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But I’ll recover his beloved notebook if he insists.
I’ve checked the weight room, physical therapy offices, and even the Human Resources cubicles, all confirming it is missing. Last stop is his office, probably the place I should have thought to check first, but it’s also the farthest from the field.
Made sense in my head at the time.
Deciding to take a shortcut around the long corridor leading to staff offices, I mindlessly peer through the clear walls of other employee rooms, just in case he misplaced it there. But nothing.
It’s when I finally approach the end of the hallway that Coach’s office comes into view in my peripheral. Before I have a chance to pivot, I spot the brightest blonde hair and a neon yellow pair of Converse just outside the threshold of his door.
I’d know that combination anywhere.
New girl.
It’s been three months since Tenley Abrams joined the Strikers staff, and three months since she’s been a thorn in my side. But not the pokey kind of thorn that won’t go away and hurts like hell.
The kind of thorn that sticks to me like a second skin. The kind I can’t quite shake. What has me so fascinated by her?
Yes, she’s beautiful. Any person with a working set of eyes can see that. But there’s more to her…
I like to think of myself as an observant guy.
I’m mindful of my surroundings, and I have a pretty good read on people. It doesn’t take very long for myintuition to clue me in on whether someone is good people or not.
I believe Tenley is good people. But why? Why do I find myself watching her more than others? Not in a creepy way.
But I notice she’s always the one to hang back by herself. She’s invited to nearly every event or team bonding thing we do. But the majority of the time, she politely declines.
During the Makers staff meetings we have once a month, the ones all employees and players are required to attend, Tenley grabs a coffee from the cart and finds a seat at the back table while everyone mingles around her.
She’s never rude. Never avoids a conversation if approached. She’s just content alone. It’s almost as if she’s putting out feelers. My gut tells me she doesn’t trust easily and for a reason I don’t understand, which makes me sad for her.
It also makes me want to be the one person who pushes her past her comfort zone and forces her to come out of isolation. Forces her to make friends and be one of us.
I know from experience that doing life alone is, in fact, lonely.
Our initial conversation on her first day was the first sign of her introversion. Every other encounter since has been her either waving me off, running in the opposite direction, or rambling off petulant comments in a poor attempt to intimidate me.
It’ll take much more than fiery words to scare me away.
She has no idea how that only makes me want to work twice as hard to get a good read on her.
I could approach her. Might scare the shit out of her while I’m at it, but I’m more interested in learning whatshe’s doing in Leggins’ office while everyone else is either on the field practicing or off work, given it’s a Saturday.
As she enters his space, I take my opportunity to hustle behind her as quietly as possible and peer into the small window just outside the office. The blinds inside are raised enough for me to spot her just below where they stop.
But what I couldn’t see from where I was standing before was the basket full of random things in her arms. The basket she’s about to meticulously arrange into something quite extraordinary.
My chest pitters a bit with an unfamiliar feeling.
I knew Tenley was different. No matter how guarded and restricted she may come off, my assumptions were correct.
She’s misunderstood, and I can relate to that.
I watch as Tenley places the large basket on the edge of Coach’s desk and begins shuffling around the items inside. My eyes scan through a large bouquet of yellow daisies, a carefully wrapped heated blanket, multicolored beanies, bags of caramel hard candies, cherry lip balm, an empty photo album with ‘Leggins’ etched on the front, hand sanitizer, lotions, adult coloring books, and so much more.
That’s when it dawns on me. She put together a care package for him.
Well, for his wife, Taylor, to be specific.
