he says. I guess I’ve given him the idea that I talk about what I’m going through. That I talk about what I’m feeling, how I’m feeling. He takes my silence as a sign to keep talking. “So, I explained to Coach Wilson what happened. I told him you didn’t want anyone to know. We basically told the guys you had an emergency and had to go home,” he says, letting me know the cover story.
I nod. “Thanks,” I tell him.
“When you go out to practice, ignore the guys’ questions. Just go out there and leave it out on the field. I know it’s only practice, but trust me, it’ll help,” Lincoln advises. I know he’s been through a lot, but what would he know about this? About what Amelia is going through.
“Got it,” I tell him then walk ahead of him and into the locker room. Opening my locker, I go through the motions of changing into my workout clothes; luckily, I always keep a spare here.
I go out to the field before the guys even enter the locker room. I want to make sure I don’t give them the time to ask me a million questions, to make jokes, to talk to me. I’m not here for that. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here.
I should be home with Amelia. At Amelia’s home. Even if she doesn’t talk to me. Even if she ignores me. Even if I just sit on the couch and wonder how she’s doing.
Maybe that’s exactly why I need to be here right now. Maybe I need to focus my attention on something else and give her the space she needs.
I leave practice feeling emotionally exhausted. I’m not sure if I’ve ever walked out of the locker room so quickly in my life.
Coach Wilson gave me a look of sympathy when he saw me out there. Then, I joined the quarterbacks and the other tight ends on the team and did some work with them. I didn’t realize how out of shape I would feel, even though it’s only been a couple of days. Every route I ran I felt as though I was carrying weights on my feet. Still, I’d done my best to avoid deep conversations and to pretend to listen to my teammates. I tried to be the Nick they know. The one who doesn’t take anyone seriously. The one who’s always cocky on and off the field.
I tried to give them what they expect from me but it wasn’t easy. It didn’t feel real, but I didn’t want to feel anything anyway. I almost did something stupid too.
If it wasn’t for Coach Stevens getting in the middle, Mersier would’ve caught a fist to the face. For a backup quarterback who never plays, he sure tried to run his mouth today about my absence. I wasn’t up for that. Luckily for him, Coach Stevens and Lincoln got in the way before I got in his face.
Walking out onto the parking lot, I find Elia waiting by my car. “Have you been out here long?” I ask.
“A little under an hour,” she replies.
That’s a long time. “Sorry!” I tell her.
“It’s not your fault. Well, it kind of is. If I didn’t have to force you to go to practice today, I could’ve driven myself and been home a long time ago,” she says.
I unlock the car and she gets in. I pull out of the parking lot quickly and head toward Amelia.
“I could’ve skipped practice,” I tell her.
I can feel her staring at the side of my face. “But I bet it felt good to be out there on the field.”
I don’t know about good. “It was a distraction,” I tell her. I feel exhausted now. So exhausted that I’ll probably hit the couch and fall asleep instantly. It may even feel comfortable tonight.
Just as we’re about to reach the parking lot, my phone rings. I look at the caller ID on the dashboard and see it’s a call from Dad.
I look at Elia, wondering if she’d mind if I pick up the call. “Hi, Dad,” I say, answering after Elia tells me she doesn’t mind.
“Hi son, how are you?” he asks the million-dollar question. “Are we all still doing dinner on Sunday?” he asks. Damn, I forgot to tell him.
“No,” I tell him.
Reaching the parking lot, I find an empty space and park the car. “How come? I thought I was finally going to get to meet the mother of my