7. Ava
I”m convinced that butterflies will never actually go away for me. Not the good kind where someone falls in love with someone else, but the kind that means my nervous system is working overtime because I’m worried about what’s to come.
The tournament this weekend is kind of like a warm-up for the summer. Instead of flying back east like we’ll have to do for the rest of the tournaments, this one is in Salt Lake. I”m not even playing in this game and I”m feeling the effects of the old adrenaline I”m used to. If only my body had avoided injuries time and time again, life might look different right now.
Then again, I don”t know who would take care of Gran now that Gramps is gone. She”s a feisty lady, but she still needs that love and someone to check in on her.
”Okay, ladies,” I say to the group right before we”re to take the field. This tournament is only an hour from where we live, which means competition isn’t as fierce as it will be. But I”m just as nervous for the girls as I will be before the start of every tournament. They”ve all been working so hard. I hope they”ll be able to play well, especially during the tournaments where there are a lot of college coaches watching the games.
”Are we ready for today?”
”Yeah!” they shout as a group.
”Go out there and work your tails off. Pass and move up the field quickly. If you”re tired, get off and we”ll get someone in for you. We don”t want to run out of gas when we’ve got the ball.”
We put our hands in for a cheer, and I wait as they run out and take their places.
Movement close to me causes me to turn, and it”s not our typical yellow and white attire, but Charlie in a pair of khakis and a black t-shirt. I don”t know if the tight-fitting shirt accentuates his muscles a lot more or if he”s just grown Hulk muscles overnight, but it”s very distracting. So I shut down those thoughts the best way I can and focus on the case of sports drinks in his grasp.
”Parents and fans are supposed to sit on the opposite side of the field,” I say, adjusting my sunglasses and following the play.
He nods. ”Yeah, I didn”t get here in time to drop these off for the team.”
”Thank you, but next time, check with Whitney. She”s in charge of assigning team snacks.”
He nods and says, ”Sounds good.”
With that, he turns and walks away. He”s not even going to fight me on this? I don”t know why I think of him like that. Probably because we’ve done a lot of verbal sparring in the past.
I turn my focus back to the game, nearly losing my voice from yelling at the girls to get into position several times throughout the game. It was a close one, but we lost by one.
Our next game is only two hours later. The girls have small snacks they brought with them, but Whitney walks over with an enormous grin on her face, two large bags in her hand from the nearest sandwich shop.
I frown, trying to figure out what this is for. We rarely have enough money to cover team accommodations, let alone getting the team food.
”Here”s some lunch, ladies,” Whitney says in a singsong voice.
”Why did you do this?” I ask, whispering to Whitney.
”We just figured the girls deserved it,” she says, grinning at me again. “You always tell them nothing heavy, like burgers and milkshakes. Sandwiches are perfect.”
I turn to look at the group of parents who are seated a little way off in the shade and make eye contact with Charlie. He had to be behind this.
Whitney continues to pass the sandwiches out, and I stomp over to Charlie. ”Did you pay for the sandwiches?”
”I don”t know what you”re talking about?” he says, trying to hide a grin.
”The ones Whitney is handing out.” I point behind me and wait for his response.
”I’m not familiar with the restaurants around here,” he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts and it makes his muscles flex again. Oh, have mercy.
Now is not the time for my body to be buzzing because I’m attracted to the guy. What happened to the red flags that usually go off for me? Sirens? Something would be great.
I can”t stay next to him anymore. The guy is almost like my ex with his throwing around money wherever he can. I”ll just have to wait and see if Charlie will accuse me of being a gold digger later. Yeah, that would be like repeating every part of my explosive relationship.
I”m focusing on the notepad I use to write thoughts throughout the game. It helps me know what to work on for upcoming games, how to instruct players, as well as what to focus on in practice.
It”s then that Charlie approaches and sits down next to me on the grass, bringing with him a light scent of sandalwood.
Don”t take another sniff.I never thought I’d have to tell myself that.
”How”s it going?” Charlie asks.
”It”s going,” I say, keeping my focus on the notebook in front of me.
”Do you take all your notes in that notebook?” he asks, reaching over to turn a page back to read it. I swat his hand away before my manners come out.
”Sorry. I rarely let people read this,” I say, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
”So you”re saying you”d let me read it?” Charlie asks.
”No. It helps me prepare for games.”
”There are these things called phones. They have apps that will let you take notes and then you don”t have to carry around an extra notebook.”
I shake my head. ”I”ve never found one that worked for everything I needed it to.”
”Oh really? Like what?”
I groan inwardly. I shouldn”t be having this conversation right now. ”How about we table this for later? I need to get ready for the game.”
Charlie nods, standing. ”Of course. Good luck.”
Why am I oddly irritated at his tone? It’s been less than a week since the stitches incident, but he”s getting under my skin, and not in a good way. It’s like he’s gone from this guy I can argue with to a golden retriever.