Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
ROYCE
I'm not sure why I follow Kenneth after he meets up with Bardot. Maybe it's because I'm curious to know why he turned down my offer to come with him. Or it could be because I have this sixth sense about the entire situation.
If, like Kenneth has mentioned, this other player hasn't shown any interest in wanting to step up, then that's a red flag to me. Why work so hard to become a professional athlete only to give a subpar performance?
I might be a bit biased considering who my brother and future brothers-in-law are, but it's still unfathomable to me. Why settle for less?
The minute they step into the media room, I press my ear against the door. It’s the only way I can catch every bit of what will go down.
At first, the conversation goes as I expect it to. Kenneth sounds nervous. Almost hesitant. Like he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right.
It's when he tells Bardot about Tollide's accident that things shift in a bad way.
My body goes tight at the venom in Bardot’s tone. I reach for the door handle, seconds away from wrenching it open. When I hear Bardot shout “FUCK,” I hesitate.
There's anger in his voice, yes. There's also a great deal of pain.
My brain works to piece everything together. If Bardot and Tollide were in the same year of the original draft and something happened to make Bardot step down, maybe Tollide knows. Were they friends?
I can't recall the specific information about where they grew up or anything like that at the moment. What I do know is that there's a man on the other side of this door who sounds heartbroken at the news his friend, or maybe just teammate, will never play again.
Could it be that he's thinking about himself and what it would have been like had they switched places? Is he nervous about the opportunity to take the lead on this team?
I shake my head and take a step back. A second later, the door slams open, Bardot stomping out past me. I'm thankful my instincts had me moving away. I definitely would've had a broken nose from being so close.
Bardot doesn't notice me as he storms down the hall towards the exit. I frown. We have a team meeting. We're going to tell everyone else about what's going on with Tollide, and I didn’t hear Kenneth tell him he could leave.
I'm not quite sure what to do. I could stay and check on Kenneth but then he'll know that I was eavesdropping. Maybe he'll think more of it. More than I want him to think.
I still can't make sense of it myself. About why I followed him down here. Or why I stayed to listen.
Am I concerned about him? Was I worried?
It's all so confusing.
I spin on my heel, marching to the locker room where today's meeting will be held.
Several of the guys were already there joking around and pushing one another.
They pause when I walk in. Each of them giving me that up nod that's the signature of athletes.
A few even wave and smile. I give polite motions back to each of them before I grab a stool from the corner and plop down on it.
I cross my legs, then shake my foot, a nervous habit I wish would go away.
“You good there, Royce?”
My eyes lift to find Kenneth's friend standing before me. Gillies has his head tilted to the side like he's trying to work a puzzle.
I nod. “Yes, it's just been an odd morning. We had a management meeting earlier and trying to make decisions is… interesting.”
Gillies grins. “Oh yeah? Kenny always hated when it was time to make a decision. He's terrible at them. Poor guy really needs someone to take hold and lead him. Or maybe give him a to-do list every day. He's a forgetful bugger.”
He laughs at his own joke. Meanwhile, my mind takes off in a million directions.
I could be the one to give him that list.
I could be the one to check in on him and make sure he does what he's supposed to. When he doesn't, I could—No!
No, I can't. I won't go down that path of logic.
Besides, Kenneth is my enemy. He always has been. Always will be.
Yeah right. Even my inner voice doesn't believe such foolish thoughts anymore.
I don't get the chance to engage Gillies in any further conversation before Kenneth trudges into the room. He looks beaten down. His body's curled forward, and his arms swing loosely at his sides. I swear if there was a rock on the ground, he would kick it sullenly like a little kid.
Gillies rushes over to him. They stop and speak to one another closely. As I watch, Kenneth nods, then shrugs, and then attempts to straighten himself. Gillies grabs his shoulders, shaking him a little bit. That brings a grin back to Kenny's face.
A pain shoots through my chest. It's sharp, almost as if my heart is being squeezed in a vise grip. I swear, ever since coming into this team, I have felt all out of sorts. Things I shouldn't be feeling. Things I can't feel. Things that overwhelm me.
Head Coach Billy Nyxsin steps into the room, followed by the rest of the coaching staff. He whistles sharply three times in a row. Everyone's attention moves to him in an instant.
“Alright, everyone have a seat. It's time to get this thing started before practice.” Billy gives me and Kenneth each a stern look. “Now I know this isn't going to be the best news, but let's keep it short, shall we?”
I put on my fake smile and thicken my accent when I say, “Well, of course, darling. We will just be fit as a fiddle when it's over.”
Kenneth coughs to cover the bark of laughter he releases. Billy rolls his eyes and steps back in line with the others. Kenneth moves to stand beside me. For a minute I consider standing, but I stop myself. There's no need for any type of power play with him. No need to show off.
If anything, the fact that he doesn't have a seat means that I'm in a better position. Or so I tell myself.
Kenneth claps his hands together beside me. “We have news. It's about Tollide.”
At the mention of their teammate, all the guys straighten. When Kenneth doesn't continue, I sigh and take the lead. This is my job after all. With him leaving and me stepping into place, I'll have to give more of these speeches. Hopefully none as depressing as this one.
“Tollide was in an accident earlier this week.
He has sustained multiple injuries. To be honest, the young man is lucky to be alive.
So much so that he will never play baseball again.
Hopefully he's going to become part of our support staff with the coaches, but we have to wait until he's better to see how he feels about that.”
A hand shoots up as several voices begin to murmur to one another. I point to the young man whose hand is raised.
His name is Marlow I think.
“Yes, what's your question?”
His hand drops, and he stands. “I want to know if there's anything we can do. Gifts or shifts at the hospital or anything like that? We all care about the guy.”
Kenneth nods. “Yes, I know you all care, and he likely knows it too, but he's pretty drugged up right now.
Royce and I went to check on him. His brother North is there taking care of him.
He's also talking about moving back to be able to continue to assist Tollide.
It's a long road to recovery. The biggest thing I think you all can do is be supportive.
Continue to show up. Make him feel like he's still one of us.”
“He is,” I interrupt sternly.
Kenneth turns my way, his eyes wide. The others seem to go still as well. For a room that was just bustling with noise, it's way too quiet.
Clearing my throat, I clarify why I came across so harshly.
“No matter what has happened, Tollide is still a Bellport Blue Jay.
We are his team, his family. I'm hoping, like I said, that he will join us in a staff position so he can stick around.
But even if he doesn't, he's got tickets for life and VIP access anytime he wants. We will not turn our backs on him because of an accident, especially one that he did not control or ask for.”
I pause, taking a deep breath, and making sure my eyes lock with each of the players. I want them to understand how serious I am right now.
Kenneth whispers “fuck” beside me. I don't know if it's what I'm saying or shock that I actually care that makes the expletive leave his lips. I'll have to think it over later.
Continuing, I tell the group, “I’m sure most of you know of my brother Bellamy and his team.
The Bulldogs are amazing guys that I've had the pleasure of knowing for years. I’ve seen the way they connect.
I've been at their house parties and have gone to their birthday events.
I've been to weddings. They're one hundred percent a family even when one of the players gets traded.
Instead of seeing each other in person, it turns to calls and emails, with the occasional flight here or there.
Just because someone isn't on the field playing in each game doesn't mean that they aren't in this.”
The room breaks into applause and shouts. I can feel my cheeks darken slightly at the praise. It's rare for people to let out this kind of accolade. I've had polite claps in a business meeting or a hearty slap on the back with a “good job there, Royce.”
This is different.
This is camaraderie.
I feel more a part of the Blue Jays now. Like they’ve welcomed me fully and finally.
When the noise dies down, I laugh and wave a hand to Kenneth. He picks up on the handoff, moving on with the rest of what we’d planned to tell them.
“With Tollide out, we'll need to fill the role he played for our team.
I'm working on some things for that, but don't be surprised if I call you up and ask you for a hand.
Some things will get shifted around. Practices might run a little bit longer.
I won't do anything to keep you away from your families, and you will have plenty of rest. The Blue Jays will not be defeated by an accident.
I'm not asking for a perfect season. I'm only asking that everyone gives their best from here on out.”