CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HEATH
"Get ready for knee-highs!" I holler across the practice field. "I want to see knees to chests, boys! Don't cheat it! You'll only be cheating yourself and make practice suck more!"
I clap my hands and watch rows of young boys break into a semi-uniformed movement. They range from seven to thirteen years old, and it's like looking at a time machine. It doesn't feel like that long ago I was doing the exact same thing, standing in the same place, doing the same exercises, listening to the older, wiser college boys sculpt our workouts.
Some of the guys dread these camps but I love them. Seeing where I came from, how far I've come with hard work and sweat and a fuckload of late nights is cathartic. Now, it comes with the added bonus of distracting me from the shitstorm that is my personal life.
You know, that thing I vowed would never become a shitstorm to begin with.
Clark runs along the back line, yelling at a few of the kids to get their knees up higher. He pays extra attention to the kids who don't look like they have much, ratty t-shirts and store brand shoes, because he knows football can be their ticket to college when they'd otherwise be stuck at home to work in shops or farms.
There's a place for that, but we both know what it's like to have bigger dreams. Dreams that involve waving goodbye to all our friends and our cowboy boots. I might keep the boots, though. Girls seem to love them, like they are some sort of sex trinket instead of hundreds of dollars’ worth of solid work leather. But hey, if these boots that have clomped around in the mud and pig shit make me look hotter than some douche in an expensive suit, I'll gladly parade them around.
After two more sets, we call break and herd the boys to the Gatorade coolers, where Sealy is handing out cups and wet towels.
"Just because the temperatures are no longer in the high 90s doesn't mean you can't get heat stroke!" She warns.
"Nerd." I tease. "Football makes boys tough. We don't need to worry about heat stroke."
She makes the same face she's made every day she's seen me since Leigh tore my ass up two weeks ago. It's not exactly friendly but she still talks to me. Won't tell me a goddamn thing about Leigh, though.
"I'll be sure to remember you said that when the trainers have to rescue these poor boys from your prison workouts." Sealy rolls her eyes. The snark evaporates the moment Clark jogs over to kiss her hello.
It's only been a handful of months, but I swear they are practically married at this point. It's nauseating to watch until my brain reminds me that could have been me. A newer, stranger emotion takes over and I don’t like it.
"Do these kids get younger every year or are we just getting older?" Clark sprays his head with a water bottle, something Sealy makes sure to loudly point out.
"We're turning into ancient mother fuckers." I shrug. "It's all downhill after 21."
"You know, the average life span of people living in first world countries these days is—"
"Sealy. I'm sure Clark loves all your nerdy random facts, but living until I'm 70 doesn't change the fact that we're getting old."
“You can get older, then. I'm going to be young forever."
"Good luck with that."
"Don't need luck." She turns syrupy in Clark's arms. "I've got love."
"Pardon me while I throw up my Gatorade."
Clark grins at me. "Sounds like you've got symptoms of heat stroke."
"Or heartache." Sealy chimes in.
"All right. I'm going back to practice." I throw my paper cup at the trash can, but it bounces off the rim and lands in the grass. I groan. "See, that's why I play football."
"You missed it because I'm right and you are miserable and lonely." Sealy needles at me. "Go back to your practice, Heath. It's all you'll ever have in life, so be sure to cultivate it well."
"Aw, cut the guy some slack." Clark kisses her nose. "He's going to be old, rich, and lonely one day."
"So miserly." She sighs loudly. "He could have been so happy."
"We had an arrangement, remember?" I should walk away. I should stop giving a shit. But this is the first time she's ever said something about what happened to Leigh and me, and I'm desperate to hear how she's doing.
For weeks, I've told myself it doesn't matter and that everything is better this way, and for two weeks I've had to watch Sealy and Clark slowly turn into one person, a painting of everything I could have had.
Not even the decline of Jerzyk has helped take the edge off. My jack-off sessions have become depressing montages of Leigh in various state of dress, always smiling or rolling her eyes at me. Always pushing me to be a better person, a better student, even a better ball player.
"Heath." Sealy snaps her fingers in my face. "Don't zone out while I'm lecturing you."
"I don't need a lecture. This was what we agreed on, okay? She wanted it just as much as I did."
"You both suck so bad. Clark, go make those boys run laps or whatever you have them do. I need to drop a few truth bombs on your boy here."
"My pleasure." Clark claps me on the shoulder. "Listen to my nerd, man. She's brilliant."
I frown. "Is she okay?"
"I'm not talking about her, I'm talking about you." She presses a finger into my chest. "You can't keep acting like staying away from someone who makes you feel good is going to keep you from getting hurt late in life. Everything has a risk, Heath. My ass could explode in space. That doesn't mean I'm going to avoid a relationship for the rest of my life."
"You don't know what I've seen." I struggle to keep my breathing flat, placid. "Bad things can happen. It's better this way."
"Bullshit. Quit lying to yourself and quit lying to her. The entire freaking campus can see how you two fought to keep things genial, when all you wanted to do was make out all over the damn place."
"I wouldn't want to steal the thunder from you and Clark."
"Don't try to act cute to get out of this." She snaps. "Leigh is my best friend and the most kickass girl you could ever meet. You two both have these weirdass issues about relationships, but you were both willing to put that shit aside to be together whenever you were drunk enough to forget you weren't supposed to be there in the first place. She's worth the risk, Heath."
"I know you heard all about the fight we had. You really want her to talk to me after that? After the things I said?"
"Oh, this is absolutely about her happiness and not yours. Let's not get that twisted for a hot minute." She offers a smile. "But Clark feels the same. If it's any consolation. You both graduate this year and word is you're off to play pro ball sometime soon."
"Maybe. The scout said he'd call, but Coach hasn't told me anything yet." The stress this was causing was making everything worse, too. I thought I'd totally botched my chances when we got word he showed up at the game after my fight with Leigh. Coming back from that was rough.
"I'm not saying you need to pledge the rest of your lives together. Just fucking admit you care about her and go say something. This is college, Heath Davis. This is your last chance to enjoy life before adulthood really takes over."
"Are you going to keep staring at me like you're going to eat my soul if I don't?"
"Every moment of your life."
Things don't feel that simple. They're never that simple. Still, part of me knows she’s worth trying for anyway. Probably. "I'll think about it."