Page 21 of (La)Crosse My Heart

Then I became a meme.

There’s a lot of mental toughness that goes into being an athlete, pushing through pain and working through slumps, but this is one mental block that’s almost impenetrable.

Jessa is good at talking to the employees of the stores, only addressing me when I need to try on something else. Have I ever done a fashion show before? No. While this one doesn’t quite feel like that, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be someone who has to change clothes multiple times a day.

Don’t get me wrong, I change my clothes, but having a set outfit for different times of the day isn’t my goal.

It feels like we’ve been inside for four days by the time we walk out. I breathe in the air aggressively, trying to tease Jessa about our time in the mall.

“We survived,” I say, bending over and walking like I suddenly have a limp.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. We were only in there for two hours. That’s probably a record.” She keeps walking, putting space between us.

I look down at the bags in my arms and while I don’t want to agree with her and give her ego an enormous boost, getting this many things in such a short time didn’t seem possible before.

“There are so many things in these bags, I’m not sure I’ll know what to wear and when,” I joke.

She blows out a breath and says, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I live so close to you right now.”

I grin and say, “So you’re going to come dress me every morning?”

“Ew, no. But I can give suggestions. Now that we have some adequate stuff to work with. We haven’t made it to a suit shop yet, though. We’ll have to find a time to fit that in.”

The nice thing about doing a shopping spree is that I’m not super worried about money at the moment. But I’ll have to be careful so I don’t overspend before I get everything fixed with the endorsement deals I’ve got.

“What’s next?” I ask, curious. Maybe it’s self-preservation so I can prep myself for what’s coming.

“We’ll have to do some mock interviews.”

I widen my eyes and groan.

“We won’t do that today. I’m sure you’re tired from shopping and need to get ready for practice. So we’ll do that tomorrow. Then I’d love to get a photo shoot with you.”

“You and me?” I ask, grinning as I point from her to me.

Her eyes go wide before she rolls them.

“No, Clark. For your social media. Has the club ever had a photographer or someone to run their social media?” She opens the door to her car, and I wait to answer until I get in.

I start to shake my head and then say, “Well, kind of. The last owner let his granddaughter do it. But her idea of what would be good to post wasn’t based on how many others saw it.”

Jessa nods. “I can tell that from the few posts she put up. What happened to her?”

Shrugging, I say, “I think she just gave up and they never replaced her. There was a lot of weird stuff with those other owners. It’s been a night and day difference with Stockton.”

“But if they’ve owned you for the last few months, you’d think they would’ve filled the positions necessary to help their marketing.”

“What if things were so bad in the main office they’re still trying to put things right?” After meeting the last owners, I can imagine it’s a pretty tangled mess when it comes to official documents for the teams.

She doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “Yeah, I didn’t think about it like that. I’ll just have to find someone to do your photo shoot then.”

Now is when I cringe. “Can’t we hold off on that until after I work with the gear companies?”

She blinks a few times and says, “What gear companies?”

“I’m sponsored by STX and Warrior. I’m also supposed to meet with Gatorade to negotiate a contract.”

Nodding, she says, “That would’ve been good information to know yesterday. Do you have a time when you’ll be back working with them?”

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