Page 26 of Lavender and Linebackers

What game is he playing at now?

My eyes narrow as I run my finger over the condensation on the side. It’s so cold when it’s so hot out here.

“I changed my mind. Why do you care?”

“Just curious.” He shrugs one shoulder.

“Why?” I take a sip, and he watches me.

“No reason.”

“I drink coffee every day. It’s called consistency.”

“It’s called dependency.”

My jaw drops a little as I take him in. Yes, I can see that he treats his body like a temple, but coffee has a lot of health benefits.

“I see you’re not just an asshole, but you’re a judgmental asshole.”

“Are you two always like this?” Brian asks. He’s exasperated by us, and I hate that. I hate that I gave him reason to be, and I cling to my coffee so I don’t drop it.

“No,” we both answer at the same time. Apparently, he has some sort of shame or remorse coloring his cheeks too as his skin flushes red.

Forever the giveaway of his true emotions.

“Could have fooled me. Every time I’m around the two of you, the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. What gives?” he asks, and I suddenly get a pit in my stomach.

I say nothing, as this situation is entirely his fault. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who ghosted me. He’s the one who ended us.

He looks at me, and I stare blankly back at him.

“Nothing. We’ve just known each other for a long time,” Ryder grumbles.

“Yeah, well, I’ve known people for a long time too, and we aren’t as hostile toward each other as the two of you,” he says before being pulled into a conversation with the next family.

Is that what people think? That we’re hostile toward each other? I know we’re not besties anymore, but I didn’t think that things were perceptively that bad. I thought we did relatively okay at the other events.

I think back to my therapist and the many conversations we had after Ryder left. One of the coping skills she taught me was how to suppress my emotions until later. I know this seems like the opposite of what a therapist would tell their patient, but I needed to get back to living my life, and here’s what she told me: name, delay, shift, and move.

Name the emotion that I was feeling at that moment. Currently, I’m feeling overwhelmed with pressure to have to pretend to be cordial with him to make a good impression. Second, delay. I need to push this feeling aside. I can think about it later, while here in the moment, I need to focus on the task at hand. Focus on the families and representing the Tarpons. Third, shift. Shift my thoughts to what is directly in front of me and nothing else. I smile at the little girl leaning into her dad’s leg, and she smiles back. These people are here to see us. And last, move. I don’t need to sit in this chair. I can move around so that some of this emotional energy can be put to use. I stand, take a necklace to the little girl, and squat down in front of her.

“Hi, I’m Alice. What’s your name?”

“Breanna,” she whispers. Her mom has whipped her phone out to take pictures of us talking.

“Are you a cheerleader?”

“Yes, for the Raiders.”

“I’m a cheerleader too! For the Tarpons,” I say with a little overexaggeration. Her little smile is all I needed to pull me from my head and get going with the rest of this event. I love kids, and I love encouraging them to follow their dreams.

“Why don’t you come on over to the table with me, and we’ll take some more pictures together?” I hold out my hand to her, and she takes it.

That’s how the next two hours go. I do my best to stop thinking about Ryder and think about all the kids in front of us. I occasionally catch him glancing curiously at me, and well, he can do that. He can worry about himself, and I can worry about me. What I will not worry about is us. There is no us. Will I have to unsuppress my overwhelmed feelings later? Yes, but finishing this day strong makes it so much better. And fortunately for all of us, Ryder mimics me and works in tandem, side by side.

“What do you think the number one thing is that I need to make it to the NFL like you?” asks a young teenage boy from the last family in line.

Ryder’s face softens as he looks at the hopeful boy. “Heart. Think about it. Professional players are all different shapes and sizes. It’s their attitude, work ethic, and heart that drives them to success. I’m a linebacker, and I’m six foot three, but other linebackers in the league are five foot ten and eleven. You can be just about any size, as long as you have heart. Think about Tom Brady, one of the greatest there ever was. He says it’s relentless preparation, overcoming doubt, and a refusal to accept losing. Basically, work hard, be confident, and don’t quit. All this comes from the heart.” He pats his chest, and the boy does the same.