Do I like it? I love it. I especially loved how many times she used the word we when outlining the plan.
“Like isn’t a strong enough word, Blue. This means everything to me, truly. Thank you.”
I don’t miss the proud little smile that slides across her lips from being praised for her brilliant mind instead of being warned to hold herself back. It makes me want to spend every day of the rest of my life reminding her just how incredibly bright she is until I get to watch those insecurities wash away.
The detail and care she put into every single page bleeds into the words as I flip through the pages.
“This is what you went to school for?”
“Yep. My degree is in business with concentrations in finance and administration. I had planned to go into the field after I graduated.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I quickly learned that most of the time, I would be working with rich people to make them even richer, and numbers got real boring that way.”
Indy takes a bite of her breakfast, and I can’t help but stare. She’s more intelligent than she allows most people to see. She’s wonderful at putting on a happy mask and making sure everyone around her feels good about themselves. I can imagine that it got exhausting when stroking the egos and pockets of the wealthy.
She’s, as always, an interesting mix of idealism and logic, leaning towards the romantic side. The soft side. The loving side where she lets herself feel everything and care for everyone. I’m sure it was hard for her to find much feeling behind numbers.
But this, finding a way to help kids, you can see the passion she’s put into this business plan.
“So you became a flight attendant instead?”
“Mm-hmm,” she says with a happy hum. “I love my job. I’m with people all day and I get to travel the world. I wanted to see as much of it as I could before I settled down with a family one day.” Eyes darting to mine, she swiftly changes the subject, clearing her throat. “Are you going to your game tonight?”
It’s the first one since my injury and though I was given permission to skip, I promised Leon I’d be there to help him. I want to help him. I want us to win, regardless that I won’t be the one putting up the points.
“I am. Are you?”
“Do you want me there?”
“I want you there.”
I want you everywhere.
“Then I’ll be there.”
This morning’s press conference was the first since my injury and easily the longest of my career. Endless questions that I answered, as always, as diplomatically as possible.
When am I back? Hopefully three to four weeks.
How are you feeling? Great. I’ve made progress in the few short days since it happened.
Do you think the team will be able to pull off a month without you? I have faith in my guys.
If I could be honest, I’d tell the truth—that I feel as if I let an entire organization, an entire city down. But I have to be perfect, on at all times, and that includes media interviews. I can’t let them see me sweat.
I couldn’t be more thankful that I’m not on crutches as I stand on the sidelines. The stares and speculation are enough. I can almost feel the cameras zooming in on me, reporters talking about me in their broadcasts.
I hate it.
“You doing okay, man?” Ethan smacks my shoulder.
“As good as I can be.”
“It’s big of you to be here. This is the time when you find out the kind of leader you are. You’re not faking it for Ron. You’re showing up for them.” He motions towards the team.
I’ve spent the last handful of months curating my life in order to convince my boss that I’m a good leader. But today, he wasn’t on my mind when I made the decision to show up, and for the first time in a long time, I’m beginning to feel like my old college self. The one who led his team to two national championships. The guy who trusted people without second-guessing their motives.
I miss the old me, but my body feels light with hope that I’m on the way back to him.
My chair is the first on the bench after the coaching staff and my feet have been bouncing with energy for the entire first quarter as I attempt to stay seated.
Leon started, but he’s been struggling. More so on defense. He’s a hell of a shooter and can create a play especially with the other talent he’s got out there on the court, but he’s up against one of the best point guards in the league with Toronto’s starter.
It’s much harder for him to see the court the way I do, but that’s what years of experience earns you. For now, I can be his eyes.
Leon gets pulled at the end of the first quarter to start his first break of the game, and with a single domineering “move” to the guy next to me, suddenly the chair to my right opens for him to take a seat.
He leans in close, trying to hear me over the packed arena.
“You’re doing good,” I reassure.
He exhales heavy breaths. “He’s a step ahead of me every time he drives the lane.”
“That’s because you expect him to go right, but he prefers the left. Every time. And yes, he’s faster than you. That’s just a fact, so take a gamble and cheat that way. Best-case scenario, you’ll stop him from driving the lane. Worst-case scenario you let him take you on the right and you learn for the next time. He’s also got a hell of a tell. Whichever way he’s attempting to drive he slightly shifts his weight on the ball of that foot for half a second. Barely visible. Look for it.” I pat him on the back. “You’ve got this.”
The next time Leon is back on the court, he takes away the left and throws Toronto’s point guard off-balance long enough to strip the ball. The time after that, he watches his opponent’s feet with precision and the moment he shifts his weight, Leon is able to cut him off and get a hand on a sloppy pass, causing a turnover that the Devils recover.
I might not be out there, but holy hell this feeling is almost as euphoric as if I were the one making the plays myself.
The next dead ball, Leon looks over like an excited little kid who just made his first bucket. It’s charming and sweet, and I’m proud as hell of him.
My coach walks by with a pat on my shoulder. “Nice work, Shay.”
After the postgame interviews and celebratory speeches in the locker room, I head out with my suitcase in tow, determined to find Indy before getting on the team bus and heading to the airport. I want to see her in my space. She looks good here.
She looks good everywhere.
And as I turn the corner out of the locker room, I’m pleasantly surprised to find Indy outside of the family waiting room.
Stevie and my parents have been down here countless times, but I never thought I’d have someone else waiting for me. And Indy of all people, my sister’s best friend. Fucking stunner wearing my jersey.
“I didn’t know where I should go. Annie told me to come down with her, but she and the kids went home already, and now I feel like I’m intruding,” Indy quickly explains as I swallow up the space between us.
“You’re in the exact right place.”