CHAPTER 1
BURTON
Some days are better than others, and this one, well, it didn’t go my way.
Every move I tried to pull during my box lacrosse game seemed like I was moving through Jell-O, but that was mild compared to my serving shift at Vincenzo’s Italian restaurant. I bumped into Joe while he was holding an entire tray of drinks, which spilled all over a table of customers.
I still feel horrible about it. No one wants to come in for a nice meal and get a sticky shower.
I blow out a breath as I take off my black shirt, setting it on the bathroom countertop. The five o’clock shadow is more like a nine o’clock beard, so I pick up my razor and start shaving.I’m hoping this and a shower will leech all the memories from my mind.
I hate not playing my best or serving my best, because then I question everything.
I’m a twenty-eight-year-old who plays professional lacrosse, but I have to supplement what I make from that with the tips I get from being a server. I share a house with three of my field lacrosse teammates and drive an old, rusty truck that’s been with me since I got my license.
Putting that all on paper makes me wonder. Should I quit playing lacrosse and get an actual job?
I shudder even to think that. There’s a number two at the beginning of my age, which means I can still play. Sure, some of the young guns are faster, but I’ve got experience on my side. I hope that’s enough for the upcoming outdoor season.
Then again, between playing for the Salt Lake Lancers Lacrosse Club and the RoughRiders box lacrosse team, serving at Vincenzo’s allows me the freedom to do what I want and still live a decent life. I’ve been saving up for a while now, and maybe in the next five years I’ll be able to own a home. That is if the interest rates don’t keep skyrocketing.
Maybe it’s just my dad’s words coming back to haunt me. He’s always wanted me to be an accountant like him to “take over the family business.”
I would rather die.
Okay, yeah, that’s extreme, but I need people in my life, not spreadsheets.
“We’re getting ready to play a board game, Burton,” my roommate Stack calls through the closed door. “You in?”
I love board games, especially ones that involve more than a casual roll of the dice. The strategy and suspense of games like Catan, with the extensions, Risk, and Talisman gives me a smaller dose of adrenaline compared to when I’m out on the field.
I’m not sure I’m up to my full mental potential right now.
“I might come and watch you in a few, but I need to take a shower.”
Yep, in my free time I enjoy playing board games and listening to songs about love. Not because I want to be in love, because there’s a lot of commitment that comes from something like that. They just have a way of helping me relax. Tell me Whitney Houston and Celine Dion don’t make you feel invincible. I can belt them in my off-key bass and feel like anything is possible.
“Okay, well, good luck in there. I’m excited to hear your rendition of ‘It’s in His Kiss.’”
If I were in any other mood, I would’ve opened the door and knocked out his front teeth, but I’m too tired for that.
I shower and get dressed, my movements slow.My stomach growls, but I just ate a whole plate of fettuccine at the restaurant two hours ago. Maybe I should curl up and sleep the night away.
Instead, I walk out and grab a bowl of cereal and a protein shake. I sit at the far end of the table, away from the board game. Since most of them are mine, I don’t want to get them sticky, which is why there are some serious rules when using these games.
“Am I able to build a road when it’s not my turn?” Jackson asks. He’s the youngest on the Lancers, and while he’s got some amazing stick skills, I don’t think his brain is always firing on all cylinders.
I shake my head, chewing the marshmallows in the cereal and swallowing. “It has to be on your turn. And you can’t negotiate unless it’s your turn or someone is negotiating with you and it’s their turn.” I’ve explained the rules of Catan at least ten times to him, but we have a lot of the same conversations every time we play.
Jackson nods, his eyes wide, as if this is the first time he’s heard this information. Maybe I need to add some lacrosse analogies in there to make it sink in for him.
I glance at the board and shake my head. Finny is going to kill Stack and Jackson. He’s lined up his houses and roads near all the brick and log cards, which means the other two will have to barter with him to buildanything. It’s probably good I didn’t join the game this time.
“Where’s Clark?” I ask. He’s the captain of our team, our landlord, and one of my best friends since I moved to Utah three years ago. I haven’t seen him in a few days, but that could be because his fiancée lives across the road and I’ve been working like crazy.
“Is he with Jessa?” Jackson asks.
Stack holds up his phone. “He sent a message in the roommate chat a while ago. His plane got delayed, but he should get in soon.”
