“You a timekeeper or something?” Kip asks.
“Partly. I’ll manage your schedules for the games and anything that has an effect on the team. I’ll ensure you have the things you need in order to just focus on the game. I don’t mind cooking or doing laundry, but I’m not gathering shit. Just ask, and I will when I have time. If you need it soon, do it yourself. If you’re shitty to me, I’ll fuck it up out of spite,” I say. “I am not your boss, but I have a lot of control when it comes to your day-to-day lives. Be nice to me, and I’ll return the favor.”
“How far does that extend?” Mateo asks, grinning.
“Not as far as you’d think.” I laugh.
“You and Hunter are going to be the death of me,” Ray says.
“They’re fine. It’s nothing I’m not used to,” I say. ”I’m going to go to the house and start on my stuff. Does anyone have any questions?”
“You still loyal to the Titans?” Elijah asks.
“I am friends with four of the first-line guys, but otherwise no,” I say. “I was fired after waking up from a medically induced coma, so we aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“For being attacked?” Conner asks.
“Yeah, basically. It’s a long and complicated story,” I say.
“You go on,” Ray says. “They have practice tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.” I smile. “Nice to meet you guys.”
“Want me to come help with boxes?” Ray asks.
“No, I’m okay,” I lie. A few of them are already questioning if I can even do this job, so the last thing I want is to feed into that by not being able to carry a few boxes into the house.
By the time I navigate the GPS and get to the house, I already have a headache. I need to eat and relax. I’ve done way too much today. Instead of handling the boxes later, I grab one and go up to the house. I locate my room upstairs at the end of the hallway, past everyone else’s bedroom. One by one, I carry the boxes in. When I get to the last one, I’m nearly in tears from the pain.
“Hey, roommate,” Kip says. I flinch hard when he touches my shoulder, making him recoil with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
“It’s okay. It’s not you,” I say.
“Need help?” he asks, taking the box out of my hands. Everyone is hollering and being loud when we get into the house, only feeding my migraine. The lights are so fucking bright, and I just need things to be quiet.
I slowly follow Kip up the stairs. When we get to my room, he sets the box down and cocks his head at me. “You aren’t okay,” he says.
“The brain injury left me with a few lingering symptoms. I get pretty bad migraines when I overexert myself. I’ve been going nonstop all day today, so I’m just getting a bit of a headache,” I say, downplaying it a lot.
“Anything I can do?” he asks.
“Uh… if you could get them to be a bit quieter, that would be really helpful,” I admit.
“I got you.” He grins. “This is a lot of shit. Do you need help sorting?”
“No, I…”
“That wasn’t really a question,” he remarks. “I’ll be back.”
“Really, I’m good,” I say.
“Really, I’m going to help anyway. Admittedly, it’s because I want to ask you inappropriate questions about what happened,” he admits. “You seem to be forthcoming with it.”
“I am.” I laugh.
“You change and get comfy. I’m going to make the others help.”
“Elijah and Jovian don’t seem to like me,” I remark.
