Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
So here I was at Java Lava, snickering like an idiot while someone looking for a boost in their algorithm took a photo of a has-been football player. It would be funnier if they knew I had a crush on the guy lighting up my cell with yellow snow.
The playful banter continued over the next few days. I’d send a pic of a cereal box or my running shoes, and Cooper would hit back with a close up of his lumberjack mug—(luhm-buh-jak) noun. Or a silly emoji.
Your emoji game is strong. Is that a dad thing? I finally asked.
Cooper sent three laughing emojis. Probably. My kids communicate in hearts, thumbs-up or down, and devil signs.
Do they give u shit for ur perfect text grammar?
Angry emoji. Maybe. But yours isn’t so bad either. That’s the first u and ur I’ve noticed.
Ahhhh. So you’ve noticed.
I notice everything. It’s a blessing and a curse.
I was aware that my smile was a smidge too wide, but I didn’t care. That little exchange made my day.
Seriously. Two or three lines from Cooper interspersed with a dozen emojis was proof of life.
Everything else felt contrived and reactionary. I still hadn’t decided what to do about football. On one hand, I loved the idea of getting a chance to go out big, but after giving the Devils ten years, it seemed traitorous to sign on with a cross-town rival. On the other hand, the money was astronomical. And Ger was angling for a signing bonus too.
“I know it’s a lot to think about, Si. We gotta make it completely worthwhile,” he assured me. “In the meantime, you’re a go for the sparkling water commersh. It’s gonna be great!”
Alli agreed.
“If you feel physically up to it, I think you should one thousand percent go for it,” she advised. “I’m serious, Si. Take the money, take the opportunity, and make it happen. I’m on your side, and you know it. And I’ll tell any overzealous reporter who comes for us that you have my support.”
My parents told me to go for it, too. Dad loved the perks, and Mom liked that I had a job.
Val was more pragmatic.
“You’ve got another year in you for sure,” Val commented, shaking a stuffed bunny in front of his drooling daughter on a play mat in his living room. “But the Rangers? I can’t even imagine you in that fugly uniform…hurts my head. But you gotta do you.”
His wife, Naomi, agreed. She was a dark-skinned beauty with long straight hair and almond-shaped eyes who’d traded a modeling career for graphic design and now did freelance work for some of the biggest athletic wear companies in the world.
“Lawrence is right,” she said, leaning against her husband’s arm. “Be happy. Take the money and ride the publicity train with Alli and Liam the hunk Sutcliffe, a.k.a., the most beautiful man in the world.”
“Hey!” Vally glowered.
“Just kidding, hon.” Naomi winked, and pointed at my phone buzzing away on the coffee table. “Your text buddy is looking for you, Si.”
Val raised his eyebrows. “Text buddy? Got something you want to share?”
I held up a hand to shield Gigi’s impressionable eyes and flipped my friend off.
And yes, it was Cooper and yes, it was another silly text.
And yes…my smile was way too big for my face.
This went on for another week or so. These text exchanges were a bright light in a string of ho-hum days spent working out, playing video games, and haggling with Ger over endorsements and the big contract he wanted me to sign, pronto.
I wasn’t sure why I was dragging my feet. Seventy percent of me was sure I’d take the deal while the other thirty percent found the whole charade depressing. The hunt and the thrill of the game had been replaced by greedy machinations and the knowledge that I was prolonging my fear of facing life after football.
I couldn’t imagine sitting on my ass like this for…years. I needed a reason to wake up in the morning, and football was the only thing I knew how to do well.
I jumped off the treadmill, wiping sweat from my brow as a new text from Cooper popped up.
Sorry for the late response. It’s been a rough day. I want that chimp’s ice cream.
Oh…yeah. He hadn’t commented on the hilarious gif I’d sent of a chimpanzee eating rocky road.
I think you’re out of luck. I sent two ice cream emojis and on a whim added, You okay?
We’d avoided any touchy-feely exchanges so far. We didn’t share emotional baggage or hint at the fact that we’d once seen each other naked. Our texts were goofy and lighthearted, and I already wished I could unsend that last line.
But Cooper replied almost immediately.
I’ve been better.
Oh.
I bit my bottom lip and tried to think of what to say. Want to… Erase. Want to talk about it? Erase.