Chapter 9 Griffin
Griffin
Griffin flew down to Florida the day after the gala to play the Stingrays that Sunday.
He got to see one of his college teammates who is now the quarterback for the Stingrays, and to make it even sweeter, the Wardens took the win.
Their record so far is strong, and Griffin and his teammates are hopeful they’ll make the playoffs.
It might be unlikely for this year, but that doesn’t mean they’ll take their sights off the goal.
On Tuesday the following week, Griffin attends practice, which includes weight training, mapping out plays, and reviewing film once more from the previous Sunday.
Griffin practically lives in the weight room, so that part of the day comes easy.
He eventually makes it to the film room where the lights are dimmed and the screen is lit up with clips of the game.
“What’s up, guys?” Griffin calls out in greeting to the other offensive players already seated, and a sea of greetings are murmured in reply.
All of the players sip their drinks as the play coach kicks off the meeting by reviewing the tasks at hand.
“We saw some great work from y’all last week against the Stingrays. They have a strong defense, but it didn’t stop you. There were also spots we can improve on for next week.”
Coach begins reviewing plays one at a time, and the first few don’t include Griffin. His mind wanders.
In all honesty, his mind has wandered on several occasions since last week, and every time, it wanders to Aria.
Every time he sees the scarf she accidentally left behind in his car now sitting on his coffee table at home.
He replays their evening at that glitzy old Chicago hotel, Aria being the glitziest thing in attendance.
She was stunning, as always, but he can’t shake the feeling of her pulling him out of his comfort zone again, helping him through the fundraiser, and her utter confidence in his ability to navigate it.
Despite all that, the car ride was even better.
Should he feel bad that he was sort of glad her driver got sick?
The sparks he’d felt sitting beside her were almost embarrassing.
A big, tough guy like him letting his little crush take the wheel like he was an awkward teenager.
He wondered for a moment whether Aria had felt the same thing pass between them, but as quickly as he considered it, he dismissed the thought.
Aria is busy with far more important things than entertaining his crush.
Still, his heart jumped a little when he got Mike’s email yesterday about an appearance on a late-night talk show for the pair of them next week.
His first instinct was to feel excited at the prospect of teaming up with Aria again, but then he realized he would be filming an actual segment for a talk show.
Whatever happened to this being easy like Mike promised?
“Griff, you with us?” Coach said.
“Yes, sir.”
Griffin’s eyes dart around the screen, and eventually he orients himself to the film. It was a moment he made a catch but was pushed out-of-bounds before he could plant his feet from the jump. Griffin takes feedback from the coach and remains focused for the rest of the session.
Once he’s back on the road heading toward his condo, he dials Mike on the hands-free system in his car. Mike picks up on the second ring.
“My favorite client. How you doing?”
“Good, good. Just leaving practice now, and I wanted to follow up on The Late Night Show invite.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?”
Griffin reaches up and squeezes his chin. “In some ways. It’s definitely not my forte, all this being onstage in front of people. Weren’t we going more for photo ops?”
“The two of you were incredible at the gala. Another viral moment. Well, almost viral. The fans loved it. You’ve been dubbed ‘best friends’ just like we wanted.”
“She’s fun, that’s for sure. And I didn’t call to try to get out of the gig.”
“Okay, well, how can I help?”
“So, both times we’ve gone onstage together, she’s led the way, totally guided me through it so I don’t look like a clown—”
“The fans love that part too. Some of them say you’re her protégé. Did you see that clip from the Hot Girls podcast where they were speculating about whether you’re trying to get into the music industry?”
Griffin squeezes his temples with his free hand. “I didn’t, and it’s probably for the best. None of them want to hear me sing. I can promise that.”
Mike laughs. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you stray down that path. You might be built for direct hits, but you’re not built for that.”
Griffin pulls in a breath. “I wanted to see if you could connect me with Aria. Either get her phone number or give her mine? She left a scarf behind after the gala, and I'd like to get it back to her.”
“I’m sure that’d be fine. And probably a good plan. I’ll also make sure you get the talking points ASAP.”
“Plus, she can help me prep for the show. I don’t want to be thinking about it all week.” Griffin’s statement is true, but it’s not his only motivation for getting her phone number. He’d genuinely like to talk to her before next week.
“You’re right. We both agreed this would not get in the way of the game or your training. The last thing we want is for you to fumble a catch because you’re worried about doing a bit on The Late Night Show.”
“Precisely.”
“All right, man. I’ll talk to her people and get back to you.”
“Thanks. Take care.”
Griffin hits the button to disconnect, and he can’t help but notice the lightness that’s filled his chest. Maybe it’s the release of tension over the talk show appearance, knowing that he’ll be able to talk it through with Aria before.
They can practice before they go on. Do guests typically do that? His guess is most likely not.
When he thinks about flopping on national television, a wave of nerves hit him again. He reminds himself that he does a version of this every weekend during the season. With football, he gets lost in the game, consumed by it so much that the rest melts away.
Perhaps it’s not entirely different from the way it feels to stand beside Aria on a stage, the rest fading into the background as she pulls him into the bright light that surrounds her, the one that emanates from her.
Stop, he tells himself.
He’s doing the crush thing again.
Griffin’s phone dings with a notification in the cup holder, and at the next light, he lifts it to check.
Mike: Here’s Aria’s number. She says text her whenever.
Griffin smiles the whole drive home.