12. Ryder
Ryder
It’s been a week and a half since I last saw Alice.
It feels like it’s been years.
Well, maybe it has.
But again, I’m glad for the break. The handful of times in August feels like a handful too many, but at the same time, it doesn’t.
I made fun of Alice drinking coffee, calling it a dependency.
The ironic part is that’s what she always was to me.
I needed her in a way that would calm me and ground me.
I craved her then, and with each passing interaction that we have, I fear I’m starting to crave her again, more and more.
I think about her when I go to bed; I think about her when I wake up; I think about her when I’m practicing, eating, showering, working on the house, and at this point, I’m pretty sure I’m thinking about her when I’m sleeping too.
At some point, if these interactions continue, I know that thinking will turn to wanting.
Fortunately, we only have three events left after this one. Any and all communication with her will be up to me, and I’m leaning toward none. I hate the ache that she causes, and even though it is ever present as always, I refuse to think about that now.
I can’t think about that now.
Today is our season home opener.
Today is the day I make my NFL debut.
The day all my professional statistics and games will be recorded in the official league history.
This is the moment that every hard minute over the past twenty years has led up to, and I’m ready.
All morning, my adrenaline has been firing, and aside from knowing Alice and I will be on the field together, I am pumped to get out there and show the Tarpons fans what I can do.
Being on the field, surrounded by cheering fans, facing opponents who want to win as bad as I do, I love it. I love every second of it.
But then again, that’s the competitor in me.
I’ve always had this inner drive to compete.
Challenges and goals organically ignite a fire in me that sends me into a hyper-focused mode.
Seeing others is how I measure progress, improve, and eventually outperform.
Don’t mistake me. I don’t compare. Comparison is the thief of joy.
Instead, I evaluate, sharpen my skills, and ultimately surpass those around me.
I never settle, which is how I’ve gotten to where I am today.
Yeah, today is definitely the day.
So during the warm-ups, when I hear my name being called and I look over to see Danica standing with Alice and King Silver, that fire that’s been racing through my veins comes to a screeching halt and feels doused with mud.
I’m staring at my past, while thoroughly embracing this moment and my future.
We had one home preseason game, and the other two were away. While I was able to ignore her once, it was a relief to know she wouldn’t be at the others. But here she is, standing in front of me, all dolled up for the game today, holding a pair of silver pom-poms, and looking absolutely beautiful.
I would never in a million years admit this to her, but damn, she takes my breath away.
Begrudgingly, I know what I have to do. I pull off my helmet as I make my way over to them. My hair is soaked, and I fling my head back to throw the wet hair away from my face. I grab the towel on my waist to wipe away any sweat.
All three of them are staring at me as I approach.
“Are you ready for today?” Danica asks.
“I am. I was born ready for this.”
I glance at Alice, but she doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me.
“Well, let’s go meet some fans, take some pictures, and I’ll get you back to your team.”
I glance over my shoulder at them, and a few are watching me walk away.
It’s then that I take in the stadium as it’s filling with fans.
Even though it feels like we’re parked next to the sun, the place is a three-sixty bowl of happiness and laughter.
There’s a sea of teal. Tarpon flags are posted at the top of the stadium and flying proudly, and there’s an enthusiastic energy that is palpable for what the season can bring.
It’s such an incredible vibe, right here at this moment. Even this little marketing assignment isn’t going to get me down.
We start walking toward the sideline fan section when Sully comes running over.
“Um, Rookie, you mind telling me where you’re going?” He’s mad, and his tone makes him sound like a giant dick. “Did you forget that we have a game we’re about to play?”
I level him with a look that would make others take a step back, and he returns that look in a challenge.
“I have to go over there and do a meet and greet with some fans.” I wave toward the end zone.
He steps closer to me. “What you have to do is get your ass back over there and do your job?”
At this, Danica rounds on him and breaks into his view. Sully’s face blanches, and he takes a step back.
“So you think players spending a few minutes with the fans isn’t part of their job?
” She props her hands on her hips and glares at him.
If this scene wasn’t so shocking, it would be funny.
No one glares at Sully. He is a captain, an all-American.
He’s been selected for the Pro Bowl five times, and, well, given his size, he’s kind of scary.
He leans down to get more on her level. “Not today, it’s not. Today his job is to be there”—he points behind him—“for his team and to get his head in the game that’s about to take place.”
She studies him for a moment, and it’s in those few seconds his facial expression softens a bit. It’s weird.
“Sorry. Not sorry. This was scheduled. You’ll have to take it up with Gretchen.”
“Scheduled?” He jerks to his full height.
“Yes, and you’re wasting all of our time. You both ready?” she asks us, looking back and forth between Alice and me. I know what I’m supposed to do, but I need approval from Sully. I look at him. He frowns, but then gives me a subtle nod.
“This isn’t over,” he tells me, and I let out a deep sigh. This is going to be what forces me to talk about the campaign with my teammates. Anxiety spirals through me, but I tamp it down. I don’t want to talk about her with them.
As we walk away, King Silver shoulder checks him. This time I can’t help the grin that takes over, and Sully rolls his eyes and storms off.
“You got lucky there, pal.” I pat him on the shoulder, and he wiggles his fake fur fish butt.
Together, we all make our way toward the end zone where there are roped-off sections for family members, media, and fans. Ross is waiting with the camera.
“Just so you know, this isn’t meant to pull you from your job. It will only take a few minutes, and Gretchen has these meet and greets scheduled for every home game. The two of you just happen to be up first.”
“Can you make Sully go second?” A small conspiratorial smile graces Alice’s face.
“Oh, trust me. If I can, I will. And I’ll take great pleasure in reminding him what all his job duties entail also.”
“I’m sure it’s mentioned in the handbook. That’s his bible. You could use it for ammo.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll definitely check it out,” she tells me as she makes her way to Ross, leaving Alice and me standing there. King Silver runs off. He’s doing his thing, and, well, I have this strange urge to talk to her.
“Are you excited for the game today?” I ask, not looking at her but testing the waters to see if she’s going to come out with fangs or not.
“I am. My parents are here.” She points toward the fifty-yard line and waves. A hand pops up and waves back. My stomach dives as I’m certain they see us standing together.
After we won the free tickets to today’s game, I decided to give my pair to Coach Ciao.
I’m not sure if he’s here today or not, but it seemed fitting since he’s the main one who helped me get here.
I also assumed our free tickets, hers and mine, would be next to each other, so I wanted to spare my mother the anxiety.
Instead, I got her a seat up in an air-conditioned box with Bryan’s wife.
Both seats are amazing. I just didn’t want there to be any awkwardness for either family. We all deserve to enjoy today.
“That’s great. And I’m not surprised. They were always at all your games.”
“They came to all my college games too. For four years on the weekends they made that drive.”
“You cheered all four years?” I think back to the last time I was at Florida, and she wasn’t there. My heart aches at the thought that she intentionally skipped that game because of me and how I behaved previously.
She looks at me curiously, her brown eyes popping from the shades of pink she has highlighting around them. “I did. I’ve always loved it. You know that.”
“I do.”
“All right, you two, let’s go.”
The entire meet and greet lasts about ten minutes.
As far as scheduled events go, this has been the least painful to date, and I’m grateful, as it’s on a day that is so important.
Every fan we met was elated. I took pictures with fans, she took pictures with fans, we took them together with fans, and just like at the jamboree, I watched her go into performance mode and shine.
I also watched too many people put their hands on her, but what could I say?
I subtly kept a close watch to make sure none of them got too grabby, but still.
The thought of her being disrespected twists me up inside. Friends or enemies.
As everyone disperses, I reach over and gently place my hand on her arm. “Hey.”
She freezes, looks at my hand, and then looks up at me.
I know people are watching us and taking our picture. Hell, our families are probably watching, and we probably shouldn’t be talking without the media team here, given all the handbook rules, but they’re the ones who put us in this situation, so they can get over it.
“Yeah?” She’s wary, and I can’t say that I blame her. Last time she tried to leave, I called her rude and upset her.
“We have that news appearance coming up. Do you want to, I don’t know, coordinate what we’re going to wear or something?”
Coordinate what we’re going to wear?
If I could and people wouldn’t question my own sanity, I would punch myself in the face. Could I have said anything stupider?
She looks off to the side as she ponders what I’ve asked. She frowns slightly and then her aloof mask slips back into place. At least it tries to, while she pulls her arm free from my grasp.
“Sure. But make sure you unblock me. Might make things a bit easier.” There’s a little bit of a bite to her words, but knowing her the way I used to, I can hear the hurt underneath.
Damn.
Unblock her. Right. While I have on social media, I haven’t yet on my phone. Given the campaign I should have, and I hate that I feel a little ashamed.
Also, did she try to reach out?
She must have.
Of course she would have.
But when? Recently or just in the past?
Obviously in the past. I left her high and dry without a word. Regardless of how I felt about her, I know she cared for me.
For the first time since that day four years ago, regret burrows its way under my skin.
And she would know that I blocked her because we both have iPhones and a blocked text never says delivered, or if she called, it only rings once and then disconnects.
“Right.”
Sadness blends with the mask, and she looks at the ground. Then it’s as if she remembers where she is and who might be watching. She lifts her head and smiles at me.
“Good luck today. I know you’re going to do great.”
My heart cracks.
Flashbacks to sitting in the back of my truck and us talking about our futures flip through. All the times Alice told me that no matter what, if she was cheering on the sidelines or sitting in the stands, that she would be here for my NFL debut. And here she is.
Even though we’re not in a good place, I do love that she’s here.
“You too.”