“Routine helps,” I say flatly, mind racing: Keep it neutral. I catch Leo’s eye, and the tension coils tighter, both of us unwilling to expose the truth of our situation—like molten ice threatening to break.
Leo shrugs, the movement casual but laden with hidden weight. “We both sleep through alarms. That’s teamwork,” he deadpans, arms spreading wide like he owns the moment. Laughter flares from the reporters, lightening the atmosphere while sending my pulse into overdrive.
I fake a laugh, but inside I clench my jaw against the tension coiling in my chest, each moment spent sharing the limelight with Leo reminding me of the complexities lurking beneath our supposed partnership. With every quip and return volley, the chemistry dances dangerously close to an uncharted territory we’ve yet to navigate.
More questions follow, merging into a blur of chatter and competition as we struggle to keep our composure, both acutely aware of the tightening space between us. We trade barbs, but each feels heavier—an intricate tapestry of rivalry threaded through with undeniable attraction.
Eventually, the reporters begin to tire of us, moving on to other players, but Leo and I linger under the harsh glow of the LED panels, both pretending to check our phones while stealing looks with one another.
I look over at Leo again. As we rise simultaneously when the next press group arrives, the two of us move in lockstep yet keep as much distance between us as the narrow table allows, pretending the energy doesn’t pulse with electric intensity in every shared breath.
I walk away from the podium with my heart racing, knowing this story is far from over, and we have a long road ahead as both rivals and reluctant allies navigating the shifting tides of this strange bond between us.
Leo comes up next to me and whispers, “Nothing happened with those people last night. I watched a show, then came back to our room and went to bed.”
I stare at him in confusion. Why is he telling me this?
“I don’t care what you do,” I lie.
Leo chuckles. “That’s not what your face said last night,” he states, before walking away.
Chapter 7
Nash
As the sun sinks beneath the horizon, I lean back in my Jeep, the scent of sweat and ice still clinging to my skin from practice. We’ve been back home for two days, and I am still not over Leo’s antics. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to gather the fragments of my day into some semblance of clarity. The buzz of adrenaline has faded, but the tension in my chest remains—a tight knot of expectation and longing that I can’t shake off. With a determined breath, I reach for my phone, dialing the number I know by heart. My parents answer, their voices a comforting melody amid the chaos in my mind.
“Hey, Nash! How was practice?” My mom’s cheerful voice fills the car, a warm embrace through the phone.
“It was good,” I reply, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. “Same drills, you know how it is.” My heart pounds as I skirt around the thought of Leo, pushing it to the back of my mind where it feels safer—where it doesn’t sting with urgency.
“Good to hear! You’ve been training hard for this championship. We’re so proud of you,” she says, the pride swelling in her voice, igniting a flicker of warmth in my chest. It feels good, but it also feels heavy. Their pride comes with unspoken expectations, ones I’m struggling to meet.
“How’s the team shaping up?” my dad chimes in, his tone shifting from casual to curious. “Have you made any friends?”
I hesitate, feeling the weight of his question. Should I mention Leo? His bravado feels so foreign to my family, like an intricate puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit into the picture they see of my life. “Yeah, the guys are great. Lots of teamwork,” I say, my voice faltering slightly. I take a deep breath, trying to summon the conviction that everything is fine, even if inside I’m twisted up.
“That’s good. And what about that new guy, Leo? We’ve been hearing a lot about him from the news.” My mom’s question brings the knot back—he is more than a “new guy” to me, and I can’t help but feel a surge of anxiety at the thought of bringing him into our world.
“Um, he’s a solid player,” I say, the words slipping out too casually, like I’m trying to convince myself as much as them. “He just likes to joke around a lot. Keeps it interesting.” I dismiss it with a laugh, but there’s a hitch in my chest that makes my smile feel fragile.
“Oh, that’s good! Joking around is important; you need some fun amidst all the hard work!” my dad adds, unaware of the undercurrent lurking just beneath my surface. He always knows how to temper the seriousness of my passion with levity, but I’m uncertain if that’s enough to balance the weight I’m carrying.
“What else? Tell us more about Leo, dear. Is he treating you well?” My mom’s voice dips, a note of concern threading through her words.
“Yeah, we’re just…getting to know each other.” My words come out like a forced secret, a cover for the tangled mess brewing under my skin.
“Remember when you would practice in the backyard all summer? We knew you’d go far,” my dad reminisces. There’s affection woven through his words, nostalgia warming the atmosphere as my childhood memories flicker in my mind.
“Yeah, it feels like forever ago,” I respond, fighting the wave of longing that creeps in, pulling me back to simpler times. I wish I could take that carefree joy and bottle it, shield it from the weight of expectations and the tangled mess I find myself in now.
“We just want you to stay focused, son,” he says, and it comes out heavy with unspoken expectations. “Remember, it’s about the game, not just the accolades.”
“I know, I know,” I reply, swallowing the uncomfortable knot in my throat, my heart heavy with the reality of what lies ahead. “I’m keeping my head in the game.”
As the call comes to a close, the familiar warmth of their love washes over me, even as it sits in juxtaposition with the pressure I feel on my shoulders. “Thanks for checking in with us, Nash. We love you, you know that?” my mom says, her voice softening into that gentle lilt that makes my chest ache.
“I love you guys, too,” I say, sincerity rising as I hang up the phone, my heart feeling just a little lighter, even if the longing for acceptance lingers.
