Chapter 1 #2
He showed me the different conference rooms, including the big one where we were all to meet in the mornings before practice started.
He showed me the cafeteria and the nutritionist offices.
He showed me the large fitness room and where all the personal trainers worked.
He showed me the inside practice area and the doors to the outdoor one.
“We don’t use the inside one a lot anymore,” he informed me.
“We’re supposed to use it when the weather’s bad, but Coach Cal thinks we need to practice in the bad weather too.
Coach Roberts, my coach rookie year, had us using that all the time. ”
I understood Coach Cal’s point, but I didn’t think it was making that much of a difference. Not when I looked at the team’s record, but I supposed it could be worse.
Milo kept up a running commentary all the way into the locker room.
“Coach got you a locker all cleaned out,” he told me as he led me inside.
I took in the lockers around me. Everyone’s area was full of personality.
One guy had a collection of Star Wars Pop Funkos lining the top of his.
Another had a small stack of books. There were fidget toys in another.
They were all fairly organized though and similar to what I was used to in Fayetteville.
Some things were the same no matter where you went.
He stopped in front of an empty locker area with my name handwritten on a placard. One of my suitcases was tucked away in the area meant to hang jerseys and the other was sitting on the bench. On the top shelf there was a gift bag with the Scorpions logo.
“Oooh, you have a present,” Milo chirped. God, did this guy ever stop talking? Did he know how to dial down the energy?
“I see that.”
“You should open it. I love seeing what the team gets the new guys.”
He was practically wiggling with excitement.
If I were a nicer guy, I might have opened it right then and there, but honestly, I didn’t want to.
It was probably some generic thing like a Scorpions hat, and if he were watching, I’d have to feign excitement.
I put the bag on my suitcase. “I’ll open it later. ”
He let out another one of those full body sighs. “Fine. C’mon.”
I didn’t know what else he had to show me, but he clearly had something in mind.
He led me across the locker room and stopped in front of the messiest locker I’d ever seen.
Clothing was piled on the shelves, and several pairs of mismatched cleats were tossed haphazardly under the bench.
There was a bag on the ground, falling over and spilling its contents into the area that was meant for players to get changed.
Pictures lined the dividing wall, layered on top of one another and taped at strange angles.
Knickknacks, fidgets, and various toys were peeking out from every corner.
The longer I looked at it, the more things I noticed in the chaos.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this was Milo’s locker, even without his name and jersey number on the overhead placard.
“Want a snack?” he asked as he reached into the bag on the ground.
He pulled out a small baggie of cookies.
“My Aunt Ethel gave me the recipe, and I made them last night. They smelled really good when they were baking, and let me tell you, it was a struggle not to eat them right as they came out.” He jangled the baggie in front of me, and the strangest smell caught my nose.
I did not trust that smell. I shook my head. “No thank you.”
“Oh, c’mon, they’re probably really good.”
The use of the word probably did not instill a lot of confidence in me, but his full lips were in a bit of a pout, and I probably did need to make a good impression.
He was my teammate, even if he was too loud and too chaotic.
Against my better judgment, I reached out and took one of the cookies.
They were hard. That was the first thing I noticed.
The second thing I noticed was the smell was stronger once the cookie was out of the bag.
I had a terrible sense of foreboding, and if it was possible to regret an action before you took it, I was pretty sure I was feeling that too.
I mentally steeled myself before bringing the cookie to my lips. I was definitely going to regret this.
I took a bite of the cookie. It was hard and dry, and the moment it touched my tongue, I had to fight everything in me to keep from gagging.
There was a chemical vanilla taste that reminded me of this atrocious vanilla protein shake I used to drink in college before I found a better powder and the distinct taste of a burnt bottom.
There was a sour sting to the cookie, and did I taste raisins?
I forced myself to swallow down the bite, and it fought me every bit of the way.
I remembered his earlier offer for water, and I was kicking myself now for not taking him up on it.
I was desperate for something to wash the foul taste from my mouth, and there was no way I could finish this cookie.
My eyes were watering as I looked around for a garbage can.
I wasn’t even sure these cookies were safe to throw in the trash.
Surely, they qualified as some sort of hazardous waste, but I was going to have to risk it.
I tossed the uneaten half of the cookie in the trash can.
When I returned, Milo had a wounded look on his face. “You didn’t like it?”
That was an understatement. I tried to force a smile, but it was impossible when I could still taste the atrocity he’d just convinced me to eat.
I could be tactful though. I could. “What the hell did you put in that cookie?”
Okay, I could not.
Milo thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the side of the baggie.
Each tap sent more of that terrible cookie’s smell into the air.
“Protein powder. I think it was the vanilla one. I thought about using the chocolate or strawberry one, but all I had was vanilla and banana, and who likes banana in their cookies?” He didn’t wait for a response as he continued listing his ingredients.
“Eggs. Raisins. White sugar and brown sugar. Butter. Flour. I think I put in that powdered soda stuff?”
“Baking soda?” God, I hoped that was what he meant.