Something flashes in the corner of my eye, pulling my attention toward the gym entrance as the door is closing. It’s Levi, walking across the lot with his head down and looking at his phone.
“Hey,” I call out, sticking my head out the window of my truck. “What are you doing?”
Levi stops, staring at me like I’m an alien who just landed in front of him in a spaceship. “What are you doing here?”
“Stalking you.” I shake my head and then start nodding as I hold up my binoculars. “No, really, stalking you.”
“Okay,” he says, swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder as he sashays up to my truck. “Why?”
“I’m on an apology tour.”
“Like that TV show Mom used to watch—My Name is Earl?”
“Good show.”
“Best. Seriously. Is that why?”
“I wanted to see if you'd throw a football with me.”
I swear Levi stops breathing. “Of course…but—”
“Will you get in my truck?”
“We’re good, right?” he asks as he takes the first step.
“We’re fine. We’ve been fine since our call the other day. More than fine, really.” I push my fingers through my hair. “Just get in. I want to show you something.”
“And toss a ball?” he asks, walking around to the passenger door.
I wait until he’s in the car and belted in.
“Maybe.”
“You’ve been coming here every week for months to work out with the high school team?” Levi stares at me incredulously.
Our old alma mater. The one place I found safety, besides my house, for the last year.
“Yep,” I say, grabbing a football from the sack by the benches. We’d arrived just as the kids were wrapping up their morning drills, the coach recognizing my truck as we pulled in. “I started by coming and being their waterboy. I was desperate to get out of the house.”
“Desperate?” Levi laughs. “I thought you were a recluse.”
“I thought I was going to turn into one, and I didn’t want to.” I take the ball and hold it in the air. “Go long.”
Levi jogs away and I let the ball go, watching it spiral perfectly through the air as he catches it with ease. Grinning, he holds the ball high.
“Good one. Like you’ve not been gone at all.” He tosses it in the air and catches it. “Want me to throw it back?”
I point about fifty feet ahead of me with a grin. “Throw it that way.”
Levi tilts his head, giving me a doubtful look. “You sure?”
“Trust me,” I reply, getting into position with my heart pounding. As soon as he releases the ball, I’m off like a shot. I can feel the wind whipping past me, my feet barely touching the ground as I sprint toward my target. I push through the familiar but dull and lessened ache of my Achilles injury, feeling more alive than I have in months. The ball arcs high against the clear sky, a perfect spiral of orange and white against the backdrop of autumn leaves.
The world narrows to just me and that descending ball. Time seems to slow as I stretch out my arms, eyes locked on the ball. I position myself perfectly underneath it, and with a satisfying thud, I catch it, cradling it against my chest.
Levi’s cheers pierce through the air, his voice echoing with excitement as he jumps and pumps his fist. “Holy…DUDE!” He dashes over to me, eyes wide with amazement. “What just happened?”
I quickly fill him in on the good news I’d gotten from Emma, along with the update from my coach that I could get back to practice once I’d passed the last assessment, and we high-five.
