I shift my foot off the ball, nudging it a few inches away.
“Making shots is not what I need to practice,” I tell Nicole as she stops beside me. I look back at the empty field. Exhale. I’m restless, anxious to test my shoulder. Just because it doesn’t hurt and can perform normal functions, that doesn’t mean I’m recovered. “This is the longest stretch I have gone without playing since I was six.”
“A few months off isn’t going to matter then. Sounds like you were due for a vacation.”
I muster a smile, appreciating her attempt to cheer me up. “Probably.”
“There’s talk of a Siege trip to see you play,” Nicole tells me. “The team wants a chance to critique you from the sidelines for once.”
I smile. A real one this time. “You should come. That would be fun.”
A pause.
“Are you going to tell her before you leave?”
“Tell who what?”
“Tell Claire how you feel about her.”
I still, head twisting slowly to stare at Nicole. Clear my throat before asking, “Am I that obvious?”
She shakes her head. “No. You’re not obvious at all. It was a guess. Most times I look at you, you’re staring at her.”
I scratch my jaw. “I did not mean?—”
“Don’t, Otto. You don’t owe me any explanations. It’s none of my business.”
“We have history,” I say awkwardly. “It is not…recent.”
I’m straddling an awkward line, trying not to break my promise to Claire by disclosing details, but wanting Nicole to understand this was nothing new.
“You mean, I never had a shot.” A wry smile curves her lips.
“I do not think anyone has since I met her,” I admit for the first time, realizing I’ve known that for a lot longer.
“Does Claire know that?”
“She has an idea. It is…complicated. I—my life has looked very different these past months than it does normally.”
Nicole nods. “Well, I hope it works out.”
“Thanks, Nicole.”
“See you tomorrow,” she tells me, then heads for the path that leads up to the practice facility.
I take a seat on one of the metal benches, pulling my phone out of my pocket, pressing a name, and listening to it ring.
“Hallo?” My grandfather’s gruff voice answers a few seconds later.
“It’s me, Otto.”
I don’t think his phone has caller ID, and I’m not sure he can recognize my voice from two words. It’s not like we talk very often.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. I just—I wanted to let you know that I booked my flight back. I’ll be in Kluvberg on Tuesday. I’ll have a couple of meetings and doctor’s appointments, but I was thinking I’d visit Tannfeld once I do.”
“No surprise visit this time?”
