13. Nolan
Nolan
Katie: The answer’s still no.
P almer sniggers as he reads the text over my shoulder. “You might as well pick up your shit and move back into the dorms.”
It’s been four days since the party and Katie’s feelings haven’t thawed at all.
I don’t voice my doubts that he’s right because our bus pulls up at the airport, straight on the tarmac in front of the private jet that our team takes when flying to away games.
My phone buzzes again as I climb the stairs up to the aircraft and I see Hadley’s name. I sent her a text an hour ago asking for her weekend plans.
Hadley: I have to keep practicing my introduction speech and prepare an informative speech b/c once I pass the first speech, I have to prepare to present the second one.
Me: What are you going to teach the class? How to set up a trip wire?
Hadley: That’s top-secret information.
Me: What other top-secret information are you planning to share with me?
The dots beside her name flash, then disappear. I take a seat near the front, setting my bag under the chair in front of me. My phone vibrates with another text as I clip my seat belt.
Hadley: That’s the only piece of top-secret information I have to trade.
Me: Why’d you choose Camden?
Hadley: That’s not top-secret, simply irrelevant.
Me: I think I should be the judge of that.
Hadley: How many times have you used that line?
Me: Zero.
Hadley: Are you heading to practice?
I reach my arm out and take a picture of me smiling while Palmer sticks his tongue out behind me. I send her the photo.
Hadley: I thought your game wasn’t until Friday?
Me: It is. We generally travel a day early to Florida.
Hadley: Because of the time zone change that doesn’t happen?
Me: I think they say it’s because of possible weather conditions, but I’m betting it’s because our head coach’s daughter lives here.
Hudson fills the seat beside me and pulls out an iPad, opening the video-sharing app to watch tape. “Did you hear back from Katie?”
I nod. “She’s softening up.”
Hudson smirks, scrolling through the footage he wants to study.
Hadley: Was or is public speaking hard for you?
Me: Last year, I felt sick before every game, knowing I’d have to speak to the press.
Hadley: I sent my brother-in-law books about how babies are born and about menstruating. It really wasn’t a prank, more of a joke to his ego because he apparently learned nothing except how to make the baby.
Hadley: …his gift was packed inside a sealed bag surrounded in fake blood… because I’m kind of an asshole.
I feel a sense of accomplishment or relief that she finally shared the contents of the gift with me.
I’ve questioned this detail far too much over the past couple of weeks.
I imagine her cheeks blushed from admitting this, blue eyes bright with nerves as she awaits my reaction. It isn’t at all what I’d imagined.
Me: Fake blood to represent birth?
Hadley: And periods. He thought we chose what days we menstruate.
Me: Tell me there was a note.
Hadley: With a dripping blood font.
Me: That’s solid.
Hadley: Lanie said he nearly threw up. I feel perversely accomplished.
I chuckle, drawing Hudson’s attention.
“Who’s that?” he asks.
I shake my head, striving for nonchalance. Hudson doesn’t meddle, but Palmer sure as hell will. Hudson accepts my response, firing off a couple of messages as he waits for my attention.
Me: Describe your relationship with him in three words.
Hadley: Gahhh. Seriously? That’s impossible. Our relationship is … confusing.
Hadley: Okay, turbulent, sarcastic, and professional.
It’s the last response I was expecting.
Me: I thought you guys would be close since you pull pranks on each other.
Hadley: He’s very clinical and he rarely puts my sister as a top priority. He’s a nice enough guy, he’s just not the guy I wished for her.
Me: I feel that way about every guy my sisters date.
Hadley: It can be hard when you want to like someone more than you actually like them.
Me: Or like someone more than you want to like them.
My text goes beyond flirting in the right context, but it likely sounds more like a stupidly vague social media post rather than a confession, which it is.
Hadley: What do your parents do?
Me: My dad’s a firefighter and my mom’s a teacher. We also have a white picket fence around our childhood home, to really paint the picture.
Hadley: The crazy pyro type of firefighter like my uncle?
Me: They’re all like that.
Hadley: Do you get along with your parents?
Me: Mostly.
Me: Do you get along with your parents?
Hadley: Disturbingly well. My mom would be perfectly fine if I lived with them forever and my dad would legit build me an adult-sized treehouse if I asked.
Me: My dad insists we all move out when we’re eighteen. It was a rule his parents had, too. My mom was gone a lot, trying to make up for other kids’ absent parents.
Hadley: My parents were gone a lot, too. They went to their 8-5 jobs, then got home and worked on the new company.
Me: Who watched you?
Hadley: Sometimes Lanie and Geoff.
Me: Sometimes?
Hadley: I’ve always been pretty good at following the rules. I’m more like Katie, less like you.
Me: Maybe you should learn to use that sharp tongue and those sharp eyes to cut through some red tape. You might like the other side…
Hadley: Maybe I should find a cutlass.
Me: Maybe you are a cutlass.
Hadley: How do you calm yourself down before doing an interview? I always feel like I’m seconds away from getting sick.
Me: I imagine doing something I like. Something that makes me feel calm.
Hadley: Football?
Me: My thoughts aren’t usually that … PG…
Hadley: You imagine having sex while talking to a room full of people?
Me: Why did your mind jump to sex?
The dots beside her name vanish and reappear half a dozen times. I know her cheeks are flaming red, right now.
Me: Sometimes I think about sex. Sometimes I think about being at the beach, with no expectations or bullshit. Last week, I was thinking about what you sent your brother-in-law.
Hadley: So, find my Zen?
Me: Find your Zen.
Hadley: My class just started. Good luck with your game, Friday.
Me: Think about things that make you happy. Send me a list after class. These are things you can think about before giving your speech.
I sit back in my seat, disappointed the conversation has ended. Every time I talk to her, I find the list of questions and subjects I want to discuss, and hear her thoughts on, grows longer.
I shift my focus to the screen in front of Hudson, my phone still tight in my fist in case Hadley texts me again.
Since our offense is built around passing rather than running, it forces most teams to press Hudson, attempting to get to him while closing the lanes so the other running backs and I can’t get where we’re supposed to be so the ball doesn’t move up the field.
“Their safeties are both quick.” Hudson rewinds, without commenting about my lack of attention, pointing out details he’s noticed while running theories by me.
Hudson’s lived and breathed football since birth.
He’s thorough and notices details most of us overlook, pointing out holes in their defense and potential risks and areas to exploit their weaknesses.
“Krueger wants us to slow things down, again,” Hudson says as they announce we’re ten minutes from landing.
I nod. “It makes sense. They’re a fast team.”
“We’re faster.”
I smirk. “Hell yes we are, and Palmer will run circles around their defense.”
“But, they’re expecting that.”
I meet his eyes, recognizing his indecision. “They’ll try to blitz.”
“We’ve only run the trick play in practice.”
“Plus, Peters will lose his shit. He was an asshole all week over us changing direction last weekend,” I remind him.
“But Florida won’t expect it.”
“You should be having this conversation with Grey. He’s better at thinking through the logistics and understanding the PC bullshit.”
“You see opportunities on the field no one else does.”
I shake my head. “I just tell you what I’d do.”
Hudson nods. “Because you played defense all through high school.”
“Half the guys on the team did. You were the only prodigy.”
He glowers. “I don’t want to make decisions based on Peters or fearing his retaliation. I want to make decisions that ensure we’ll win.”
“We’re a passing team because you’ve got a cannon for an arm and because that’s what Peters knows to coach but we could be one hell of a running team. It isn’t worth risking our positions or Peters’s wrath because we’re going to win, despite his thirty-year playbook.”
“If Peters wasn’t a consideration?”
I release a long sigh. “Florida’s going to crowd the line of scrimmage.
If we attacked the entire field, we’d force mismatches.
We could run traps, power plays, isolations, pick passes, and leads to exploit the hell out of them.
They wouldn’t know what hit them.” I’m only reiterating what he already knows.
“We’re good enough. We’ll still have this win. Let’s pull these risks against a tougher team.”
“I thought you liked risks?”
“And I thought you were the nice one in our group.”
Hudson chuckles then inclines his head as my phone vibrates with a text. “Hadley?”
I confirm the message is from her and then nod.
“You’re worried about Katie?”
“Her first rule for allowing me to live there was I can’t date, flirt, or hook up with her roommates.”
Hudson laughs jauntily, enjoying my predicament. “So you can have the girl or live off campus?”
“I don’t know if this is the right time.”
“Right time for what?”
I shake my head. “You know how busy shit gets.”
“I also know you encouraged me to make things work with Evelyn.”
“That’s because you were an asshole leading up to finally asking her out,” I remind him.
He stares at me, as though he’s just had an epiphany. “You haven’t dated anyone since your ex, freshman year. Not even in the off-season.”
“We don’t have a damn off-season. We have an off-week.”