Page 6 of Game Plan
Ollie's mouth moved, but nothing else came out.
I smirked at them and followed them out of the meeting room. They always razzed each other, but on the field we cametogether like the stereotypical well-oiled machine. Last season, we could have used more grease, but we did okay. The problem was, I wanted to do better than okay. I hated losing more than anything else. Second on that list was being thrown a curveball, like the head coach quitting suddenly. Or my mom…
Focus, I told myself. The day was far from over. I had an interview with a journalist from theNational Dailyto get through yet. Strange, the woman had the same name as a girl I knew in high school. Were they related? It was probably a coincidence. Rebecca Anderson was a pretty common name.
Whatever happened to that girl? I'd thought about her a lot over the years, but never brought myself to look her up. Not after the way I treated her. No doubt she hated my guts. If she hadn't forgotten all about me.
When I left high school, I wanted nothing more than to put those days behind me. The memories were fuzzy now and that was how I liked it. Gone would be better, but there were times things came flooding back…
I gritted my teeth and shoved the memories firmly out of my mind. I had to put my game face on, so to speak, and keep it firmly in place.
Mister Congenial. Mister Nice Guy. Mister Approachable, as long as I was on the clock. Who was I kidding? I was always on the clock. Whether I was playing, or buying pizza with my cousin and her family. I had to assume someone was watching wherever I went and act accordingly.
I exhaled through my nose and headed toward the stairs that led to the lower levels of the Humpbacks’ HQ. The upper sections contained offices for staff, and team meetings. The lower was for press conferences, and a large room which was set up for watching plays. The basement contained a gym. Wide doors led to the locker rooms and out to the field.
I looked longingly in that direction. I was living the life I'd wanted since I was a kid, but no one told young Conrad how much time he'd spend talking, and sitting in meetings, instead of out there on the field.
I trotted down the stairs. I preferred to use them, not just for the exercise, but because I hated the confined space. Those were third on my list of dislikes, right above expired yoghurt. Anyone who is okay with expired dairy products probably needs to seek help from an exorcist. As for hating elevators, that's a totally rational fear, as far as I'm concerned.
"Hey, Conny."
I grimaced. Mary from the front desk was the only living human who got away with calling me that. I used to worry it would catch on, but it hadn't.
Yet.
"Hey, Mare." I gave her a nod. "How's the family?"
"Same old, same old," she replied as she always did. "Bob still hasn't learned to put down the toilet seat."
"The true battle of the sexes," I said with a grin.
"Ain't it though?" she agreed. "I even put a sign up about the toilet, saying, 'If you pee, put it down.' Y'know what he did? He crossed out the last three words and scribbled 'leave it up' on there in red crayon."
I chuckled. Mary and Bob had the happiest marriage of any couple I knew. In spite of their running bathroom battles, they were tight. When I saw them in public, they were usually holding hands and snuggling. All that after thirty years together.
"Hashtag couple goals," I said with a laugh.
"Yeah, as a kid, I dreamed of a guy who writes in red crayon," she said with a shake of her head.
I scratched my chin. "Is that what I'm doing wrong? I'll have to stop by the shop on the way home for a packet of them."
"Bah!" She waved a hand at me. "You're barely out of nappies. You have years to enjoy yourself before you surrender to the daily tortures of marriage."
"If I find someone half as good as you, I'll be a lucky man," I said sincerely.
"Conny Florence, are you flirting with me?" she teased.
My eyes widened. "I wouldn't dare. Bob might come after me with his second best rolling pin." A baker by trade, Bob was at least a foot shorter than me, thirty years older and a hell of a lot slower. But I bet it would at least be an amusing sight.
"He might at that," Mary said, a glint of humour in her eyes. "He's more likely to trip you than chase you these days. Besides, it would be his third best rolling pin. He wouldn't want to break the first two on your hard head."
"I'll keep an eye out for trip hazards," I assured her. I couldn't deny having a hard head. It got hit enough times that it was miraculous my brains were more or less intact. Some would say more, some would say less. It depended on who you spoke to. Both sides probably have a great argument.
Her expression turned serious. "You guys must be sad to hear about Fred quitting."
"Word travels fast," I said. If Mary didn't know what was going on around here, it wasn't worth knowing. She'd probably heard Coach Franks was leaving before I did.
"It sucks, but he's gotta do what he's gotta do. I hope Lori pulls through. Cancer is a bitch." I pressed my lips together and averted my eyes.
