Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Me: You’re going to see me at camp tomorrow. Isn’t that enough?
Blake Boden: Not even close. Yesterday, I barely even got to talk to you.
Me: What if I promise to talk to you more? Will that be enough, then?
Blake Boden: Doubtful.
Me: But isn’t it better than nothing?
Blake Boden: Absolutely. When it comes to you, I’ll take anything I can get.
Anything he can get? I should probably be annoyed by the confidence and his clichéd words, but my mouth really wants to smile.
I suck my lips into my mouth and type out a dismissal instead.
Me: Bye, Blake.
Blake Boden: Have a good day, Lexi Lou.
Lexi Lou. My first and middle name—a combination only the people closest to me ever use. The list has shrunk over the years, making it all the more disarming to hear it from someone like him. I can’t decide if I hate it or if I kind of…don’t.
Sighing hard, I push at the rampant flapping of butterfly wings in my stomach and tuck my phone back into my purse, hoping to trap the feelings right along with it.
My mind is a mess, but at least one thing is crystal clear.
I most definitely need to update my app to test the compatibility of opposites, and Blake Boden and I are subject zero.
Wednesday, May 28th
Blake
From the moment camp started today, things have been different. Instead of avoiding me, Lexi’s been involved and engaged, going so far as to participate in some of the drills while I coach her and the kids.
Eye contact hasn’t been impossible like it usually is, and for the first twenty minutes, I wondered if she’d fallen and bumped her head at some point after we talked yesterday.
It’s almost as if…she likes me.
And it’s kind of freaking me out.
“Okay, guys. This time, we’re going to break left, juke one, two, and then cut back right,” I instruct my group of attentive and excited kids. “Your marks are the five yard line and the ten yard line. Spread out so you have room between you and the person beside you, okay? We don’t need any injuries.”
The kids shuffle their feet from side to side with their arms up and out, looking at their neighbor to make sure they’re not touching, and dropping into position as they’ve been taught. Lexi is at the end of the line but does the same. I blow the whistle to signify the start of the drill, and they all take off on the designated route at whatever their full speed is.
Quinn Bailey stands in the end zone and picks a kid to toss the ball to in the center of the group, sailing it right into his hands with ease. All the kids cheer in excitement, and Quinn does a little victory dance.
In the other end zone, Sean does drills with the kids who think they’d like to try their hand at quarterbacking, catching while they make passes to him and employing the techniques Quinn and I taught them earlier.
Teeny wasn’t able to come back to camp today due to some of his professional obligations with his contracted sports network SportsCast, but everyone has certainly missed his humor.
I blow the whistle and clap my hands, calling all the kids into a mob in front of me. Lexi and Quinn hang back to talk to each other—a regular occurrence I’m starting to get used to with how close they are.
“Okay, guys! You did awesome!” I encourage them with a big smile. “Go get water and take a five-minute break. Don’t forget to stretch and keep your muscles loose and warm. When we come back, we’re going to run some strip-the-ball drills.”
The kids take off for their water bottles on the sideline, cheering and jabbering on the way, and I stroll to the center of the end zone to meet up with QB and Lex.
“Going well so far, Boden,” Quinn comments. “What’s up next?”
“Strip-the-ball drills,” I comment and waggle my eyebrows. “With you and me playing running back.”
“Oh boy.” Quinn’s chuckle is devious and amused. “You know I’m a dual-threat quarterback, don’t you? I’m gonna burn you so bad on this one, Boden.”
I laugh, but to my surprise, so does Lexi, coming to my defense with facts. “Blake’s a dual threat too, Quinn, and he’s not retired. I wouldn’t get too cocky if there’s going to be a competition.”
I smile, hedging, “I wasn’t planning on a competition, but maybe that would make it interesting. What’d you have in mind, QB?”
“How about whoever maintains possession the most times wins?” He winks. “I may be old, but my hands are sticky like glue, baby boy.”
I chuckle. “I don’t know if that’ll be the best for the kids’ self-esteem. Pretty sure we’re supposed to teach technique but motivate.”
“Yeah, Quinn, we’re not here for you to get some glory. We’re here for the kids,” Lexi teases, and Quinn’s so easygoing, he just laughs and shrugs.