“Did you draft the questions, Lemon?” I ask to distract myself.
“Right here.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her notebook and waves it in the air. We decided to do a mock interview. Her as the reporter and me, well, the sports star. How perfect. This project has A written all over it. I take the sheet from her and gloss over the questions. They are all pretty straightforward, nothing I haven’t answered before. Then my eyes suddenly land on the second-to-last question and stay glued there.
Do you have any regrets?
My throat actually closes. I’m not one to believe in regrets. You lose, you mess up, you move forward. It’s how you survive under the immense pressure. No living in the past. But as much as I walk around like Superman, I’m human just like everyone else, and I have weaknesses, too. I will always regret losing Laney. I will always regret not fighting harder to keep her. I will always regret that, in the end, football really was more important.
“These look good.” I hand her back the paper rigidly.
“Good.” She smiles at me. “I was going to try and get some studio time later this afternoon so we can record it. What do you think?”
I nod silently. “Sounds like a plan. I’m free.”
“Perfect.” She looks at me funny. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I plaster on a fake smile. I get to spend more time with you . . . as just . . .friends. . . .
Laney and I sit in the tiny studio setting up the microphones and recording equipment.
“How did anon-communications major book studio time last minute in the middle of the semester? You usually need to reserve it weeks in advance.”
Laney smiles cunningly. “I bribed Josh. It is amazing what a signed football from Kamdyn Ellis can do.” She opens her bag and pulls out a brand-new football.
“You didn’t?”
“I totally did.” She tosses me the ball. “He’s a huge fan. We had a class together last semester and all he did was gush about you.” She theatrically rolls her eyes. “I could have thrown up, but knowing how much he loves you worked in our favor. We didn’t have to wait weeks to record this interview. It’s one more thing I can cross off my to-do list.”
“You are devious, Lemon.”
“I know. He wants you to sign it to my one true love.”
I snort. “Like hell.”
Laney nearly falls over laughing. “To my biggest fan?”
I curl my lip. “Too cliché.”
“Fine then, just think of something before we leave.”
“Will do. Are we ready?” I straighten in my chair.
“We are.” Laney takes a seat next to me and adjusts the small microphone on the table in the recording room. As part of our final project, we needed to show we could not only conduct a broadcast or interview, but edit it, as well.
Laney starts the interview by introducing herself and me. Then she fires away.
What is your favorite thing about football? What does your workout schedule look like? How did it feel to lead your team to the conference championships and win your freshman year?
As I said, all questions I have answered a million times, and probably will answer a million more. But as she ticks off each one, my anxiety rises a little more because I know what’s coming. I know which question is going to test my composure.
“Mr. Ellis, do you have any regrets?” Laney looks dead into my eyes.
I inhale a few deep breaths before I answer. “Personally or professionally?”
Laney’s face falls as an air of silence blankets the room, suffocating it with tension. “Both,” she responds.
I never take my eyes off her as I answer. “I don’t have any professional regrets. Every triumph and failure has led me to where I am now. I just want to keep moving in the right direction. As for personal regrets? I think everyone has those. I lost someone I loved once, and I will always regret that,” I admit, as stone-faced as possible.
Laney just continues to stare; the tense silence becoming almost unbearable.
