Pass Interference (25 page)

He kissed the back of her neck near her ear. “I’ll think about it.”

Over the following weeks while his knee healed, Philip continued to work on his upper body strength using weights and other low-impact equipment. Sara drove Philip to physical therapy, which he scheduled between her classes. Jerry, his athletic trainer, put Philip through his paces. He was relentless, but it was worth it. By March, Philip was cleared for higher impact activities, so he started to jog on the school’s track. Now and then, Sara even ran with him.

He also spent some time with the EFU baseball team’s pitching coach. He didn’t relish the idea of playing baseball again after his heart and soul were set on football, but he didn’t hate it as much as he did the first time Coach Williams had suggested it. He knew it would never be his passion the way football was, but it was good exercise, both mentally and physically. He found the strategic thinking process of trying to outwit a hitter similar to the process he went through as a quarterback, trying to outwit the opposing team’s defense.

It was now early April, off-season for football. Now and then, Philip would hang out with some of his Barracudas teammates. The draft was a few weeks away, and it looked like Carter would be a third- or fourth-round pick. He was happy for his friend.

It was also more than halfway through the college baseball season, and during this particular outing, the team was getting pummeled. It was late in the game, and they were down by five runs. Conceding the impending loss, Coach Williams figured this would be a good time for Philip to try pitching in an actual game. He pulled the starting pitcher in the seventh inning and brought Philip in as his third reliever in the top of the ninth. With one batter out and a man on third, Philip faced the heart of the order. The first batter bunted, figuring Philip wouldn’t easily bounce off the mound to throw him out. The runner on third scored, and now Philip had a man on first base to contend with, a player who was known for stealing bases.

Despite the fact it was a losing effort for the team, Philip treated it like the championship series. He kept his eye on the runner on first and ended up picking him off on his way to steal second. Then he struck out the next batter in seven pitches.

Sara leaped up from her seat in the stadium, cheering madly when Philip got that third out. Philip took his cap off and waved at her as he jogged off the pitcher’s mound. Her smile was radiant and her eyes were filled with pride. He laughed at the sight of her leading the cheering section after she had poked fun at cheerleaders for so long. Turned out she was his biggest cheerleader and a very different girl from the one he met six months earlier. They’d both changed.

Still, his personal victory felt hollow somehow. Philip would be graduating from EFU in a month or so, and if things had been different, he would have been anticipating signing a contract by now. He would have known which team was likely to select him, and he would have been planning life in another city. Instead, he wasn’t sure what his next step was, except he’d probably move back to Naples to help out with his parents’ business while Sara finished out her last two years of school. He’d be only a couple hours south of Orlando, and they would see each other as often as they could. He reassured Sara that this wouldn’t be the end of their story, merely a new chapter.

»»•««

He was in the locker room changing out of his uniform when Coach Fairchild called his name from the doorway. “Mason, my office as soon you’re dressed.”

Philip scowled at the command, wondering what his old football coach wanted him for. Did he do something wrong? Was he being cut from the team? At this stage of his college baseball career, it didn’t much matter. Still, he was awfully curious, so he yanked on his shorts, zipped up, and quickly rolled his T-shirt over his head and torso. He collected his wallet and phone from his locker.

He knew that Sara was waiting for him in the bleachers, so as he headed out of the locker room, he texted her to say he’d been delayed.

»»•««

When Philip arrived at the coach’s office, the door was open. Inside, he saw Coach Fairchild seated behind his desk and another man sitting in one of the chairs across from him. The man’s back was toward Philip, but if he didn’t know better, he’d think it was his father. Then he heard the man’s voice.

“Dad?”

The man rose from the chair and turned around. “Hey kiddo.”

Philip walked farther into the office and his father embraced him. Stunned, Philip asked, “What are you doing here? Is Mom okay? The twins?”

Smiling broadly, Philip’s father laughed and pointed to his own face. “Look at me. Do I look like I have bad news?” He placed his hands on Philip’s arms. “I have some potentially great news, Phil. I wanted to tell you in person.”

Coach Fairchild gestured toward a chair across from his desk. “Sit down, Mason.” Reacting to the skeptical expression on Philip’s face, the coach said, “Relax, son. All is well.” Philip cautiously took a seat.

Sitting down in the chair beside Philip’s, his father spoke enthusiastically. “I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I’ve been working on a few things behind the scenes.”

“Things? What things?”

“Deals. I’ve got two teams that are serious about taking a look at you.”

Philip blinked. “Pro football teams?”

“Of course!” His father laughed. “What do you think I’m talking about? Baseball?”

“Well, yeah. Over Christmas you said I should keep an open mind about other sports.” Philip shook himself. “Dad, is…is this for real?”

“Your father is telling you the truth,” Coach Fairchild chimed in. “Joe came to speak to me because the scouts want to see you in action and he asked me to set up an exhibition game.”

Philip’s eyes went wide. “Wh-When?”

“Next week,” the coach replied matter-of-factly.

Philip stared at the coach, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Panicking, he turned toward his father. “Dad! I…I haven’t played in a game in months.”

Philip’s dad placed a calming hand on his son’s forearm. “It’s fifteen minutes, Philip. One quarter’s worth. The scouts are well aware of your talent, son. But they haven’t seen you play much since the early part of last season, and they just want to see that your knee is healthy enough,” his father explained. “Philip, this is good news. It’s what we’ve been praying for.”

When Philip didn’t react, the coach weighed in. “Philip, Jerry—your trainer—tells us you’ve made amazing progress.”

Philip nodded but showed no emotion, except to say, “He’s a great physical therapist. I doubt I’d have come this far without him.”

“He’s the best. That’s why we assigned him to you,” the coach explained. “We knew if anyone could bring you back, it was him.”

When his son continued to show no excitement, a worried look washed over Joe Mason. He turned his head and spoke to the coach. “Um. John, can we have a minute alone?”

Coach nodded and got out of his chair. “Take your time,” he said. He left his office and closed the door behind him.

“Son, talk to me. What are you worried about?”

Philip got out of his chair and started to pace. He rubbed his fingers against the palm of his other hand. “I don’t know, Dad. This is all so sudden, so out of the blue. For months, I’ve been preparing myself for the worst.”

“But you’ve been hoping for the best, I know you have.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No, no buts, kiddo. This is our big chance!” He walked over to his son and gently hit Philip’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Come on. You can do this, Phil. We’ve been preparing for this moment for years.”

He squinted at his father. “You really think I’m ready?”

“Absolutely. Hey, you told me you’ve been working out, running, pitching.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve been doing everything but playing football.”

“Eh.” Joe waved his hand back and forth. “It’s like riding a bicycle.”

Philip finally smiled. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

“You have a week to get ready, Phil. That’s plenty of time. Fairchild already told your offensive coach that he needs to be at your disposal all week. He’s gonna work with you as much as you need.”

Philip thought for a moment and then he finally asked, “Which teams?”

Philip’s father exhaled. “That’s more like it. You’re gonna love this.” His father paused for effect. “Miami and Atlanta. It’s gonna happen, kiddo. You can do it!”

Miami was Philip’s favorite team growing up, and his father was well aware of that. Philip licked his lips. The cobwebs finally began to clear and reality started to set in. This was really happening. “I can…Yes…I can. And I will.” He was beginning to feel his old confidence returning. He embraced his father warmly, feeling a little choked up. “I don’t know what to say, Dad. Except…you’re the best.”

“No son, that would be you.”

As he hugged his father, he remembered that Sara was waiting for him. He was dying to tell her the news. Taking a step back, he said, “Listen, Sara’s outside expecting me…”

“Go. Go tell her.” His father shooed him away. “I’ll work out the rest of the details with Coach Fairchild. Tell Sara I’m gonna take the two of you out to dinner tonight.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He gave his father another hug.

Philip sprinted out of the coach’s office. He was aware he’d been doing much better lately. In fact, he rarely limped anymore, and the pain was gone for the most part. But to get a shot like this was beyond his wildest dreams. No, not beyond—it
was
his wildest dream.

Out in the hallway, he clasped Coach Fairchild’s hand. “Thank you, Coach. Thank you.”

»»•««

From her seat in the stands, Sara gazed out at the empty ball field. She and Philip had made plans to meet up after the game at their usual spot in the bleachers. They often met here after a game or after practice or after a workout.

Glancing at the display on her phone, she saw it was now nearly four thirty. Philip had texted her about forty minutes ago to say he’d be late. Her first thought was that he was hurt, that maybe he’d pulled a muscle winding up a pitch or jogging off the mound. He was in pretty decent shape these days, considering everything he had gone through, but he often said he wasn’t quite what he once was, and she worried about him out of habit. She slipped her phone back in the pocket of her shorts.

It was a hot April afternoon, and the sun was inching lower in the sky, making her feel wistful. With her elbows resting on her knees, she clasped her fingers together as if she were praying. She knew her time with Philip was inching away as well, and it felt like they were running out of time. Even if the relationship were to continue after Philip graduated, things wouldn’t be the same. They couldn’t be. He’d be in another town living a different life, while she remained in the academic world, maybe taking classes over the summers so she could graduate a little sooner.

As a couple, this was the only world the two of them knew—the world in which they loved each other. Out there in the real world—well, who knows what might happen? Her pessimistic nature told her they would probably just naturally drift apart. He might meet someone new or decide she was not what he thought he wanted. He’d tell her it had been great fun while it lasted, but that was another time and space. It was time to turn the page, write a new passage of the essay. Who knows, maybe she’d wind up meeting someone new, too. After all, she never expected to meet and fall for Philip, so it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that something unexpected awaited them both.

These were the things Sara lost sleep over these days. No matter how much Philip tried to reassure her, he had no crystal ball. Neither of them did. He knew she was scared, but he didn’t know how scared. The truth was, the prospect of facing the future without Philip by her side actually terrified her. He gave her strength and confidence and joy she’d never known before meeting him. She liked herself more when she was with him than she liked herself before they met.

She knew it was foolish to be so dependent on another individual, but she couldn’t help it. It was so ironic, because she was the one who was supposed to be his teacher. Yet he had taught her far more than she taught him. Philip was the man who opened her eyes to the fact that things weren’t black and white, that labels were meant for clothing, not people. He was the one who opened her heart, who explored her body, who invited her into his family, who loved her unconditionally, who carried her through the waters. Without him as her buoy, she was afraid she would sink.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. She reached inside her pocket and read Philip’s text.
On my way
, it said.

A moment later, there he was. “Hey!”

Sara lifted her head as soon as she heard the sound of Philip’s voice. Her face immediately brightened and her demeanor instantly transformed. She smiled as she watched him climb the bleacher steps, two at a time. He looked happier than she’d seen him look in ages. Happy and healthy and no sign of a limp.

He slid onto the bench beside her and took her in his arms, kissing her softly. “Sorry I’m late, babe.”

“It’s okay, you’re worth waiting for,” she said, running her hand over his hair. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He released her and looked down at the field below. “Coach Fairchild called me into his office.”

“What did he want?”

“You won’t believe this. My dad was in his office.”

“Your father’s here?”

Philip nodded. “He’s been in discussions with a couple of teams about me.”

Sara suddenly felt nervous. “In discussions? What does that mean?”

Philip took a deep breath. “It means these teams are looking at me as a…as a potential draft pick.”

Sara’s jaw dropped. “Philip! That’s incredible.”

“Don’t get too excited,” he cautioned. “The scouts want to see me in game conditions. Coach Fairchild is arranging an exhibition game.”

“Oh my God, Philip. Just for you? I mean just so the scouts can see you play?” Her nervousness turned to elation. She knew this was exactly what Philip had always wanted.