Page 106 of Drop Three

Perfectly acceptable.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I walk into her room, careful not to make enough noise to be heard downstairs. At the rate Navy and Penelope are chatting, it’s not likely they would hear a car horn in the driveway.

I’m confident I’m safe.

It smells like her in here. Her fragrance lingers in the air—eucalyptus that instantly calms me. I breathe in her signature scent and fight back a groan at the proximity I find myself to the most intimate parts of her.

The space she lays her head at night and recollects. The space she closes herself off in after a long day. And where she sketches and busies herself for hours.

I’m enamored by her.

I search Navy’s room for a basket, bin, or something that indicates lipstick lives there—nothing. Not that I would know what girls keep lipstick in, but I’d imagine it would be something of the sort.

I head toward her en suite bathroom near her closet and find the countertop littered with makeup. So much makeup I would have no idea how she uses it all and to what extent. Navy looks naturally beautiful, even with makeup.

I’d assume this means she knows how to use it well.

Not that she needs it; she’s flawless without it.

She’s exquisite.

I scan my eyes for a place to return her lipstick, but think of a better idea instead.

It seems I might be needing this, after all.

A smirk ghosts my face and I celebrate in a moment of excitement. Excitement for my plans and for the reaction Navy will surely give me.

31

BODHI

Despite spending mostof my time on this green turf and terracotta clay, it feels strange to be back. Season only ended in November and now it’s February—which isn’t a long time off, but it’s definitely needed when you spend nine months of the year playing six games a week.

My knees and back appreciate the break.

However, there’s something about Makers Park that feels like home.

Brett, our favorite security guard, greets me at the player entrance at the back of the clubhouse and I tread through the heavy double doors.

The smell of stale air and cleaning products greets me; it’s a contrast to the smell of sweat, dirt, and menthol you’d typically smell lingering during the season.

I miss it.Three weeks until spring training and my feet will be back on the turf, where I can embrace my freedom.

There are many pros to being a player at Makers. Coach is a great advocate for his team and spared no expense, ensuring we had the best amenities and equipment.

A wide hallway painted black with glass framed player portraits and stats lining the walls leads to the player locker room, where I find Coach waiting for us. Most of the team is already here; grunts and “what up, man” welcome me.

“Hey, guys,” I call out to the team.

Coach Leggins wastes no time proceeding once the rest of us have piled in. “Great. Now that you’re all here, I’ll get right to it.”

I find a seat next to Cal on the bench in the center of the room.

“Two things. I’ll start with the first. The Strikers League has signed Crew Briggs for the upcoming 2025 season. As most of you know, Crew played for the Strikers two years ago and has since had his daughter. He approached me last spring about possibly playing again as a free agent. After little thought, we have decided to offer him a five-year contract, and he has accepted.”

Shit. Fuck. No. No.

What did I do to deserve this colossal inconvenience?

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