Page 30 of Not that Impressed
I scroll through my phone, plenty of videos about the game today popping up in my feed.Being the Bennetsclips have been showing up more and more in my feed as well.
A text pops up from Kara.
Kara
How’s she gonna spin this and justify it?
She’s attached a video that shows Ellie and Grayson sitting together at the Pumas game last week. It’s zoomed in from far away, so it’s grainy, but Ellie seems into him. I swallow back jealousy about that. She didn’t know about him then. She does now.
Will
She probably doesn’t know what a tool he is. He’s good at faking it.
Kara
Still. Ew.
Heading to LA for work. Back in a couple weeks. Want to do dinner?
You can fill me in on Charlie’s upcoming wedding date by that point.
Will
Text me when you get back.
I rub at my chin. Kara wants this to mean more than friends, but I don’t feel that spark with her.
I go back to scrollingBeing the Bennetsvideos, finally deciding, based on the newest ones, that Ellie didn’t come to the game today. It’s been less than a week since she got her concussion, and it would’ve been too loud for her healing brain. I check her page, wondering if she’s updated her loyal fans about where she watched the game from.
Her last post is a picture of her in a custom Pumas jersey for the foundation she’s working with right now, Girls Play. Instead of the Pumas logo in vintage font across the front it says “Pumas Girl.” The caption just says that fans get 25% off if the Pumas win today.
We did. I click and go buy a jersey.
Then I put my phone in my pocket and focus back on the highlights. Nolan Fletcher, one of our safeties comes by and slaps me on the back after the highlights show my sack on the Devils quarterback.
“You’re averaging, like, a sack a game,” he says in an awed voice. “You’re insane.”
“Just working hard.” Benefitting from years of coaches and camps and whatever else. Those thoughts are thanks to Ellie pointing out how I tell my story, whether I mean to or not.
Fletcher slaps me again and goes back to his seat, whooping at a nice pass by Jett that comes up on the screen.
My mind has already spun back to Ellie again.
I massage my forehead. This has to stop. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.
That’s because of Hollis, my brain points out.And you fixed that.
It could be more than just Hollis, I argue with myself. There’s no point getting my hopes up.
Focus on football.That’s a third voice. It’s possible I’m unwell.You don’t need this distraction, it points out unhelpfully.
Everybody shut up.
“A great game like that and you’re still over here scowling, Pemberton.” A voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see that Jett has taken the seat next to me. Friendship wise, I’m closer to the guys on defense than I am to the ones on offense, but Jett is our QB, our leader. He’s everyone’s friend. And considering he used to have a grumpy reputation himself—back before he reconnected with his now-wife, Ava—he understands me better than most of the team, besides Charlie.
“Ask anyone,” I say with a wry smile. “They’d tell you this is just my face.”
He chuckles. “I know you. You’re thinking about what to improve next game.”
