I shoved the device in my back pocket, committing my full attention to the here and now. And the here and now was Kyle Evans, one of the team’s medics, and the only guy who looked willing to humor my dad enough to say ‘hi’ to me.
“If you need any help, use her,” Dad was saying. “She’s bored and good at getting people to sit still.”
Kyle chuckled and offered me his hand. His sandy blond hair was cut short and the blue in his eyes reminded me of a clear, summer sky. He looked young; a few years older than college age. “Nice to meet you. I always welcome extra hands.”
“Thanks.” I accepted his outstretched hand for a shake. Once my dad was on his way to his office down the hall, I added in a low voice, “Don’t let him guilt you into asking for my help. I know you have assistants for that. He’s still holding onto the dream I’ll switch my major and become a doctor or something.”
Kyle’s eyes wrinkled in the corners, amused at my statement. “I feel you. My old man is still wondering when I’m going to start working at a “real hospital” and not for some state college. Medical school means nothing to him if I’m not a surgeon. What’s the disappointment you chose?”
I gestured to my camera bag on my shoulder. “Film.”
He whistled, looking like he approved. “I dropped out of art school. Appreciate the bravery. I got one semester in and lost my nerve.”
“Fingers-crossed I make it that far.” I sighed and found an empty seat in the room. The space was set up like an urgent clinic. White sheets covered the few rows of beds. There were medicine cabinets full of supplies shoved against the walls. At five in the morning, there weren’t any players occupying the space yet. I’d assume that’d change once the guys came in from the morning run dad sent them on.
I’d tagged along for the first day of practice because my Canon was mocking me from its perch. Football practice seemed like a low-pressure subject for me to film. It wouldn’t involve too much effort from me when the guys delivered on most of the action.
“Should I get out of your hair?” I asked, remembering that a lot of people didn’t like conversing this early in the morning. Being a morning person myself, I tried to remain aware that talking before people had their coffee and sunrise was often frowned upon. “I could hang out in the lounge.”
“No, no worries. Feel free to stick around.” He rummaged through his desk, pulling out manila folder after manila folder. “I could use the company. And who knows, maybe you’ll prove to be handier than my co-workers… who as you can see are habitually late.”
I relaxed a bit, glad I wasn’t unknowingly stepping on his toes. “Perfect. Then, feel free to put me to work.”
“Okay.” He smiled and pointed towards one of the cabinets. “Some of the travel kits need restocking. There’s one already full in case you need a reference. You think you could do that?”
“Definitely.”
I pushed out of my seat and hurried over to the kits. It felt good to be up this early in the morning and doing something productive. Just a few months ago, I started feeling like doing things outside of my usual brush teeth, eat food, watch YouTube routine. My break-up had been tough. Not only because of the obvious heart-aching realization that someone I thought I loved couldn’t care less about me. But because I didn’t remember the things I used to do when I was alone. I couldn’t list one thing I did outside of my friend group.
Filling duffel bags with first aid supplies was surprisingly relaxing. Kyle turned on a lo-fi playlist that made the room feel that much more zen. We worked for about a half-hour until a few players started trickling in. Dakota was amongst them, and his gaze almost immediately met mine. He said a few things to Kyle before starting towards me.
I smiled when Dakota took a spot on the bed closest to me. His hair was an unruly mess due to his run. He was still a little out of breath so there was a lot of air in his voice when he said, “Morning. Wasn’t expecting to see you here this early.”
“I like to tag along to practices.” I shrugged and gestured to his forehead. “Were you here to ask Kyle about changing that out?”
“Yeah… but figured since you’re here, maybe you wouldn’t mind?” He looked a little red in his cheeks. I chalked it up to his body trying to cool down.
“I don’t mind one bit,” I promised as I moved to disinfect my hands with a wet wipe.
Dakota tilted his head up when I came close. Once I removed the bandage, I got a good look at the injury before saying, “It’s almost healed. Few more days, and you’ll get to see what kind of scar it’ll leave behind.”
He chuckled at the wink I gave him. I tried not to take too long cleaning and re-bandaging his forehead.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to you last night,” he mused when my fingers tucked under his chin.
After we helped a limping Yara back to her car, a few of their other friends caught up with us. Once the group got to talking, I looked for a way out. I was out of practice in interjecting, and the night felt like it’d gone on long enough.
“Yeah, I went back to my car.” I shrugged and carefully aligned the band-aid across his skin. He tried to glance up at me, but I murmured, “Try not to move.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dakota said in a surprisingly respectful tone. I chewed on my lip, trying to not replay how ‘ma’am’ sounded in his deep tone, but it was impossible. I’m embarrassed to say how many times his response repeated in my mind.
He stayed quiet as I pressed the band-aid on him. I did my best to smooth out any air pockets before telling him, “You’re all set.”
“Thanks.” Instead of getting up and making his way towards practice like the rest of the guys, Dakota showed me his hand. “Got something for this?”
I frowned at the cut between his index and middle finger. “I’m starting to think you’re very clumsy.”
“I’ve been known to get into my fair share of scrapes.” He nodded and spread his fingers once I took his hand in mine. The cut was small enough for me to clean and wipe on a bit of Vaseline before wrapping it in a small band-aid.
