“I should go make sure Douglas isn’t stealing money out of my wallet,” Taylor said, sounding just as guarded as he was on the day of their first practice together. “I hope you feel better, Armstrong.”
Fletcher nodded and tried to smile, but it probably looked fake. Taylor had always been able to tell when his smiles weren’t real. It really bothered him how easily Taylor was able to get under his skin.
9
The Florida Game
The team checked into the hotel and received room assignments. He and Taylor had been roommates for the past couple of away games. Fletcher thought he was a pretty good roommate.
Something weird about Fletcher was that he was kind of a clean freak. He hated the idea of touching his bed with “outside” clothes. Especially after a night out. He would return to his room and immediately take his shoes off. Then he would take a shower and put his outside clothes into a separate laundry bag he always packed.
Taylor never gave him a hard time for it the way his old teammates did. They would say Fletcher Armstrong was, without a doubt, a clean freak. God forbid a man wants to sleep in a clean bed. And don’t even get him started on the cleanliness of the actual hotel rooms…
Fletcher had been to this hotel too many times to count. It had a restaurant on the first level that was one of his mom’sfavorites. Coach had mentioned something to Fletcher earlier about meeting up with his mom for dinner, but he wasn’t sure if it was a no-pressure kind of invitation or a “I’m your coach and I’m telling you that you need to get your ass to dinner” kind of invitation. It was probably the latter.
They dropped their bags off in their rooms. Taylor insisted he had the bed closest to the window, which was completely fine with Fletcher except for the fact that Taylor would have to walk past Fletcher’s bed wearing outside clothes to reach his own bed. Maybe it bothered him a little bit.
Fletcher stepped out onto their balcony, feeling the warmth of the Florida sun on his skin. Taylor joined him.
“Scootch over. I wanna come out, too.”
The balcony wasn’t that big. Fletcher shifted down a bit, so Taylor had enough room to step fully outside. Neither of them spoke for a solid minute. They just stood there, looking out to downtown Jacksonville.
“Are you going to meet with your parents?” Taylor asked Fletcher.
“I have to. Coach went to college with my mom. She’s meeting her for dinner at the restaurant downstairs. Coach all but said I needed to come, so I guess I’m just going to have to suck it up.”
“Just your mom? Or both parents?”
“My mom for sure, obviously. Maybe Dad, but I don’t know. I would rather go in blind.”
“That might be for the best. We should always rely on our natural survival instincts.”
Fletcher snorted. “You’re so weird. But I guess you’re right.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” He offered. “I think I could take him. He’s pretty old so it might not be a fair fight but…”
“You don’t have to try and cheer me up.” Fletcher told him. It sounded a little too harsh as he said it. “I just need to rip theBand-Aid off and get it over with.”
Taylor silently leaned over the balcony and did a quick scan of the area. “How far’s the beach from here?”
“Like forty minutes. I don’t think we’ll make it out there, bud,” Fletcher told him.
Taylor turned to look at him. “Are you kidding me? I literally packed my bikini for no reason.” He pretended to be upset, which admittedly helped to cheer Fletcher up a bit.
“You can come visit in the summer. The water should be warm enough for you to swim in it by then.”
“Forusto swim in,” he corrected, putting a finger up in the air.
“Not a chance,” Fletcher chuckled. “I only swim in water clear enough to see my feet.”
“Then we’ll just go to Miami. We can stay withAbuela Sánchez.”
“Should we tell Sánchez to start packing his bags?”
Taylor squinted his eyes and pretended to ponder before shaking his head. “No. Just us.”
* * *
