Page 14

14

EMMETT

W e won yesterday, but coach was pissed off about a few things he saw, and so there is no Victory Monday to start our season. No. Instead, I’m up and out of bed early in the morning to get ready to get our asses chewed out, most likely.

Coach has been in a bitchy mood for the last few weeks, and although we could maybe take a hint and realize that he may be under intense pressure to perform this year or get cut lose, the guys have other ideas.

“He definitely isn’t getting any at home,” Cooper says under his breath after the game. Coach went on and on about how we won but we weren’t going to be winning for long if we kept making the same mistakes. I’ll admit, we were all a little rusty. Although we did fine, we’re going to have to get it together, and quick.

That being said, the defense is always a little rusty the first game or two of the season. We don’t really tackle each other during practices to prevent too many injuries, so the main action is always on the field. We’re a little rusty from the summer, but I’m sure we’ll get it together for the next game.

This morning feels particularly shitty, as I was up late last night in my garage working on the Barracuda. Heidi seemed spooked when I saw them after the game. She had been standing with Briar and Isla, waiting for the other guys to come out, and although everyone around her looked happy, there was something behind her smile that made me think she was about to cry.

Instead of asking her if she was okay, I asked if she liked the game.

“Yeah,” she had told me with a stiff nod, almost wincing.

“Good,” I told her, scooping Juniper into my arms.

The conversation was quick, if it was really even a conversation at all, and when we said goodbye, she was off in a hurry.

So it comes as a bit of a shock when I walk into the family room to see Heidi out the front window, sitting on the pavement of the driveway, pulling on shoes.

I open the door, and when she doesn’t turn, I call out to her.

“Heidi?” I ask loudly, resulting in her nearly jumping out of her skin.

Taking her headphone out, she shoots me a guilty look, sweeping her long, red ponytail over her shoulder to her back. “Yeah?”

“You’re here early.”

She looks around. It’s a beautiful morning. The sun is just coming up, the birds are chirping, and the Maryland heat hasn’t quite kicked in yet. It’s not at all odd for it to be nearly ninety-degrees in the morning in September.

“I,” she looks down, biting her lip as she thinks about what she wants to tell me. “I wanted to go for a run.”

“You run?” I ask, propping myself against the doorframe.

“I used to,” she says with a shrug as she stands up, picking up the slides she had clearly been wearing beforehand and placing them in the footwell of the car.

“And you want to do that here?” I ask, looking around.

“I don’t want to be late,” she says simply, her hand against the car door as she stretches. “I figured if I run around here, I can just get here early, or if I’m running late I don’t run at all. Either way, I’m here when you leave and you don’t have to worry about anything.”

My heart clenches a little at her words, realizing that she really cares about this job. Well, that or she just don’t like being late to things just like me.

But I want to think that she really wants to be here helping us, and so that’s what I choose to believe.

“Well,” I pause as I turn to head back inside, “I hope you have fun.”

“What did you do when you lost your purpose in life?” she says quickly all of a sudden, and when I turn, she’s already shrinking back. “Never mind, ignore that I asked.”

I shake my head. “No, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Take your words back. I want to help. What are you feeling?”

The truth is, I’ve lost my purpose in life over and over again. More times than I can count. Most of the time, Juniper is enough to remind me why I’m here. But sometimes it requires therapy visits, and sometimes it’s even more than that.

“I just,” she throws her hands up. “I just feel like nothing I do is enough. Like nothing I do matters. All of my friends are doing what they love. Well,” she pauses, her head cocked to the side. “Almost all of them. But the ones that aren’t at least like what they do. I feel like I’ve been chasing their level of success my entire life, and every single time I get close, the distance changes. Something happens that sets me back so much, and I never know what to do. I never know what to do. And I ask my mom, and all she can tell me is that everything happens for a reason. And I ask my grandma, and she says the same. And I don’t have m—” her voice breaks, and I wish with everything in me that I could make my feet move toward her to wrap her in a hug.

But I know she doesn’t want that.

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.”

“Here?”

“This life, Emmett. I’m going to be thirty in a few short years, and I have nothing going for me. Nothing. I feel like I’m the only one being dragged behind, watching all these success stories, and if I’m honest,” her head tilts to the sky, “I feel like half the time they only tolerate me. That one day I’m going to be left behind because, well, I am behind.”

When tears start welling in her gorgeous green eyes, I can’t take it anymore.

Stepping out onto the cool concrete, I make my way over to her, pulling her in. I’m instantly overwhelmed by the fruity scent of pineapple, and I resist the urge to bury my nose into her hair.

“If there’s one thing I can say to help,” I start, pulling out slightly to look down into her eyes. “It’s that I’ve been around your friends for a long time, and you’re nothing but adored. Everyone loves you, Heidi. And everyone wants what’s best for you.” So much so that Leo warned me that if I hurt her in any way, he would kill me.

“Thank you,” she swallows, her head turning as I pull her back into my chest. Her arms hand loosely at her side, as if not wanting to engage in a full hug, and I understand it.

“You’re amazing at what you do, and I feel like you need to start working on your confidence a little more, okay?"

She nods into me.

Suddenly pulling away, Heidi wipes her eyes. “Sorry about that. It’s just, I don’t know. It’s all been weighing on me a lot lately. I just think that maybe reconnecting with things I used to love may help me a little, you know?” she shrugs.

I nod. I do know.

“Anyways,” she turns and snags her headphones from the car before placing them on her head. “I’m sure you have a lot going on this morning. I’ll be back soon, before you leave. Oh shit, wait,” she pauses, picking up the small felt baggie on her seat. “I brought this for you, actually.”

I take it in my hand, studying it before spilling the contents into my hand.

A thick metal chain slides right out, spilling over my fingers. A larger rectangular gray stone hanging from it.

“What is this?” I ask.

“I told you I’d give you something that night, remember? I’m just keeping my word. It’s smokey quartz.”

She takes off without another word, and I can’t help but watch as she disappears down the road.

I carefully pocket the bag it came in and unclasp it, draping it around my neck.

“Dad?” Juniper asks from the family room, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Did you get more fruit? I have to feed the,” she stops, the wheels turning in her little head. “birds.”

“You mean the racoons?” I ask with a smile.

Her eyes widen before she looks at her feet. “I don’t know of any racoons, but I do know of birds.”

“Juniper, I know about the racoons.”

Her eyes flicker to mine. “Did Heidi tell you?”

Yes. “Off course not,” I lie. “I found them the other day.” Juniper loves Heidi, and although I understand why Heidi told me, I also know that Juniper would hate knowing that. It’s just easier to lie to her about it. Keep her both happy and safe.

“Well, they’re happy. I just feed them dad, I promise.”

I nod, heading to the kitchen. “How about I feed them today?”

She hesitates, her lips comically pursed before she lets out a slow nod. “Fine. You can feed them. But say good morning, okay? They like being told good morning.”

“Isn’t it technically good night for them?”

Juniper grabs a yogurt from the fridge, ripping the top off before digging in. “Something like that.”

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” I ask my trainer, Ben as he’s hanging up some equipment in the training room.

“Yeah man, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if I’m okay to start running some in my off time. I have someone who’s trying to get into it and I’d love to do it as well.”

Ben pauses, a foam roller in his hands. “Where are you looking to run?”

I shrug. “I think just around my neighborhood. It wouldn’t be that much, just a mile or two and I don’t know how often yet.”

“Sure, let’s just make sure that you’re warming up properly beforehand and after. Are you looking to do it before practices?”

I nod.

“Okay. We can come up with a plan for you. You’ll have to eat some more to maintain your weight. I’ll let the nutritionist know and we can come up with a meal plan, but I will come up with a plan you should really stick with before and after, how about that? And if you even think that something feels off, or that a muscle is going to get pulled, you walk your ass back to your house, stretch a little, and get your butt here, got it?”

“Yeah, thanks Ben,” I say with a wave.

The only thing I could think of all day was how alone Heidi must be feeling, and for whatever reason, my stupid head won’t let me leave her alone.

Go with her, my brain kept whispering to me every single second it got a chance to.

She doesn’t want me to, I would argue back.

You don’t know that.

And I don’t know that. It’s not a secret that Heidi wanted to be friends after our trip. We spilled out guts to each other and I ran away like a petulant child, leaving her in the dust. But I can’t keep doing that.

She’s going to be around a lot, and I need to realize that and get a grip.