A twinge of guilt hits me when I remember that neither of them have seen the field all season. It’s still a little early, but Hendrix is our best shot at the playoffs. A knock at my door pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Nate.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” he asks, walking in and sitting across from me.
“Not much. Just looking over some possible goalie uniform colors that August is suggesting.” I turn the paper so that he can see the options.
“Eek. I don’t really like any of those. But it’s your call. They’re your goalies.”
I shake my head. “I don’t like them either, but I’ll run my choices by you because it’s your team too.”
“Appreciate that.” He watches me for a moment before continuing. “How are you doing? Everything okay since you’ve been here in the US?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Not homesick or anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve been hanging out with August and Danny. That helps. Found some guys I play pickup with on the weekends. It’s not so bad being over here,” I say with a chuckle.
“Good. I just wanted to check in. I know this whole environment is new to you in some ways. Just making sure there isn’t anything we can do.”
I like Nate. He’s a good guy. He’s working to do great things with the team both on and off the field. “Yeah, I appreciate it, man. Things are going really well here.”
