Page 51 of The Battery
I followed him back down the aisle where we both crashed into two free seats abutting one of the dividers of the players’ seating. With enough leg room and separation, and also the drone of the plane, we had plenty of privacy for a quiet conversation.
“I take it the talk went well?” he asked.
I sat closer to the window. My legs extended out, feet crossed at the ankles. I had been waiting for this. “Mostly.”
“Great. The game today against the Brawlers?” He made a chef’s kiss gesture. “Have you been teaching him how to ignore the crowd?” I nodded an affirmative. “If he can take his mind off of the crowd during an away game with Brooklyn, then he can withstand anything. It was impressive for a rookie. Talk about a pressure test. And Quinn?”
I noticed he spat the man’s name out. “I mean I wouldn’t know,” I said sarcastically. “I’ve never actually punched the guy.” It was all the sports networks played after the throwdown between our teams last year—an endless loop of Romo throwing his fist at Quinn.
Romo scoffed. “I never realized how much it actually hurts your own hand.”
I shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Anyway,” he said. “I don’t know how you did it, but the two of you are a dream team out on the field. Whatever you guys talked about worked. Depending on Cody’s performance for the rest of the regular season, and really depending on what happens in postseason, he’s looking at a bonus.” Then he pointed a finger at me. “Don’ttell him that.”
I held up my hands in a defensive posture. “I’m no snitch.”
“I know, I know.” He turned to look forward. There was something else he wanted to say. I could see the wheels spinning in his mind on how best to approach. Mr. Perfect, concocting The Perfect Thing to say.
So I got ahead of it. “We’re just friends,” I offered up. “And we’re on the same page there. We spent the All-Star break figuring it out. We’re both okay with doing the friends thing.” That seemed to disappoint him. I added, “For now.”Thatgot a rise out of him.
“If there’s anything I can do, let me know,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe bunk us up together again.”
He punched my shoulder at that and then stood. “He’s lookin’ pretty lonely back there, by the way.” He gestured with his head toward the rearmost area of the players’ section. He walked up the aisle toward our usual spot and I stood to peer beyond the partition.
I scanned the dimly lit section. Rookies typically sat toward the back. The seats were all the same, but for some reason seniority manifested itself by proximity to the exit.
There he was, tucked in the very back. The seat beside him remained empty. The closest sat catty-corner, with a wall behind. Mostly private. Low lighting…
I crashed down in the open seat next to him. He had the seat reclined, a Riders-branded blue blanket covering his legs. He had on the headphones I gifted him and was tapping through a game on his tablet.
That smile he hit me with when I sat down. More than friendly. Less than excitement. It was… content. Pleased I was there. Like I was meant to be.
Cody pushed back one side of his headphones as I asked, “What are you playing?”
He turned the tablet and what I saw hit me in the heart and the gut.
Freecell.
“My uncle’s been teaching you?” I asked, and fought like hell to keep my voice from quivering.
Cody wobbled his head. “Not really. Trying to learn on my own. I want to play a game with him the next time I come over. This game is way harder than solitaire. Do you know how to play?”
I nodded, then leaned over. The arm rests in these seats were wider so I had to make an effort. Our arms touched, my templenearly pressing into his. I could smell his shampoo. I wanted to bury my nose in his hair.
With a hand I pointed toward one of the stacks of cards. “Since one of the aces is buried there, you should work on getting that one out first. That king halfway down is gonna be the biggest obstacle.”
“What do you recommend?”
My eyes scanned the cards. I raced to find something to say but my mind was so preoccupied by a need to touch him. “The queen. Over there. Build on that. See the ace and two already in her stack?”
He tapped through the movements to organize everything. He turned his head a fraction. “Now what?”
I exhaled a barely-there laugh from my nose. “Who’s playing this game, me or you?”
Then he looked right at me. The tablet lowered a fraction. “You.”
