Page 91 of Fair Catch
Maybe it was his trust in me, his belief that I could be better, or maybe it was that I hadn’t realized everything he’d so easily pointed out.
I had lifted my grades.
I had written that paper — all on my own.
And I showed up here every day — for my teammates, for my coaches, and for myself.
Pride simmered in my chest as Coach looked at his laptop again, clicking over to review tape. “Find Novo and send her in next.”
My smile plummeted, along with my stomach, but I managed to nod like I was fine and exit his office on stable legs.
The locker room was quiet, though I heard music and laughter echoing down the hall from the weight room. I checked there first, and when I came up empty, I jogged out to the field.
Riley was the only one left, the stadium eerily quiet under the gray sky sprawling out above it. There was no wind, no movement in the air, just a cold stillness that felt like a vacuum as I slowly made my way toward her.
She set a ball up in the field goal ball holder, one metal leg of it holding the top of the ball stable against the ground as she backed up to her normal spot. Two big steps back, two big steps to the left. Her fingers wiggled at her sides as her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, and then she jogged up and kicked.
For a miss.
I paused at the forty-yard line, watching as she set another ball up only to repeat the same thing. This time she made it, but her reaction was like she’d missed again.
“Your standing foot was in good position that time,” I said, tucking my hands in the pockets of my joggers as I carefully approached her from behind. “Nice job.”
She stiffened at the sound of my voice, back going rigid and arms gluing to her sides. After a moment, she released a small breath, turning and glancing at me only briefly before she was lining up the ball again.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I asked, and I wanted to kick myself as soon as the words left my mouth, especially when Riley gave me no response other than a look that told me she had no interest in talking to me.
I was quiet so she could make her next kick, which she missed, and I knew it was because she didn’t follow through. Her approach was inconsistent every time, and something in my gut told me it was just a bad practice day, one she needed to let go of so she could start anew tomorrow.
But she let out a frustrated growl, lining up another ball and barely getting into position before she kicked the shit out of it. It was good, but wobbly and crazy as hell.
“Riley,” I warned.
“Leave me alone, Zeke,” she said, voice calm despite how she was visibly shaking. She lined up another ball.
“Riley.”
She kicked, and the ball hit the goal post before bouncing down to the ground.
A curse flew off her lips, but before she could grab another ball, I stepped between her and the bag. “Coach wants to see you.”
She stilled at that, her eyes slowly crawling up the length of me until she met my gaze. I offered her the best version of a smile I could manage, hoping that she read through it that it was good news this time.
Hope flitted in her eyes, but it died as quickly as it was born, and she hung her hands on her hips, looking out at the end zone littered with the balls she’d kicked.
“I’ll pick them up,” I told her. “Just go.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I got it,” I insisted.
She nodded, swallowing, and then without another glance at me, she turned for the locker room.
I knew I should have turned, too. I should have gathered the balls and put them away, headed inside for a shower, watched a little tape before retreating to the dorm. I needed to study. I needed to do a homework assignment. I needed to do anything but watch Riley walk away from me.
But that was all I wanted to do.
I catalogued every curve, noted how her hair was pulled into a high, tight ponytail, little strands frizzing out at the sides. I traced the back of her neck, her spine, the span of her arms where they swayed at her sides…
Until they stopped.
Riley paused ten yards away from me, her fingers curling into fists at her sides, and then she whipped around so fast I didn’t have time to grasp what was happening. She ran toward me, and though my arms begged for me to open them wide and sweep her up and away, I knew from the blood-thirsty glare in her eyes that wasn’t what she wanted.
