Page 67 of The Overtime Persuasive

She throws her hands in the air. “That’s encouraging.”

“You’ll still have the store. You’ll still have people ordering these boxes. You’ll still have all of that…nothing disappears.”

“But I’ll know it wasn’t good enough.”

“No. You’ll know they picked someone else.”

“That sounds like the same thing.”

I think about the blank space waiting on my jersey. Maybe Coach picks me, maybe he doesn’t. I can work harder, speak up more, make the right decisions, and still watch the letter go to someone else. It would hurt. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’d be wrecked for a bit.

But, I also know, it wouldn’t erase everything I’ve already done. And someone here in front of me needs this reminder too.

“You told me I need to let Coach see I’m ready for the alternate position,” I say. “He might not give it to me. There are other guys who deserve consideration too. I can’t control who is selected, I can only show up and do my best.”

She tosses her hands in the air. “But you deserve that spot.”

“Maybe I do.” I mimic her move, tossing my hands in the air too. “That doesn’t mean it’s mine.”

Eva’s gaze softens as she watches me.

“I could pretend I don’t want it,” I continue, watching her as I knowingly hit a nerve. “That way, if I don’t get it, it could make it easier. I could tell myself I never really tried, so that way no one ever really rejected me.”

Eva shakes her head. “But you are trying.”

“Exactly.” I tap the counter beside her laptop. “If Coach doesn’t choose me, he can be the one to make that decision. I’m not doing it for him.”

She looks at the submission button.

“Don’t decide for the judges,” I say. “Make them tell you no.”

Eva is quiet long enough that I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. Then, slowly, she reaches for the mouse, her pointer hovering over the button.

She looks at me. “I feel sick.”

“You haven’t pressed it yet.”

“It’s the built-up tension. Freaking me out.”

“Should I start counting down?”

“Just stop talking maybe?”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Three.”

“Liam.” She growls, and I like it.

“Two.”

“Liam!”

“Well, maybe don’t growl next time,” I retort playfully. My mouth begins to form the letter “O”, preparing to say the word when…

She presses the button before I reach one. The screen turns white.