Chapter 41 - Colson
forty-one
Colson
The echo of the ball against the hardwood settles something in my chest. Makes me feel like I’m at home.
It’s been two weeks since I called Howie and told him I wasn’t finished. How I was ready to find my next team. Two weeks of waking up sore in the good way, of rehab bands and makeshift ice baths, of trusting my shoulder again instead of flinching every time I lifted my arm over my head.
Today is Sadie’s idea, actually.
Invite them to see you, she’d said, like it was obvious. Let them watch you move. Actions speak louder than words. You know that.
So now I’m at the rec center, the same one that only a few weeks ago smelled like mildew and rainwater after the storm. The court gleams like it’s ready for something new.
I roll my shoulders as I jog through warm-ups, focusing on form, on rhythm.
Howie stands near the sideline with his phone up, already filming, his familiar intense expression locked in.
Two other guys—contacts he pulled through favors and old relationships—stand a few feet away, quietly taking notes.
They work with teams that had expressed interest, before I even made the choice to come back.
Howie asked if I wanted to know what teams they were from and I said no.
Doesn’t matter. The goal remains the same: to show them I’m worth a shot.
And then there’s Sadie.
She’s on the bleachers with her laptop open, legs tucked beneath her, hair pulled back. She’s pretending to be focused on something—camp schedules or some admin—but I know better. I can feel her eyes on me.
A night on my own is rare lately. Somewhere between dinners at her place, mornings at mine, late walks and sunsets at the beach, we’ve sort of… folded into each other’s lives. Easily. The thought steadies me as I move into drills.
I cut hard, pivot, pull up. The shot feels clean. My shoulder doesn’t protest. I hear the ball hit the bottom of the net and something loosens in my chest.
You can do this.
I run through another sequence, breathing controlled, body leaning into muscle memory. Every movement feels like proof—not only to them, but to me.
When I glance up again, Sadie’s smiling, a bit restrained, like she doesn’t want to distract me but can’t help it. I swear it gives me an extra inch of lift.
Between reps, I grab my water bottle, hands on my hips, heart thudding. Howie nods at me, with a look that says this is good without saying it out loud. One of the scouts murmurs something to the other, scribbling faster now.
This feels doable. The next team. The next city.
But right on its heels comes the ache that’s been hanging around for a bit.
Golden Harbor has been good to me. Better than I expected.
There’s a part of me that tightens at the thought of summer ending, of packing this up and leaving—of leaving her.
The idea sits deep in my stomach, dull and uncomfortable, like I don’t want to look at it too closely yet.
One thing at a time.
I head back out onto the court, catching Sadie’s gaze for a brief moment. She lifts her chin, almost saying you’ve got this without words.
I know I do.
I take the ball at the top of the key, breathe once, then drive.
My feet leave the floor before my brain can overthink it. My shoulder holds. My body follows through. I rise and slam the ball through the rim with a clean, sharp snap that echoes through the rec center.
For a split second, everything goes quiet.
Then Howie claps, loud and sharp. He’s on his feet, grinning like he won an argument he’s been having for months.
“That’s it,” he booms, voice bouncing off the walls. “He’s back, baby.”
I land, heart hammering, a laugh breaking out of me before I can stop it. It feels good—better than good. It feels right. Like muscle memory and belief finally lined up again. I know I can fucking do this.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sadie clap too, softer, her smile wide and proud in a way that hits me straight in the chest.
I jog back, grabbing my towel as sweat drips down my temples. The two scouts exchange looks now, nodding to each other, one of them already tapping something into his phone. Clearly, they’re interested in me.
I walk over, still catching my breath, adrenaline buzzing under my skin.
“Hey,” I say sincerely. “Thanks for making the trip. I know it’s the middle of summer and not exactly easy to get to.” I shake both of their hands.
One of them waves it off. “Worth it. Glad to see you back, Colson.”
Howie slaps my shoulder, careful of the bad one like always. “Told you,” he says under his breath. “You’re not done yet.”
“Of course he’s not,” Sadie agrees, standing next to me. She’s wearing that smirk, the one I love to kiss.
Howie laughs; it’s the kind that tells me he immediately likes someone. We’ve worked together long enough that we know all of each other’s tells. Believe me, I get it.
Having her in my corner like this? Giving me the time and space here? It’s everything.
He nods to her. “That’s what I’ve been saying!” He’s enthusiastic and clearly excited.
Honestly, I realize I missed him more than I let myself believe. Howie’s always been in my corner. When I told him everything, came completely clean on the questionable care, and the reckless behavior that had me losing my shit.
I could hear in his voice how sorry he was for me, so getting him to show up here was easy. He truly supports me. He’s currently working with my lawyer to discuss how to share this with new teams who may ask.
It’s clear the information most likely has to be made public. It’s what will keep other athletes safe and help get me back on track.
The guys pack up, reiterating they’re happy with what I had to show them, and then it’s just me and Sadie.
“You were so good!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I try to keep a little space between us and say, “I’m so sweaty. You want me to shower.”
She slows, putting her nose to mine, and then kisses me. “You think I care about a little sweat? Wrong girl.” She puts her lips to mine again. “But it’s Thursday. You know what that means.”
“I’ll never look at a Thursday the same way ever again.”
“You’ll start doodling little cherries in your planner. I can see it now.” She presses herself into me, making writing gestures with one of her hands.
“You know there’s no way I have a planner.” I must do something with my face because her eyes go wide and she pushes a finger in my chest.
“Oh my god! There it is! That signature Colson Burke scowl… or something close to it.” Sadie puts both hands on the sides of my face, lightly tapping my cheeks.
I playfully roll my eyes and try not to let the grin get the best of me. “Come on, I do have to shower if you want to get to Cherry Pit tonight.”
“Can I come, too?”
That devilish smirk on those perfect lips. Her eyes sparkle like the fireworks on the Fourth of July. Before she can tell what I’m doing, I pick her up, throw her over my shoulder—the good one—and carry her outside the rec center, right into my house.
She’s laughing so hard I can feel it while holding onto her. I swear, that laugh, the light she brings, has brought me back to life.