He leans his head back against my shoulder. “Sorry. I just didn’t?—”
“Why don’t we just listen to a song or two before we get into whatever it is?”
He turns his head and nods gratefully. We sit like this, me wrapped around him, and listen to music.
After listening to Yellowcard’s entire album, it’s dark outside, and we’ve missed the dinner window at the dining hall. Danny squeezes my hands once before he turns around, grabs me by the waist, and hoists me up onto his lap so I’m straddling him.
“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me everything.”
And he does.
He tells me Coach redshirted him for the whole season, essentially benching him for the year.
He tells me they don’t want him to get injured. That they want to give him time to develop, even though the team’s current starters aren’t performing well. Even though he’s workedso hardfor this. Even though theypromisedhim that he’d play this year,only to change their mind at the last second.
He tells me about the team’s lukewarm reaction to the news. He tells me about the delayed timing. How the lack of exposure may lead to a decline in eventual draft placement. How he mightnot be able to enter the draft in four years or graduate with me as we planned.
What he doesn’t tell me is how he’s feeling about any of it.
I respond with what I can, based on how little I know. “That sucks.” I push his thick, dark hair away from his face so I can see his expressions better, but he’s giving nothing away. “But it does sound like you should be flattered, from what you’re telling me Coach said. Staying injury free for as long as possible is always a good thing. Plus, redshirting means you may be at Easton an extra year. Maybe I can do one year of vet school in Columbus and extend my time on campus, too. I’ve been really liking it here. We can figure this out, as long as we’re together. Open and honest, right?”
He looks down and to the side. “Right.”
“Hey.” I grin, knowing just how to brighten his mood. “I have an animal fact for you. Did you know that octopuses have three?—”
“I’m not really in the mood,” he interrupts.
My whole body deflates. I know he’s hurting, but the swift rejection stings.
Danny yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “Listen, I’m getting tired. It’s been a long couple of days.”
“I’m happy to stay. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“And I love you for that, but look at me.” He gives me a surface-level smile, but I can tell it’s completely fake. “I’m overdue for a shower, and I should clean this place up before Cooper gets back. I also have some homework to finish if I want to get the assignments in on time. It wouldn’t be fun for you to stay, believe me.”
I let him get away with this obviously fabricated excuse for now. Soon, he’ll be ready to talk to me about his feelings. Soon, he’ll let me share the burden with him, as we’ve always done. I’ll let him have tonight, and then we’ll talk tomorrow.
“Okay. I love you,” I whisper, then I’m out the door.
Chapter 34
Danny
Eighteen Years Old
“You need to get it together, DT. The guys are starting to notice.”
Cooper Shields, the team’s best tight end, has been on me to shape up ever since my redshirt status was announced to the players a month ago. He hangs his headphones around his neck and crouches down to tie his shoes, about to leave for a gym session with some of our teammates.
“The guys should be focused on playing. Some of us don’t get that privilege,” I reply in monotone.
Coop rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at me from the couch. “This is what I’m talking about. Cut that ‘woe is me’ shit out. Being a crappy teammate and friend won’t magically get you playing time, believe it or not. Might as wellnotbe a douchebag.”
Two games have passed now, and I don’t even know if we won. I black out every time my spotless cleats hit the sidelines. I built my life around football—high school to college to pro—and I feel paralyzed thinking about a reality in which that dream crumbles.
“You’ve been ditching team hangouts, team workouts?—”
“Voluntaryteam workouts.”
