Page 22 of Sliding into Love
“Bardot. Got a few minutes to talk?”
He nods, adjusting the strap on his duffel bag. I pivot down the hall to the media room. It’s a big space to give me room to pace, and it’s tucked away from eyeballs. The less people who try to interrupt this or eavesdrop, the better.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“You,” I say, ripping off the Band-Aid.
“Me?”
“Yup! We need to talk about why you’ve been hiding yourself.”
“Hiding myself?”
I crack a smile as I start wearing a hole in the carpeted floor. Bardot drops into an empty chair in the auditorium-like seating.
“From the moment I first saw you play, I knew you had talent above so many others your age. Back then, I had no doubt you’d get drafted and be one of the greats. Then things changed.”
“They did,” he confirms, voice rough.
“I’ve never asked what happened to delay you, nor do I want to know now. The fact of the matter is that you came back a different person. You're still great, but the drive to be the best wasn’t there. You’ve been ok being in the shadows when you were meant to be in the bright lights.”
He chuckles. “That’s some imagery there, Kenny. I’m flattered you think this about me.”
“I know it’s true. As recently as last week, you were hitting and pitching in ways you don’t present on the field. It’s like you refuse to compete.”
When I look his way, I see him frowning. “I’m not sure how to take that. I do compete. Each game and practice, I make sure to do my part to help us win.”
“Yes, but what about within the team? You never want to beat the others to win MVP or to have the fans cheering your name the loudest. Why is that?”
His brow dips low at the intrusive question.
“Why does it matter?”
Taking a deep breath, I tell him the news we’ve managed to keep secret since it happened. Normally, this type of injury would be all over sports news by now. The Bellports slipped more than a few people some funds to give us time to gather statements and all that.
“It’s important because Tollide is out for the season. I need a star player, and management knows it’s you.”
“Tollide is out? What the fuck!?” He bolts up from his seat. “What happened? I haven’t heard anything. Coach said he was out sick.”
I lift my hands, palms facing him. “We made sure you didn’t hear anything before now. We’re telling the rest of the team today. I wanted a chance to talk to you first.”
“What happened to him?”
There’s an edge in his voice I can’t make sense of. I’ve never seen him and Tollide close to one another. If anything, they kept their distance.
“He was in a car accident. A hit and run. Both legs broken. Fractured ribs. Lots more damage along with a broken arm. He’s never going to play ball again.”
“FUCK!”His roar echoes around us.
Keeping still, I wait to see what he’s going to do next. If I’d known he’d get angry like this, I’d have asked someone else to come with me.
Not Royce. No need for them to be put in danger.
Maybe Security or Sandy.
“You can take a few days to think about it if you want. I do need to know if you’re going to step up by the end of the week though. Because if you won’t, then I’ll need to look into training someone else for the spot.”
His eyes whip to me. They’re full of fire and something else. Something that looks a lot like regret.
