"Who?"
"Fumbles. It's what a lot of the guys call April Gray, since she seems to keep fumbling every assignment she's handed. I'm surprised you got to practice in one piece."
I'm hot suddenly, and I shove Robbie away. “Well she seems fine to me.”
“All right. Think your nuts can take over now?"
I can, and I do, running the offense through the rest of the plays until it's time for the defense to get their reps in. As I watch, catching a breath before I go back to working some more with my throwing grip, I think about what happened between me and Robbie, and how it angered me that he called April “fumbles”. I guess I finally understand why Duncan nearly beat the shit outta me for calling Carrie Mittel 'PAT' during the game against Farmington.
Does that mean that I'm starting to have feelings for April? I think about what I said to her, about searching for my One. I've used it as a line, an angle for getting into a girl's bed, but for some reason . . . last night it didn't sound like as much bullshit as normal.
Maybe I’m just in a dry spell, that’s all. I'll hook up with April, we can have some fun. I’ll show her what she’s been missing, that she needs to get out there and find a man.
Practice ends, and after I shower I find April waiting for me outside the locker room. "Hi. How was apartment setup?"
"Your stuff is mostly set up,” she answers plainly.
I smile and pat her on the shoulder. "Thanks. What's still left?"
"I didn't get your dresser put together," she says, "I can do it tomorrow."
"Forget it, I'll do it on the weekend," I say with a laugh. "Actually, I had another question for you. What are you doing Wednesday night?"
"Wednesday?" she asks, surprised. "Uh . . . nothing. I was going to visit my parents on Saturday."
"Great," I say with a smile, taking her left hand and squeezing it. "So how about you and I go out on another date? I'll let you pick everything, it can be casual, dressy, whatever you want. Hell, open to just chilling on the side of the lake, or whatever else you want."
"I don't know Tyler," April says, her voice faulty. "I meant what I said. We work together, I work for you even. If it goes bad…”
“April, even if that did happen, I’m not one to hold grudges. Just . . . last night was a lot of fun, and I'd like to do it again, that's all."
I'm playing up my own nervousness, but it's not all an act. I really do want her to say yes, and not just to get my rocks off. What the hell's wrong with me? “Come on, April, I know you had fun too.”
"Okay," she finally says, blushing again. "I'll think of something, can I tell you tomorrow?"
"That's fine," I reply. "Thanks. So why are you waiting outside the locker room?"
"The front office wanted me to get your signature on some forms here for the insurance company. It's for your car."
"Sure, that's fine," I say, scribbling where she’s put the little Post-It flags. "I saw you at practice."
"I saw you too," April says, blushing before starting to giggle. "Sorry, but it looked painful."
I laugh, the ghost of the pain hitting me again, but not too badly. I'll still want to be freeballin' for the rest of the night, which I fully intend to do when I get back to my apartment, but I'm able to grin and bear it for now. "Yeah, I should have been paying more attention. Not the smoothest thing in the world, was it?"
"No . . . I guess not," April says with a little smile. It's good to see. "Will you be all right?"
"Yeah, it's better already. I’ll soak in the tub tonight, but I'm fine. It's good to see you got a laugh out of it though. Maybe I'll have Vince throw a ball into my nuts more often.”
"Oh no, don't do that!" April suddenly gushes before realizing I was just kidding.
I laugh and give her hand a squeeze. "Okay then, and I'll remember to wear some protection next time too. But seriously, think about what you want to do Wednesday night, and we'll have a good time. I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," April says, and I head out to my car. I drive home, taking my playbook with me and the video memory card that Coach gave to me to study overnight. I've got a lot of work to do.
I pull out my laptop and put the SD card in the slot, pulling up the videos of last year's offense. I've got a good computer, one of the types that can be both a laptop and a tablet if you remove the screen portion, so I decide that my balls really could use a little more TLC, and I take the whole thing into the bathroom, where I run a warm bath.
I draw the bath, then slide in, looking forward to the time I can afford a larger place, or at least a place with a better bathtub that's built for six foot two inch athletes. I watch the video while I soak my lower body, the warmth easing the light ache still between my legs.