Four strangers from different walks of life meet on a cruise and spend an unforgettable week together. All of them on their own self-discovering journeys, and onboard for different reasons.
Texan heiress and ballet prodigy, Brooklyn Brankovich, lon...
"Yo, Trainer Noah," one of the basketball players said and they all surrounded my office. "When will Trainer Hailey be back?"
I stood against the wall and shrugged. "She just had a baby, I don't know. I heard she won't be back."
"Damn, she got pregnant that fast? I swear she just started," Jabari commented.
Dante said, "Oh, i'ght, you cool and all, though," and dapped me up.
"Let me get some ice," his teammate, Wayne, hollered, eying the ice machine.
I tossed him a small paper cup and told him to go crazy as they always did. In the two weeks I'd been there full time, I learned a lot about these kids. Well, I guess I'm only a few years older. Still, my job isn't bad at all, there's always something to do, from kids faking injuries to sit out of practice or just trying to use my heat pad and relax.
"Hey, Mr.Anderson," the same cheerleader from before said. She walked by with a trio of girls following her in their practice uniforms.
The basketball boys all called out for them, the captain of the team - Jabari - even followed a girl and threw his arm around her. I just laughed at their antics, remembering that's how I was when I was in school on campus a few years ago.
I'm not used to Mr.Anderson, I prefer Trainer Noah, but sometimes being called by my first name is too friendly with the kids. It's weird because we're close in age, but I feel too mature, and I'm definitely not worried about any of these girls.
"Damn, she wanted you," Dante said to me, sitting back on the medical bed like he was at home.
"Yeah, you get that all the time?" asked his teammate, Wayne.
I dusted off the black collared shirt I wore as a uniform with the khakis. I know, khakis are disgusting as Brooklyn would say, but I think I made it work.
My arms folded as I leaned against the counter and listened to them talk about how thirsty their classmates are.
"That's yo girl?" he asked another question, noticing the picture taped to the cabinet beside my head. I turned to look at it as if I forgot what picture it was, but it was my favorite one of us.
"Yeah, that's her," I smiled.
All along the cabinets were welcoming sticky notes from student-athletes who were each claiming to be my favorite and saying they're happy I'm here and that I'm the best. And they all made it a point for me to remember them before they "go pro." Everyone at CCU made me feel really welcomed, I felt right at home.
"She fire, though," Wayne said, staring at the other pictures. There were other pictures, like the ones of her playing volleyball - as well as the newspaper clippings about her games - or my other favorite picture. My eyes landed on the one he was talking about when he said it:
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