Chapter 35
RAWLEY
Idon’t feel great about how I responded to Aiden’s observations. They felt like shallow stabs, reminding me that Avery and I aren’t for real.
It wasn’t her fault that Aiden treaded over that ground, but I couldn’t stay at her place and face how it felt to know the end was coming.
So I bolted.
I really hope she isn’t pissed at me.
Shit, I hate how fucking tricky this is.
When I get home, I plan to shower and regroup, maybe hang with Connor to distract myself. I’m not going to tell him everything that’s swirling through my mind about Avery. He’d just tell me “I told you so.”
But maybe we can chill by Landon’s pool or something. We should take advantage of our remaining time together anyway.
Only once I’m get home, Connor’s on his way out in Princeton Soccer sportswear, his contacts on in place of glasses and his car keys chiming in his hands.
“Oh, are you going to work out?”
He stops and looks conflicted. “Yeah.”
Usually, he would ask me to join him, but he’s been so sneaky lately.
“Guess I’m not invited. Have a good time.”
“Yeah,” he repeats before shuttling out the door.
Okay?
Shower for me it is.
Before I get to the bathroom though, a text comes through in the three-way chat with Taylor.
AVERY: Hi Taylor, Aiden said earlier that it might be time to start ending the dating story, but I don’t feel comfortable with that? It’s working, right?
Huh, so she really didn’t feel good about Aiden’s perspective either. I sit on my bed, now feeling my emotions settle from her words and dying to see how Taylor responds.
TAYLOR: He and I haven’t discussed that, to be honest. I don’t see why there’s any reason to pull the plug yet, unless you two want to.
AVERY: Okay. It just feels like it hasn’t been a lot of time, and we want to make sure all our progress in our public perception sticks.
TAYLOR: Definitely.
TAYLOR: I suggest we wait at least until September when Rawley’s season starts. You’ll presumably be in the playoffs, Avery. Plenty to distract everyone with then.
Feeling bolstered by the conversation, I weigh in. Just so everyone’s clear.
RAWLEY: I don’t want to pull the plug now.
Avery puts a heart reaction on my comment.
TAYLOR: That’s settled. It’s ultimately up to you two, but I agree it’d be prudent to wait.
I let out a big exhale.
With that resolved, time for a shower.
But then my phone rings. It’s Avery.
“Hey, Avie.”
“Hey. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to Aiden earlier. Or to you before you left.” She sounds genuinely upset, if only at herself.
“It’s okay.”
“His suggestion just threw me for a loop. But the more I sat with it after you took off, the more uncomfortable I got.”
“I’m glad we got it handled.”
“Me too.”
There’s a pause in the convo.
“So I’ll see you soon,” she says, somewhat awkwardly. “I mean, I’ll text you once I’m in my hotel.”
Why did Aiden have to make things so weird?
We don’t have our next date planned and my schedule is pretty tight with her road trip, Connor leaving soon, and training camp starting after. As elusive as Connor is during the day, he seems to be home for evenings, and we’ll want to hang before he splits for New Jersey.
So the only thing that comes to mind for our next “appearance” is a bit of a repeat, where I can bring along Connor too.
“Can I come to one of your home games next week, when you’re back? I can make an appearance, and then we can head to my place together after, if you want?”
“Yeah, perfect.”
The energy between us is still a little loaded, but hopefully, by the time she’s back, it will be like this never happened.
The next day, I wake up to a text from our offensive coordinator Marshall, asking if I can come to the facility today at ten.
RAWLEY: Yes sir, I’ll be there.
What could this be about? Landon’s on his way back from England with Rori, so I can’t ask him. Nor do I really want to.
Whatever it is, I need to be able to handle it on my own.
Connor’s still asleep when I leave the house at nine, wanting to be really early so I don’t mess up whatever this is.
I have over thirty minutes to kill when I get to the Waves’ facility, but it’s better than being late. I sit in a fabric armchair outside one of the main areas and flip through the playbook mindlessly.
Not really able to absorb any info, I abandon the exercise within ten minutes and pick up my phone instead.
Dad had texted me yesterday about some pitcher having a great game, so I take this chance to reply back.
RAWLEY: Sounds like a good one, sorry I missed it.
He responds back fast.
DAD: Oh yeah, Hellar is a gamer.
I rack my brain for something else I could talk to him about.
It kind of sucks that he can’t be a safe space for me to discuss real things that matter. Like how nervous I am about the meeting or whatever it is that’s about to happen.
But it’s always been my siblings who I’ve had to rely on.
Needing a different distraction, I flip over to YouTube and watch the closed captions on the latest episode of TheBrosKnow, a sports podcast with two brothers, former football players. Unlike Athlete Buzz, they tend to be fair and player-friendly.
They haven’t said my name once in the segments I watch—a blessing—before Marshall texts me to come to Coach Houston’s office.
Here we go.
When I enter, Coach Houston is seated behind his desk, and Marshall in one of the guest chairs.
“Come on in, son,” Coach says. “Take a seat.”
“Yes sir.” I do as he commands.
He sends a warm smile my way. “How are you doing? Did you have a good Fourth?”
“I’m fine, sir.” I can hear the nerves in my voice. “And yes, I did. How about you?”
Understanding filling his expression, he looks quickly to Marshall, then back to me. “Don’t worry, Rawley. Today isn’t about anything bad. The opposite in fact.”
“Okay, thank you, sir.”
He leans back in his chair. “Do you know that around six months ago, Johnson sat in that very chair vouching for you as we quizzed him about possibly picking you in the draft?”
Really? He hadn’t ever mentioned that. “No, I didn’t.”
“And do you know what he told us? That you would be even better than we think, as long as you sign with someone who believes in you.”
Oh.
“And I can tell you,” Marshall adds. “Now that we’ve seen you in the rookie minicamp and the OTAs, we’re believers.”
Oh. “Thank you, sir.”
“He means it,” Coach Houston says. “After the final day at the last OTA, he said—what exactly did you say, Marshall?”
He looks at me square on. “I’ve never seen a rookie wideout with the combination of your athletic skill set and mastery of the playbook this early in the preseason. You’ve been working on it, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Hard.” Thank god for Connor’s strategies, and Johnson and Bailey’s time.
“It shows. Keep it up.”
I finally let out a breath. I never expected this to be the conversation today.
“I will.” My chest starts to swell as my mind absorbs what they’re saying.
Coach Houston speaks next. “We’ve made a big decision, which is one of the reasons we called you in before training camp starts.”
“We want you to practice with the first team, the starters, from the beginning,” Marshall explains. “Like we did during most of the OTAs, but this time, the public and the press will be there watching.”
“That’s going to mean scrutiny from people who don’t necessarily know football,” Coach adds. “That don’t understand the natural learning process of rookies or, heck, anyone new to the team. Are you ready for that?”
I’ve caught up to why he’s checking. They want to make sure I can manage the pressure—and potential for more media questions.
“I am. I can handle it.” I’m not losing my shot at starting.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Coach responds.
“If we’re all on the same page with that,” Marshall says, “we’re going to have Lara, our head of PR, meet with you next. I think she wants to drip positive articles to the press about you, control the narrative coming out on the football front.”
“You certainly have plenty of stories on other fronts.” Coach Houston chuckles. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. No one is going to support your pursuits more than a fellow athlete.”
I blush. It’s kind of surreal to think about Head Coach Rich Houston reading gossip articles about Avery and me.
“Sounds good, I can meet with Lara.”
“Okay great.” Marshall stands up. “Let me walk you there next. I think she planned to connect with your PR rep too.”
I follow his lead and stand, but turn to the man behind the desk.
“Thank you, Coach, it means a lot for you to have faith in me.”
And it does. I’m kind of reeling from everything that’s just happened. I’ve had plenty of positive reinforcement from coaches, but this is the coach. One of the very best, in the NFL.
“You’re welcome. And before you go, Rawley,” he says. “It’s one thing for us to believe in you. It’s another for you to believe in yourself. Trust in yourself—you’ve put in the work.”