Going Long - Page 4/101

“That transparent, huh?” I let out a big sigh.

“You were never very good at poker,” he chuckled. “Can I help? Do you want to test my IQ? I mean, I’m a genius, so it will probably throw everything off, but I’m willing to play dumb if you need me to.”

His damn smile and comforting humor always soothed me. His hair was shorter now, but still long enough for me to grab fistfuls, and his face was no longer the baby-skinned one I had first kissed years ago. It was rough, and almost always in need of a shave by the time I saw him. It was perfect. He was perfect. Kissing his stubbly chin, I looked up at him while I lay tucked tightly in his arms.

“You know, it’s not fair that you’re so smart and also so good looking,” I said, for once giving him a compliment without back-loading it with a joke. He just looked at me skeptically, and I couldn’t resist. “Something had to give, though. I guess that’s why your hairline’s receding.”

I held my serious face as long as I could without breaking. When I finally did, he just rolled on top of me and dug in with a breath-stealing tickle round. He finally let up, standing to look at the clock on my desk, his face souring a little because it was time for him to go.

I grabbed my keys and walked him down the hall to the stairs. I always hated this moment, but I knew I’d see him in two days for his game. We stood still just staring at each other for seconds, our fingers interlocking with one another, not willing to let go. I sensed the heaviness on his mind, seconds before his brow creased and he looked down, kicking at my feet a little.

“Spill it, Wildcat,” I nudged him.

“We have to talk about the draft, Noles,” he grimaced. I had made him afraid to bring the topic up, which I didn’t like. But I also dreaded talking about it.

“I know,” I sighed. “I just…I can’t get my head there yet. Maybe, maybe in a week or two?” Why the hell did I throw that out there? Crap, I just gave myself a deadline.

Reed smiled a bit at my words, which solidified what I already knew, that it was right for us to talk about it, and I needed to come around. I just hoped that these next few weeks dragged more slowly than any before.

“Deal. We can talk about it during my bye week. Maybe we can get away for a bit, spend a little time together, alone?” he smirked.

“But we are alone,” I said coyly.

“Yes, but…and no offense…your dorm bed is shit small. And this place always smells like burnt popcorn,” he scrunched his nose a little.

I had to agree. And the thought of the two of us getting away did make the impending conversation a little more tolerable. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, holding his face in my hands and looking him in the eyes. “OKAY, two weeks then,” I smiled, pulling out a damn fine poker face if I’d ever seen one.

It was amazing how much reading I had this early in the semester. Specializing in reading and writing disabilities was more challenging than I had anticipated, but every time I worked with a student in our resource center or at one of the local schools, I knew it was worth it. Seeing someone put together words, and read aloud, made my heart pump with pride.

I had been working on the poem project for a little more than a semester now. I had a dozen or so students that I met with on a regular basis, writing poetry. It was going to be part of my final portfolio, showing how teaching language through poetry helped with written and verbal communication skills. We were going to have a reading at the end of the semester at a local coffee shop where I spent most of my mornings and afternoons studying. Reed knew a little about the project, but I was keeping the reading a surprise. I wanted to invite him for a special evening.

Finally done with my homework for the night, I flipped out the light and kicked my feet into the giant comforter on my bed, breathing it in since it still smelled of Reed. My mind raced, “Two weeks. Two weeks until I gave him my blessing to enter the draft.”

I knew I had to support Reed; I was being selfish. What I wasn’t sure about was if I truly wanted to transfer. It wasn’t so much that I minded moving to a different school, but I did worry about how I would pay for it. Reed always told me not to worry about the finances, but I didn’t think I could let him help pay for my schooling. As ashamed as I was to even admit it to myself, I think part of my worry was that he’d end up breaking up with me and leave me stuck completely.

I also wasn’t sure we could survive a full year being that far apart. I wasn’t even sure what life after graduation meant for us. Reed always talked about me in his future, but he’d never really talked about kids or marriage. I think his own broken childhood colored his outlook on things like forever a little. Sure, we talked about living somewhere because of football. Buying a house thanks to football. Paying my tuition anywhere…with the help of football. But we were always careful not to cross that line into what that meant beyond football. Neither of us.