He nods toward the field. “Take your place with your team. We’re doing windows.”
I jump right into the passing and receiving drill, and after a few minutes, it’s as if the last year didn’t even happen. I’m back in time, the Ryden of old, the one who spent the summer before sophomore year hooking up with Shoshanna Harvey, swimming at the lake, drinking a lot of beer. The Ryden who knew absolutely nothing about baby feeding schedules or diaper rash or what the word metastasis means.
My foot connects with the ball over and over again, and each impact is like a jolt of electricity from a defibrillator. Out here on the field, I’m coming back to life.
Dave approaches me at lunch. “Dude.” He gives me a fist bump.
“Hey, Dave.”
“I didn’t know if you were coming today. You seemed kinda freaked out at the lake. And you’ve been totally MIA all summer.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and chew slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. I really don’t want to get into a whole discussion right now. Eventually, I go with, “Yeah, well, here I am. So what’s going on with you and Shoshanna?”
Dave’s eyes glaze over a little, and I know exactly what he’s thinking about. There are certain things Shoshanna Harvey is very, very good at. “Man, she’s amazing. I think I’m in love.”
I smile. He’s not wrong. Sho is amazing, in lots of ways.
“That’s cool with you, right?” he asks way too belatedly. “I mean, you’re totally over her, yeah?”
“Yes, David. I’m over her. I’m happy for you, man.”
He pops a straw into a Capri Sun and downs the whole thing in one sip. I watch as the pouch gets flatter and flatter, powerless as its insides get sucked out. “Whatever happened with you two, anyway? You never told me why you broke up.”
I shrug. “Dunno. Just wasn’t right, I guess.” The truth is, Sho and I had fun, but the same kind of fun over and over again gets old after a while—at least, when there’s nothing underneath. I was ready for something else. Looking back, I was ready to find Meg. Not that Shoshanna’s stupid or anything. She’s actually really smart. And she’s cool too. And fun. But we weren’t right together. And I told her so. She was really pissed off at first, but she got over it. Shoshanna always bounces back. Maybe that’s why she wears so much makeup—it’s a barrier against assholes like me, so nothing we say or do can cut through her mask enough to hurt.
After the break, we play a full game to get back into the rhythm. I block every single shot.
At the end of practice, Coach O’Toole has us all gather around. “Nice work out there, gentlemen. Welcome back.” We all applaud. “Seniors, listen up. Some of you who will be playing D-One have unofficial offers already, and that’s great. Keep talking to the coaches. Now that you’re in your senior year, they’re free to call you once per week. Let’s turn those unofficial offers into official ones. For the rest of you, if you’re planning to play in college, now is the time to start looking at schools and sending out your letters of interest. Don’t dally. Recruiters’ schedules fill up quickly, and you want to make sure they have time to come see you play.”
“Hey, Ryden,” Dave says after Coach lets us go. “A bunch of us are going to Chili’s. You comin’?”
I shake my head. “Can’t do it, man.”
He nods, like he expected me to say that. “Cool. See you tomorrow then.”
I shower quickly and hop in the car. I have thirty minutes to get to Alan’s, pick up Hope, drop her off with Mom, and get to work.
But really, all I’m thinking about is writing the UCLA head coach. I know Coach said those letters were for guys who don’t have any interest from recruiters yet, but I also know the UCLA recruiter needs to see me play one more time—in person—before offering me my scholarship. As far as I know, that visit hasn’t been scheduled. So it couldn’t hurt to remind them that I’m the guy for their team.
Chapter 8
“How’d it go?” I ask Alan as I bundle Hope into her car seat. She’s holding on to her spider stuffed animal, staring up at me, a little like Hey, I remember you.
She starts to get cranky the second that recognition kicks in. Of course.
“Great!” he says. “She’s amazing.”
I walk out to the car, and Alan follows. “Thanks, man,” I say. “I really appreciate it. So you’re cool for tomorrow?”
“Yeah, no prob. My mom’s in love with her too. She wants to make her Korean baby food. Is that okay?”
“Sounds good.” I get in the car. “See ya, Alan.”
“Ryden, wait.”
I roll down the window. “Yeah?”
“You didn’t call to check on her today.” He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure something out.