***
I stayed the rest of the work day with Hunter, sitting in his classes as he lectured aboutTartuffeand prepared the kids for an upcoming quiz. So much was on my mind—decisions I needed to make. The incident with the house earlier kind of knocked me off my axis, deterring me from the path I’d been taking.
I wasn’t quite back at square one, but I was close to it.
What ifsfluttered through my head in an endless torrent.
What if I accepted this as my last season with the Raptors and officially retired from football? I could still do modeling and anything else on the side. What if I left the bigger city life behind and moved back to Willow? I could live in Grandpa Bill’s house, just like I knew he’d want me to do.
What if my life with Hunter—the happiness we’d found over the last month—could last forever? We could have the life we’d always wanted.
Sadness coursed through me as I thought about my life without football, though. It was a huge part of me. It’d be like a musician completely giving up on music, an artist laying down his brush for good, or a writer laying their pen to rest, never to weave another tale.
That’s what giving up football felt like to me. I could live without it, but a piece of my heart would leave too.
“Corbin?”
I looked to see Daniel standing in the doorway to the English classroom. School had just ended a few minutes before, and it was only me and Hunter left in the room.
“Hey, kid,” I said, walking over to him. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering…and it’s only if you’re not busy or anything…but I wanted to know if you’d be okay with helping me train today?” Daniel fiddled with his hands, and he wasn’t looking me in the eye. I got the impression he was used to adults letting him down. “I know football season is over, but I’ve been hitting the workout room daily, practicing for next year.”
Hunter packed up his messenger bag, putting folders of papers he needed to grade in it before closing the flap. He smiled at me and gave a quick nod, as if to tell me to do it.
“Sure,” I said, clapping Daniel on the back. He’d told me before that he wanted to continue football in college and aim for the pros one day. “It’s never too early to prepare for the college scouts. Work on putting together your game film. They’re already looking at guys, so now’s the time.”
“Awesome.” He beamed at me before nervously moving his fingers through his black hair. “I just want to make senior year great, you know? To get into a good college and get out of this town.”
Daniel reminded me so much of myself that I was momentarily taken aback. There was pain behind his words, as if it wasn’t just a desire to get out of this town, but a desperation to escape something within it.
“I’ll do all I can to help you, kid.” I looked at Hunter. “You want to work out with us?”
“No, thanks,” Hunter replied, placing the strap of his bag over his shoulder and walking out of the classroom with us. “I need to grade these assignments. Y’all have fun.”
Daniel started heading down the hall, and I regarded Hunter.
His expressive brown eyes held my gaze, and even though no words were spoken, I felt an indescribable love deep within my chest. He softly smiled, as did I, before I turned to catch up with Daniel.
“Does your coach not stay after school to help you guys train?” I asked as we entered the locker room. I kept a bag of gym clothes in my car and had brought them in to change into.
“Sometimes,” Daniel answered, going to his locker to change. “He sorta doesn’t care about us.”
“What do you mean?” I pulled on some basketball shorts and a black tank before sitting on the bench and tying my sneakers.
“He’s old and his heart isn’t in it.” He slammed his locker before sitting beside me and putting on his shoes. “It’s sort of hard to be passionate about the game when your own coach doesn’t give a fuck.”
“Sorry, kid,” I said, hating that for him and the rest of the guys.
We stood and left the locker room. The weight room was just on the other side of the door, so we went inside and started stretching.
“So how long have you and Mr. Walsh been friends?” Daniel asked as we warmed-up.
“Since we were five,” I answered, smiling as I thought back to how I’d stolen Hunter’s crayon in kindergarten. “We grew up together. People started calling usthe twinsbecause we were always together. No matter where he was, I was there too.”
Daniel’s brow crinkled as he stretched his hamstrings. “So why did you guys stop talking?”
Regret stabbed into my chest, just like it always did at the mention of mine and Hunter’s falling out.
