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“You OK?” Hastings asked, as Ryan leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking every few seconds from his sobs. He nodded, sitting up, as Hastings reached across the desk and handed him a box of tissues.
“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling one out and wiping his face. “I just…wow. A lot of emotion right now. It’s overwhelming, that’s all. Wow.”
“You’re expected to report to practice on Friday morning. Get there at least an hour before it starts to finalize all the paperwork.” Hastings stood up, came around the desk and pulled Ryan up out of his chair. He threw his arms around him, with Ryan doing the same. “God, I’m gonna miss you. But this? It’s a good thing. A real good thing. You understand that, right?”
Ryan pulled away from the hug and nodded. “Thanks, Coach. Hey, they at least get something good for me?”
“Second round pick.”
“Eh, could’ve been worse, I guess. Listen, thanks for fighting for me. Guess I, uh, should go get packed.” He made his way toward the door, stopping to hug Coach Reilly on the way out.
“The team will pay for all your stuff to be shipped. So just set it up and keep all the receipts. Oh, and I have a list of some of the players whose families are willing to take you in for a bit ‘til you get settled, if you don’t wanna stay in a hotel. Did you want me to text it to you?” Hastings offered, but Ryan shook his head.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got a place to go already.”
As he exited the arena to wait for his Uber, still on a ridiculous high to the point where his legs felt slightly numb, he opened up his text chain with Amara.
R: So, funny story…
A: ???
R: You got room for one more for dinner tomorrow? Oh, and possibly for a few weeks?
A: What the hell are you saying right now, Baylor?
R: I’ve been traded to the Lightning. I’m finally getting my shot, Mar. I have to report on Friday.
A: Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
A: I mean…congratulations. No…you’re serious, tho?
R: Deadass. Just left Hastings’s office.
A: OMG. Of course! Just let me know when your flight gets in and we’ll come for you.
R: Will do. Thanks.
He shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, stretched his arms over his head, and waited for his ride.
Then suddenly it hit him: how the hell would his boyfriend take the news that he was moving almost 1,200 miles away from him?
And tomorrow.
???
“You OK?”
Hayes could hardly move. His hands clutched the steering wheel of the Raptor and he’d almost forgotten to put it in park as they arrived at MacArthur Airport so Ryan could catch his redeye flight to Tampa International Airport. They’d pulled into the parking garage, Hayes having been adamant about the fact that he didn’t want to just drop Ryan and run, that he wanted to wait with him until the very last second when he boarded the flight.
But now, as he sat here, the harsh reality of the situation staring him boldly in the face, he wasn’t so sure that was a viable option anymore.
He turned to face Ryan, who was looking back at him, both of their eyes puffy and red, their faces slick with the tears they’d been shedding nonstop for the past three hours.
“I never thought this would actually happen,” Hayes finally offered, in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
Ryan nodded. “I know.”
They’d left the apartment about an hour ago for the airport, after an impromptu sendoff which included all of the usual suspects arriving to say their goodbyes: Kasic, Dalesy, Jonesy, Rizz, Seggy, Nick and Mark, and of course, Osi.
