We have a team nutritionist and chef who often feeds us after practice. Brian would not approve of anything on this menu.
Our waitress arrives, and my gaze travels from her black pants to a pink tee, then to a white-and-blue striped apron, where a nametag clipped to her chest readsFRAN. Next toher name is a bright pink heart sticker. A tremor rises in my gut as my gaze travels up to full, rosy-pink lips—ones I can easily conjure the feel of.
My heart thumps nervously in my chest as if I’ve been on the field already running a mile—or ten. I drop my eyes and glare at Zev, when?—
“Eep! It’s you,” Fran squeaks, her hand hovering in front of those lips.
I look back her way, offering a guilty, closed-lipped grin. Only I’m not the guilty one here. Zev is.
“Hi there,” Zev says. He holds out a hand. “I’m Zev, Cal’s teammate and friend. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”
Fran’s long, dark lashes blink in rapid succession. “Um. Right. Hi.” She reaches for Zev’s hand and shakes it. “I’m Fran. How did you…” Her head wobbles, and her eyes return to me. “How did you find me?”
“I didn’t.” I quickly shake my head. I don’t need Rosalie’s cuckoo friend thinking I sought her out. “This is just ahappycoincidence.”
“Wow.” She exhales, and with the gust, she smacks her hand and pad of paper to her thighs. “That’s crazy.”
“So. Crazy,” I say, my eyes darting to Zev. I really dislike that word. The jury is still out on just how “crazy” Fran is.
She runs her fingers over her left ear as if to brush back her hair—but it’s a nervous gesture, with her hair already pulled back. “Did you want something to eat?” Another restless head shake. “I mean, of course you want something. That’s why you’re here. Why else would you be here?” Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, and she stares at me and only me. “What can I get you? You can have anything.”
If the wordcrazywasn’t still lingering in my thoughts, Imight be flattered—Zev is a good-looking guy, and she’s barely looked at the man.
“Anything at all,” she says with a smile, and with it, the wordcuckoofeels like a fading memory. She’s distracting me with her awkwardness, with her smile—it’s a nice smile. And she’s funny—even when she doesn’t mean to be.
“Anything I want?” I say, and I’m pleased when a deep pink creeps into her cheeks.
A nervous titter spills from Fran’s lips. “Did I say that?” She presses her lips together. “How about water? I’ll grab water while you look at the menu. You guys drink water, right?”
“Water would be great,” Zev tells her.
“Water.” Fran nods with the only word that’s currently filling up her vocabulary. Still, her smile is bright, like walking outside on a spring day or stepping onto a field after months of absence. She is mumbling about water, but her face is alight with pure joy.
“See?” Zev says once she’s gone. “Two minutes with that girl, and you’re already loosening up.”
I press both my palms onto the cool tabletop. “How, by the grace of Pelé, did you know she’d be here?”
Zev grins, so utterly pleased with himself. “I went back and talked to her friend, the cute teacher who yelled at you.”
We had to wait on Zev for a couple of minutes, but I thought he was talking to the principal. I never imagined he hunted down Fran’s friend in that little school.
“Rosalie? She actually gave you information?”
“Is that her name?”
“Zev!”
“Yeah, man. She told me,” he says.
“I am certain she wanted me to stay far away from her friend. I understood the warning signs. Threats, even.”
“Well, I explained things?—”
“Explained what, exactly?” What in the world did he say to change her mind?
“Cal, we need you focused—but not so focused that you’re constantly overthinking,” he says, skipping right over my question.
“You meanovershooting?” I made one goal in practice today and overshot the rest. I’m pretty sure the entire team, coaching staff, and trainers are wondering why I’m still around.
