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Chapter 15
“Do you think we’re soulmates?”
It wasn’t even a question for Cornell. Maybe I should’ve said something better, more romantic. Ali’s call earlier had taken him for complete shock. But it wasn’t him to spew rainbows and butterflies. Cornell was straight and to the point. And what he told her had simple meaning—it’s not just about being happy. It’s impossible to be me without you. Because I’m not myself right now. I’m tense. I’m on edge. I feel like I’m walking around without my fucking head and heart.
He clung to her voice for the short phone call, dreaming of the moment he wouldn’t just hear it but feel it against the skin of his cheek, his neck—the breath of her laugh, the sound of happiness. But Ali didn’t say when she was returning, and when she hung up Cornell was back in reality—heartbroken for Ali and distraught by the distance.
“What are you still doing here?”
Cornell grabbed the remote to pause the film. “Milburn has some good defensive backs this year,” he told Evan with a shrug. “I’ve got to prepare our receivers. We need some major happy feet.”
And I can’t go home and sit in an empty house for one more fucking night.
It just felt wrong. Suddenly the house he had leased originally for himself never really belonged to him at all, like Cornell didn’t make sense in it anymore, as if he was out of place when he was alone in their place.
“Why are you still around?” he asked Evan, who sat beside him.
Evan held up a pair of glasses. “Forgot my reading specs again. I’m getting to the point where I’m going to have to wear them on this necklace my wife gave me. But I’ve lost that, too.”
Cornell smiled and nodded.
“How’s Ali doing?”
I don’t know.
“Good,” Cornell lied. “She’ll be back in the office soon.”
Evan blew out a heavy sigh. “Well that’s a relief. You know, that other one she works with can’t quite line these guys up the way your lady can.”
Cornell did feel bad for Beth, who called or texted him a dozen times a day.
Jose’s teacher told me he left class three different times.
One of your players just blamed Mowgli for eating his homework.
Does Ali feed them or something? They only come to my office looking for food.
“I’m sure everyone will be relieved when she’s back.” But no one like me.
Evan’s chair squeaked when he leaned back against it. “You doing alright? You seem a little distracted lately.”
Cornell lifted his baseball hat to smooth his curls down. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been kind of off.” And a bit on edge with no patience for bullshit of any kind. Cornell knew he had been harsh during practice, bordering on abusive with all the post-practice sprints. “Sort of got a lot in my head. I’ll work it out.”
Evan nodded. “Look, Cornell, we go back. If you’re getting poached now by another school—”
“I’m not,” he said, taken aback by the idea. “I haven’t. Of course, I’d let you know.”
“Good.” Evan stood. “Because there will probably be some changes by the end of the season. I’ll need to know if you’re not planning on sticking around.”
“Changes?”
“Good ones, I think, for you.” Evan winked. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Just don’t run my offense into the ground doing suicides tomorrow. We need fresh legs for Friday.” Evan walked out of the film room before calling out from the hallway, “And go home and sleep. You look like shit, and we’re on the field at 5:30 tomorrow.”
Cornell turned off the projector and rolled his neck. “Mowgli.” He whistled. “Let’s go home, man.”
Mowgli wasn’t his usual self in the car. Typically, the dog spread out along the backseat. But today, Mowgli was upright, tense, and repeatedly butting his head into Cornell’s shoulder.
“I know, I know. Dinner time. We’ll be home in a minute.”
