Page 21 of Brick Wall

Sebastian

“ T his problem has never happened to me before. What do you think I should do about it?” I confess to my best friend Calvin in an empty weight room at our training facility.

“Just have the doc prescribe you the little blue pill,” Cal retorts.

“What?” I stop in my tracks to look him in the eyes, where there’s a smirk on his face.

“You’re a little young for the problem, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Calvin’s smirk turns into a full grin now.

“Shut it. You know exactly what problem I’m talking about.”

“It’s not a big deal. It happens to guys all the time. You still have some time,” Calvin states.

“Not really. Thanks for trying to console me, but you suck at it.”

“I try my best,” Cal says with a little shove to my right arm as he leaves the complex .

I stay put for a minute while I cool down from my workout.

Training camp is well underway, but it’s not going my way, at least so far.

Here’s the thing. There are two types of offensive linemen in the league: the ones who must artificially add the pounds and the ones that are naturally big. I’m the latter. My best friend and Boston Revs center, Calvin, is the former.

Cal has a daily meal plan designed by a professional to help optimize his weight. He sets an alarm in the middle of the night for a protein shake to ensure that he makes weight and isn’t too light.

If an offensive lineman doesn’t stay in their weight range during the season, they can get fined eight hundred dollars per pound per day. It can add up and I’d hate to give my employer any unnecessary funds.

Most offensive lineman eat over five thousand calories a day, sometimes much more. I usually aim for that, although it can be more, depending on the day. I don’t often keep track.

I’ve always been the biggest in my class, even at a young age.

However, when I turned thirteen, my dad passed away suddenly.

Life was hectic for my mom, trying her best to parent and provide for three depressed kids.

We ate a lot of fast food, quick meals, and junk food, especially the first few years after my dad passed.

By the time I was a senior in high school, I was already over three hundred pounds. I was a dream offensive lineman for my high school coach and an easy recruit for college. I had multiple offers for full scholarships at division one football programs.

I’ve been very thankful for the position I’ve been in, and I usually have zero guilt in eating food because I know I need to be big for my career.

I make millions of dollars for being enormous.

I’ve never really minded eating more food for my job and never struggled to stick between my weight range.

Until now.

At the start of training camp, I was informed I was twenty pounds over my weight limit. No big deal, it happens in the off-season sometimes to players. Last season I gained ten, and I could quickly get back down to weight, especially since training camp can be an extensive workout as is.

I was a little upset at the news, but I’ve gained weight in the off-season before. I can get back into my weight range before the season officially kicks off.

However, I’m not losing weight fast enough.

Hence, my little problem I was telling Calvin about a few minutes ago.

We did another weigh in a few minutes prior and I was still fifteen pounds away from making weight, and I only have two weeks left before the season officially begins. I need to get in better shape, and fast.

I’ve been arriving earlier and staying later, and those pounds are harder to lose now that I’m not getting any younger.

Maybe I should retire.

At thirty-one? You still have a few good years left.

I can and will do it. It’s just a little roadblock.

Before I can get even more in my head, my phone pings from the bench next to me.

I grab my phone and notice a new text message from Annie.

Annie: Hey, how’s your day going so far?

I’ve been messaging back and forth with Annie often, although this is the first time we’ve talked today. I quickly type out a reply to her.

Sebastian: Could be better Annie: Everything okay? Anything I can do?

Am I going to confide in her? Should I reach out for help? I probably got this, but it would be nice to tell someone else besides Calvin. Also, it’s kind of embarrassing to tell someone, especially an attractive female, that you are too fat.

Sebastian: Just outside my weight class still Sebastian: The season is getting close and I haven’t been this far behind before Sebastian: Getting a little nervous

I decide to admit my fears to her. Annie has been a good friend so far, and she’s had her chance to sell my phone number, text messages, conversations, and embarrassing stories about me, and she hasn’t.

I hear that familiar ping again and pick up my phone to read it. “Over or under,” she directly asks, and I don’t perceive any judgments with her quick question.

“Over,” I reply back quickly.

Annie: What’s your schedule like? Annie: Maybe I can help?

Sebastian: I’m done for the day for mandatory stuff.

I was thinking of sticking around and getting a little more workout in, not sure yet.

Annie: Do you want to meet in an hour? Sebastian: Sure Annie: Do you want to pick me up, or do you want me to drive and pick you up?

I don’t know why, but I like that she gave me the option to choose. I text her back that I’ll pick her up and she shoots me her address. Perfect.

Annie only lives a few minutes away from me, more so when there’s Boston traffic. It takes me roughly six minutes to pick her up.

She’s already at the curb wearing athletic shorts and a tight tank top. She looks casual, but still very sexy.

I need to rearrange myself before she enters the truck. That’s right, I don’t have that problem at all. Maybe I should call Calvin and let him know.

“Hey!” Annie greets me with a big smile on her face, throwing her backpack next to her.

“Hey! So, where to?” I casually ask her, since I really have no idea what the plan is.

“Get on ninety-three south.” She types on her phone and then the little voice from her phone’s maps program says the same thing.

In less than twenty minutes, we reach our location.

“Pull into one of these spots here,” Annie instructs as I pull into a small makeshift dirt pullover spot near a trail entrance.

She grabs her backpack, and we walk toward the entrance of a trail at Blue Hills, which is a hill and state park just south of Boston.

“A hike?” I question.

“That all right?” Annie asks, and I simply nod in response. “I was trying to think of a place that was private enough that you wouldn’t get bothered, but still fun. I figured you were sick of the gym, and it’s been so gorgeous out, so we should take advantage.”

“Yeah, this is great. I’ve meant to come here, but haven’t yet.”

“I love it here. This trail is on the backside of the hill, so it doesn’t get as many people as the main entrance. I figured if someone recognized you, they’d probably leave you alone since it’s mostly solo hikers over here.”

“Sounds good,” I say when we ascend a trail with some wooden steps in utter silence.

I’m not ignoring Annie per se. I’m concentrating on my breathing. How much farther do we have to go?

Not sure if she’s a mind reader or I say my thoughts out loud, but Annie shares we are about halfway there.

“Let me know if you want to stop at any point for a quick break.”

“I’m good,” I lie.

I’m a professional athlete and do an extensive workout for hours every single day. However, practice was intense today and I’m exhausted. Climbing a hill isn’t how I want to spend my evening.

Although the view is nothing to complain about, we finally make it up to the top. I can see the Boston skyline in the distance, and it’s beautiful.

“Wow,” I say in between breaths.

Annie gives me a smile in return.

After a few minutes, Annie takes out a small blanket and drapes it on a rock. She also starts to pull out food onto the blanket.

“Nothing fancy.” She must see something on my face because she blushes nervously. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, this is great,” I reply quickly.

Annie continues to pull things from her backpack like a magician.

“What do you got in there?” I tilt my head closer to get a better look. Everything smells so good.

“This is a cold salad with spinach, salmon, avocado, eggs, nuts, and a lot of good stuff in here. Hopefully, it will fill you up, but I also have quinoa salad, some fruit, yogurt, and more. Help yourself to whatever,” she explains as she hands me a paper plate with some utensils.

“This is great,” I repeat. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I went off what I eat, what our nutritionist recommends to our players, and what I had on hand.”

“You had this all on hand?”

When Annie volunteered to help, she also asked if it was okay if she brought dinner or if I wanted to eat on my own.

I told her I was flexible. Dinner sounded great, but I didn’t want her to worry about feeding me because I eat a lot, and I didn’t give her too much notice to prepare for our unexpected plans.

“Yeah, I food shop and prep stuff on Sundays.”

“I don’t want to eat all your food for the week,” I state.

She waves her hand above her face. “No, you’re not.

I just started meal prepping, and I don’t have it done quite yet.

I often prep too much, and I sometimes don’t get to things before they go bad.

Goldie has also been eating at Bryce’s more lately, so I’ve had more leftovers than I usually do.

I can always head to the store later in the week. ”

“Well, thank you, this is great.” I take another bite, and then another .

In between bites, Annie asks, “Do you have a nutritionist?”

“I do. I have a meal plan she recommends, but I sometimes struggle sticking with it,” I admit. Snacks are my downfall. They are so delicious, and I need to keep up my calorie count to do my job properly, but I guess I went a little overboard in the off-season this time.

“Did she have any advice?”

“Uhh.”

“Maybe you should set up another meeting?” She reads my hesitancy perfectly. “You have a team. Use it.”

“I know. I should.” After a moment of silence, I add, “I’ll call her tomorrow,” and Annie gives me a bright smile as a response. It makes me want to do anything to keep that smile there.

We chat a little longer, mainly about our love for sports and working in a team environment, while enjoying the meal. The sun is slowly setting, and the sky is gradually turning bright orange over the skyline views.

“I have some more in my bag if you want.”

Really? I don’t show my surprise to her, and just casually say, “I’m all set.”

“Are you sure? I saw your meals at camp. I want to make sure you’re full.”

Again, there’s no judgment there, just help.

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Coach?” I poke fun.

“Yes, if you are hungry. It’s lean protein. You need to keep your energy up,” she says in all seriousness.

I’m not sure why, but Coach Annie is kind of hot. Who would have thought I’d be attracted to a strict coach?

“I’m full.” I put my hands up to defend myself. “I’m serious.”

“If you’re sure.” She puts her empty plastic containers back in her backpack.

“You are a great cook. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She zips her backpack and throws it over her shoulder. “You ready?”

No. Why do I want to spend more time with her on top of the mountain at sunset?

“Yeah, we should get back.”

We make it down the mountain in record time and then pile into the truck to head home.

I’m quiet on the drive back to Annie’s house, mostly because I’m exhausted. My long day has really caught up to me. Annie is quiet as well. Maybe it’s the same situation for her.

“Thank you for your help.” I pull up to the curb near her house.

“Oh, no problem.” She waves her hand in front of her face as she speaks. “I don’t know how helpful it was taking you on a hike and picnic, but I had fun.”

“Me too,” I admit.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. I’ll email you a few articles and tips when I’m in my office tomorrow.”

“That would be great.” Annie gives me a soft smile in return, leaning slightly toward me in the truck.

I’m currently double-parked outside her building in South Boston.

She lives on a quiet side street with no cars or pedestrians out on this calm evening.

“You are such a good friend,” I add. I want her to know how helpful she has been and how much I appreciate her.

Annie turns her head too fast so I can’t get a read on her. Her hand is on the passenger door, and she hurries to get out. “Thanks again for hiking with me,” Annie says halfway out the door while grabbing her backpack and slinging it over one shoulder.

With that, she quickly jogs into her house. I wait a moment to ensure she’s safely inside and then I drive away.