Chapter 50 Riggs
FIFTY
RIGGS
Wiping the sweat from my face using my T-shirt does nothing for me as I realize it’s dripping as well.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in the gym, but a quick look at the clock tells me it’s close to nine o’clock.
Practice ended at six o’clock, so I’ve spent the past three hours shooting.
No wonder my arms are shaking, and my legs feel like they’re going to give out at any moment.
I know I can’t keep practicing this hard, but I’m not sure what else to do. The only time I feel like myself is when I’m on the court.
The double doors creak in the distance, and I’m reminded of the last time that happened to me when I was shooting. I turn quickly, hoping it’s her, that maybe she came back to me even though I told her not to. But it’s not Reagan. It’s Theo Williams.
“Hart. What on earth are you doing in the gym this late?” Never one to mince words, he says what’s on his mind and narrows his eyes at me.
“Just wanted to get a few more shots up, man. I’m good.” Even I don’t believe the lie that came out of my mouth.
“That right?” He doesn’t say much, ever. But Theo Williams has a presence that intimidates.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why don’t you go change, and we’ll hit Cook Out really quick.” His words remind me that my stomach is below empty, so I agree.
About thirty minutes later, I’m sitting in my apartment across the couch from Theo Williams while we both eat dinner. It’s weird, but strangely not uncomfortable.
“How’s your mom doing?” he asks between bites.
“She’s doing better. Thanks. I’m staying at my place again, and she’s got some friends and a therapist helping her out.” He nods, like he understands.
“Listen, man, I’m all for hanging out, but you never do, and I don’t think you’ve ever spoken this many words to me. What’s up?” He smiles. I’ve known Theo for months, and this is the first smile I’ve seen on his face.
“Straight to it, I guess,” he says. I don’t respond, hoping he’ll fill me in.
“I haven’t told any of the guys this, so it stays between us, for now.” I nod, agreeing to his terms.
“My best friend in high school was a year older than me. Shane played quarterback for our school, and the man had an arm like a cannon. He was fielding offers from schools when he was a sophomore, and I was a freshman. He was that good.
“His senior year, he was coming home from practice during a storm. His car hydroplaned and went straight into a tree, killing him on impact.”
Shocked, I say the only thing I can think of, which also happens to be the thing that I hate to hear people say. “I’m so sorry, man. No, I mean, I am sorry, but I hate when people tell me that, so I’m sure you do too.”
“I used to. I hated people talking to me about him at all.” He looks at me with understanding.
“When he died, I shut everyone out. I wouldn’t say his name. I couldn’t. It messed me up so bad. I even pushed away the one other person who was going through it worse than me. His sister, Lindsey.”
Realization hits. “Dance Team Lindsey?”
He laughs at that. “Yeah, man. But she’s not Dance Team Lindsey to me.
She’s Shane’s little sister, who happened to be my other best friend.
The three of us did everything together.
When he died, I ghosted her. I shut her out of my life for over a year.
She did everything she could to be there for me, but I wouldn’t let her. That is my biggest regret.
“I put everything I had into basketball. I was decent as a junior, but it was my senior year that got me noticed by CTU and other schools. I didn’t allow a single thing into my life other than hoops and school.”
I’m picking up what he’s putting down. He knows I’m pushing everyone away, even Reagan. The guys would have to know by now, given how we have avoided each other like the plague.
“What happened after senior year?” I ask.
“We were all down in Myrtle Beach for senior week, having fun, partying a little.
One night, she got wasted. She never drinks, so I knew something was up.
Somebody put something in her drink, trying to drug her.
Luckily, one of my teammates called me, and I was able to get to her before anything happened.
But I promised myself right then that I would never shut her out again.
“The following morning, she was shocked to see me in her room. I told her what had happened, and she lost it. We both did, honestly. It took a long time for us to sort through the mess I made of our friendship, but we made it back.
“I know what you’re doing right now. I’ve been there. Don’t let too much time go by before you reach out to Reagan. I may not say much, but I see a lot. I’ve never seen Rea look at anyone the way she looks at you, and you look at her the same way. Learn from my mistake, don’t repeat it.”
It takes a minute to process all that Williams just shared with me.
“You’re telling me that no one else knows about this?” I think the guys would lay off if they knew the whole story.
“I think Lindsey has told Reagan some of it, but it’s not really a story I feel like needs to be public knowledge.
I’ve always kept my private life private.
But you needed to hear it. The team, we’re worried about you.
You’re going to injure yourself if you continue to overdo it in the gym.
We need you, but healthy. That means physically and mentally. ”
His words hit the target he intended. I know I’m not coping well, but I also don’t know how to change what I’m doing.
“What do I do?” I ask, my voice breaking a little. I don’t do the vulnerable thing with many people, but Williams, of all people, knows what it’s like to grieve a huge loss.
“Lean on your teammates. Talk to the coach. Let Reagan in. Focus on the ball, but don’t let it take over your life. Maybe talk to a professional. It helped me.” He’s honest, and I needed to hear it.
“Thank you. I know you don’t say a lot, but when you do, it’s powerful. The team needs your silent leadership, but having you vocalize it would be incredible too.”
He takes in what I’ve said with a curt nod, and he stands. Then he puts his hand on my shoulder.
“I think between you and Mills, we have all we need this year. But I’ll step up when it’s my time. I’m gonna head out, but if you need someone who gets it, I’m here for you, man.”
“Thanks, Williams.” That’s all I get out before he walks out the door.
Sitting back down on my couch, I rub my hands down my face, trying to process the past few hours.
I can’t do this alone anymore. I don’t want to.