But my head feels quieter. Not empty, just focused.
Warmups are clean. The game kicks off and I catch the first two passes. On the third pass from Greyson, I’m no longer thinking. I’m reacting again. I just move and the ball sticks to my hands. My chest expands and I beat my fist against it. This is me. This is the feeling I love. The one I thought I lost.
By the second quarter, I’m in rhythm.
Touchdown. Our small contingent of fans explodes in the upper deck. Teammates crash into me, helmets knocking, hands grabbing me, and voices shouting in my ear.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m not thinking about the passes I’ve dropped in the past or if I’ll drop one next time. I’m soaking it all in.
The first thing I do after a locker room shower is call Annika.
Answering on the first ring, she chirps, “You did it.” There’s a genuineness in her tone.
“You were watching?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” There’s no hesitation. “No drops. Not one.”
“First time in a while. Thank you.”
I lean back against the locker. The guys are flicking me, rubbing my head, knocking the metal doors in celebration.
“So am I fixed?”
I hear her take a breath. If I’m fixed what does that mean for us?
“It’s progress,” she says.
“That’s not an answer.” I huff out a laugh, grinning from ear to ear. I’m so fucking happy to have my body and mind working together again.
When she doesn’t answer, I say, “Fine answer me this. Am I catching because my brain’s working again… or is it because I can’t stop thinking about you?”
“Those things may not be separate.”
That lands somewhere deep because she’s admitting that us being together may have an effect on my game.
“So either way, you get the credit.”
“Obviously,” she says, keeping her tone light. “But don’t get cocky,” she adds. “It’s one game.”
“Yeah but I had a decent game after…”
“Shh… you’re in the locker room aren’t you?”
I look over my shoulder. “Everyone’s gone.”
This isn’t about football anymore and that scares the daylights out of me as my granny would say.
TWENTY-FIVE
ANNIKA
Before I’m fully awake, I hear the buzz of my phone. Groaning, I roll over onto my side and squint at the screen. Parker. That alone wakes me up. I get up on my elbows and open the message.
Parker: You awake?
I huff out a breath.
Me: Define awake. It’s 5:30am.