Page 6 of Homecoming

I glanced at Lance after hearing the stiff tone he used. He stood taller, his shoulders rigid, his fists balled into thigh fists. But his eyes were smiling.

I almost burst out laughing, but I got control of myself knowing there were people around us, and that our every move was being watched.

“Yeah,” I spat. I took a step closer to him, bringing us nose to nose. “It’s going to be like that. You’re not getting past me this season, Berg.”

“Drink tonight?” Lance asked under his breath so as to not be heard, and my hard mask cracked a little, a smile pulled a side of my mouth up.

“Uhn-uhn-uhn,” Lance chastised, seeing the beginning of my smile, forcing me to stay in character.

I didn’t even know why I had agreed to this little game we had going, but the fans and the teams loved it.

I took a step back, and muttered, “I’ll get back at you on that one, I have something to do.”

“Everything cool?” he was quick to ask.

I guess I wasn’t that good of an actor after all if he could see something on my face that indicated the shit swirling around me.

“Yeah, everything’s cool, just some family stuff.”

I started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my elbow, demanding my attention.

Once I gave it to him, he said, “You know I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through it alone, whatever it is.”

Shit, but Lance Berg was a good guy, a good friend.

I got drunk one night during our rookie year, and after some light encouragement and heavy drilling, I spilled all my history to him. The next day, I woke up, scared shitless that I was going to read all about it on the internet. I half-expected to find a cluster of reporters in front of the hotel we were staying in at the time, claiming I was a disgrace to the team, for the sport itself and demanding that I was to be dropped because of what I had done. But none of it came.

All I got was a loud bang on my door, and after I opened it, dreading what was on the other side, I found Lance standing there, holding coffee and a white takeout bag.

We never talked about it after, but he had my back and was behind me every step of the way.

“I know, Lance, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

I gave him a low wave and walked out in the sun.

The moment I stepped out of the tunnel, microphones were shoved in my face, and people started yelling questions left and right, but I ignored them all and walked slowly to the garages.

I had to get into my break room, needed to take a moment of complete silence. It was funny, once I loathed the silence and what would come after it in that trailer park, yet now I craved it.

Everything was always loud around me, there was never a moment of peace. I left peace behind a long time ago on those steps, with Lola.

Why was I thinking about her today? Why was she suddenly at the forefront of my mind?

It wasn’t like I didn’t get texts or phone calls that brought my childhood and what I’d done right up to my face. It happened, and in the last few years, it happened frequently.

But, memories of her never came with them.

When I left home, I left her there.

So why was she tormenting me now?

“Move back!”

I barely heard the shout of security that hurried my way to save me from the mob. They were trying to get them to back off without shoving anyone. Reluctantly, the crowd let me through, and I took a semblance of a breath.

“Thanks, guys,” I muttered, not lifting my head up.

I pulled the rim of my baseball hat lower to shield my eyes from the sun, and walked on.