Page 163 of Hometown Halftime

But she’s never there.

Now, the university gym buzzes around me with the usual offseason noise while I sit on one of the benches, toweling sweat from my face after another brutal round of deadlifts. Music pounds through the overhead speakers while plates slam against racks across the room, and over near the squat stations somebody nearly drops a dumbbell on their own foot before getting absolutely roasted for it by the rest of the team.

Normal gym shit.

At least it should feel normal. Instead, everything still feels slightly off, like I left part of myself back in Cedar Falls and my body still hasn’t figured out how to function without it. My apartment near campus doesn’t feel like home either. It’s just a place I sleep between workouts and classes while my real life keeps replaying in my head four hours away.

I grab my phone to switch playlists before starting my next set, but the second the screen lights up, my thumb freezes over my camera roll.

Kinsey.

There are so many pictures of her.

Kinsey asleep in my hoodie with her face buried in my pillow. The time she flipped me off after I beat her at Monopoly. Kinsey laughing so hard at Gordy’s one night she nearly tipped sideways out of her chair while Lee choked on his beer in the background. There’s even a blurry picture Emma took of Kinsey and me standing side by side that she took with Mom’s phone during a game.

There’s the picture of me holding Kinsey in the middle of the field while snow drifted around us and the team celebrated in the background.

I zoom in on the picture, and Kinsey’s smiling at me in that completely unguarded way she only gets when she forgets people are watching her, and I remember exactly how she felt in my arms that day. Warm despite the cold weather.

Like I was part of her future instead of someone already halfway out the door.

There's also a more recent photo that I saved. Haddie Carmichael posted it a couple of weeks ago on the Cedar Falls Facebook page after Brynn, Kate, and Kinsey organized a drive for the food bank. Kinsey stands between them in front of a mountain of donated groceries, bundled into a knit hat and oversized sweatshirt, while all three women grin at the camera. I stare at the picture longer than I should. For a second it feels like I'm peeking into a life that kept moving after I left. I zoom in before I can stop myself.

God, I miss her.

Something inside me twists hard enough that I lock my phone before I completely lose my mind in the middle of the weight room.

“Weston!”

I blink hard and glance up to find Coach standing near the doorway to his office watching me with crossed arms.

“Are you planning on lifting today or staring at your phone until graduation?”

I shove the phone into my pocket. “A little bit of both.”

Coach snorts. “Office. Now.”

Fuck.

I grab my water bottle and follow him across the gym floor while my stomach knots tighter with every step. Coach shuts the office door behind us before dropping into the chair behind his desk. Then he gestures toward the seat opposite him. I sit slowly.

“Are you nervous?” he asks.

“Yes,” I admit.

“Good instincts.”

A short laugh escapes me. “That’s comforting.”

A grin tugs at Coach’s mouth before his expression settles into something more serious.

“You should know the scouts responded really well after your last round of interviews,” he says casually. “Most projections have you climbing back into the top fifteen now.”

Coach reaches into one of the folders stacked on his desk and slides a packet across the wood toward me. I stare down at the front page.

Combine Invitation

Coach leans back in his chair, watching my reaction carefully while I pick up the papers with hands that don’t feel completely steady anymore. Inside is everything—official schedules, testing information, interview times. Dates and locations printed in clean black lettering that somehow make all of this feel terrifyingly real.