I was starting to think I wasn’t.
There was no reason to rush back to the dorms even if Keaton had been there, anyway. He was barely talking to me even when we were in the same space. The most he ever did was scoff at me for forgetting to bring yet another thing.
He was right. I was a dumbass. I hadn’t been prepared for this at all.
I walked in through the door of our room and threw myself down on the bed, sighing.
“Just get through practice tonight,” I told myself out loud. “Make the team. You’ll be okay.”
“Giving yourself a pep talk?”
I looked up and nearly shot out of the bed. Keaton was there. Standing in the doorway. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Don’t you have film class?” I asked, coming off more accusatory than I meant. I glanced at his schedule on the wall. I was sure I had read it right.
“Yeah, I’m just grabbing a book I forgot to pick up,” Keaton said. He turned back towards me. “I’m looking forward to the class. We’re getting our first project assignment today. It should be a lot of fun.”
“Right,” I nodded. Fun – in a class? Not in my experience.
“It’s okay, you know,” Keaton said. He was making his way towards the door. Leaving me on my own again.
“What is?”
“To give yourself a pep talk.” He paused in the doorway. “Your practice tonight – it’s an important one?”
I nodded once. “Decides who makes the team.”
Keaton frowned. “Don’t you get on automatically with your scholarship?”
I shook my head. “I’m on the team. Not guaranteed to be on the starting lineup.”
“Oh, right.” He tapped the doorframe as if thinking. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks,” I said, but he was already gone.
He was a good person. Too good. He shouldn’t have been wishing me luck. Not after what I did to him.
I knew I had made his life hell. Or even when I didn’t – I let other people do it.
He was so good he hadn’t even wanted to throw me off by reminding me about the room change. I was sure my days were numbered. The Dean must have got back to him by now.
I sat up on the bed, shoving my back against the wall and sighing.
I had to get my head out of this funk. If I stayed like this there was no way I was going to perform well at practice tonight. I’d seen Coach watching me last week and this weekend. He had a close eye on me. I didn’t know if that meant I was doing well or if he wanted to see improvements. Either way, he would be watching close again tonight. That meant I couldn’t make a single mistake.
I had to be fast. Powerful. Accurate.
I had to show him what I could do.
I scrubbed my hands against my face and got up. No more thinking about Keaton. No more thinking about how I would feel when the transfer came through and I never had another chance to make it up to him. No more thinking about how dumb I felt in class.
I was good at playing football. Maybe it was the only thing I was ever going to be good at.
Time to show them what I could do – and get my spot.
Keaton
I walked to my film class as fast as I could, knowing I was going to be late if I didn’t hustle. At times like this, I actually wished I was fitter. Like Olly. He probably didn’t have to worry about being late for class – if he needed to, he could just break into a jog and make it there without breaking a sweat.
