Page 17 of Trick Play

“Someone was here for you today,” Coach Weston explained.

“Who?” No one I knew was in town. My parents always gave a heads up, and Haley would have disappeared if that was the case.

“Tyler Rodriguez,” Hiller said.

I blinked. Took in a breath. Sat up. “You’re joking.”

“No, son. We’re not.” Weston was beaming. “Washington is in a rebuilding phase, and they’re looking for young, fresh players to breathe life back into the team.”

I shook my head. One of the few times in my life I was actually speechless.

Everyone knew who Rodriguez was. He was one of the best centers in the game’s history. He retired a few years ago and joined the Washington Wolves’ coaching staff. He was usually their recruiter, because what player wouldn’t be impressed by meeting him? Anyone with half a brain would follow him if given the chance.

I rubbed my scruffy beard. I needed to shave. I looked pretty ragged lately since my appearance took a backseat to studying. It was half the reason I still had long hair I pulled into a bun. I didn't have time to worry about a haircut. Knowing Rodriguez saw me like this made my gut turn. It wasn’t exactly the impression I wanted to give scouts.

“We didn’t want to tell you before practice because we didn’t want you getting in your head,” Weston explained.

“Will he be here for the game tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes, so you need to be at your very best,” Hiller said.

“Yes, Coach.” I nodded to him then Weston. “Is there anything else?”

“No, get to class.” Weston dismissed me, and I rushed back to the locker room.

The best part of morning practice was that no one had time to hang out after to chat or stir up drama. Most of us had classes to get to or wanted to get to the dining hall before they switched to lunch options.

Only three guys were left when I charged through to pull off my gear and shower, and they all left me alone. Once I was clean and dressed, I checked the time on my phone and swore under my breath. I had ten minutes to get to History of Photography on the opposite side of campus. It was at least a fifteen-minute walk, so I’d have to run to make it.

I left my gear in my locker, having to worry about it later, and threw my backpack over my shoulder as I jogged down the hall and out the back exit. As I breezed by people and dodged groups taking up the entire walkway, I thought out how much more convenient it would be to have a motorcycle or scooter to get around. Bikes were banned on the campus paths, so it would never happen, but it would be nice for times like this.

Or a shuttle. One that ran from one side of campus to the other, no stops in between. If this wasn’t my last year, I might try to push these ideas.

A few people called my name and waved as I passed, and I waved a hand as I maintained my pace. Good thing we didn’t do sprints today, or I wouldn’t be able to run.

Almost there.

I didn’t check my phone until I was running up the steps to the building. I was two minutes late, so I took the stairs two at a time.

Not too bad. My excitement vanished the second I stepped inside and saw Kennedy’s face.

She looked annoyed. No, angry.

But why?

It couldn’t have been me. I’d listened to her and hadn’t tried to speak to her or even come to this general area after she told me off.

I sat at the desk in front of her, but one row to the side so I could glimpse her over my shoulder.

She huffed and sunk lower.

Was that girl speak for something?

She sighed.

Did she want me to ask what was wrong? Haley did this when she was mad and wanted someone to ask her about it. Why she couldn’t come out and tell you was beyond me, but that wasn’t the point.

I twisted, and her eyes snapped to me at the movement.