Page 56 of Coach Me
Oh my gosh, I’m getting Dex to talk.Finally! I haven’t fully broken through his stony demeanor, but the chip from this morning is definitely a crack now. I can see some of the light I know he’s hiding behind thatweight of the worldandstressed dadarmor he’s wearing.
I put one slice of my pizza from earlier on a plate and pop it in the microwave. “So, how’d the game turn out? Miles and I didn’t make it to the end.”
“We won by three runs. I think I’m secure enough to admit that your brother’s a damn powerhouse. Between him and the changes Olsson’s made, I think we could have a World Series season if we keep it up.”
Dex steals a cold pepperoni off one of his slices. I wish he had just made his food first, I’m really not even that hungry, but I don’t want to mess up this progress I’m making.
“Hey, I love my brother, but the main thing the Blues needed for a winning season was Olsson. The last GM was a joke.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Dex agrees right awaythen pauses. “You watched our last season? Wasn’t Will playing for the Mavericks?”
I nod and turn to watch the time on the microwave. Not sure how it’ll come off to Dex that I’ve always loved watching him play…maybe I’ll just stick to the Blues in general.
“I guess I should come clean. I’ve always been a fan of the Blues. Will may be my favorite player, but?—”
Dex gives me a rare chuckle, and I really like it. “Why’d you say it like that?”
“Like what?” I look at him for one second, and just as I do, the microwave beeps. “Ah, fudge,” I mumble and whip back around, opening the door to make the noise stop.
“You put a weird emphasis on favorite. Almost as if Will isn’t actually your favorite.”
Yeah, because technically he’s not.
I turn back to the island, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and avoiding all eye contact. “Microwave’s all yours.”
“Changing the subject won’t work,” Dex says.
“What? Will is my favorite.” I step around him to sit on the barstool as he puts his food in the microwave next.
“Will is your brother; he’s a different kind of favorite. So, him aside—who’s your favorite?”
“No, no way. I stand by my answer.”
“Oh, come on, you have another favorite. Tell me.”
Not happening.
“I changed my mind. Can you go back to ignoring me now?” I joke.
Dex doesn’t look my way, and for a minute I’m afraid he actually might. But then I see the corner of his mouth tilt up. It’s not a big smile or his laugh, but the crack is still there.
“Alright, I’ll find outeventually.”
“You know now—it’s Will!”
Dex shakes his head and opens the microwave before the beep sounds. He sets his plate on the counter across from me. He doesn’t walk around to sit on the extra barstool like he did earlier.
Winning over Dex Larsen seems like it might be a rather slow process, but at least now I think I’ve actually taken some steps.
He doesn’t say anything while we finish our slices. Other than my quiet “thank you” when he takes my plate, it’s a peaceful silence instead of the normal tension-filled one.
Dex takes them over to the sink. I prep my small good night spiel because I’m sure he’s exhausted, but he turns back around and speaks first. “Hey, I wanted to tell you thank you for the pictures of Miles today. I really appreciated it.”
I swallow down my squeal. “You’re welcome. I hope it wasn’t too annoying.”
“No, it was…great. If I can’t be with him, it’s nice to see what he’s doing and know he’s having a good time.” Dex sighs, avoiding eye contact again.
It’s not that I can feel him reverting back to the complete shutdown he would usually give me, but I’ve pushed enough for tonight.
