Overtime

4: The Call

I hear someone's phone ringing. I have no clue what time it is, but the sun has risen straight into my eyeballs. Why does Amber not close her blinds? We didn't go to bed until at least three this morning, and I feel it. I remember I threw my phone on the floor last night, not wanting to look at it anymore. I groan, standing up and looking under the bed for it. I snatch it, and it's my phone that's ringing—a Nashville number.

I answer, "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Miss Julia Cunningham?"

"Yes, this is her," I answer lazily.

"This is May from the Tennessee Titans. I am calling about your email reaching out about being a photographer."

My eyes widened, and I sat straight, perking at her words, "Yes! Thanks for getting back to me so soon." I am frozen, and I cannot move.

"We are very interested, Miss Cunningham. We would like you to visit a training day and take some photos."

Oh my God. No fucking way this is happening. "Of course. When should I come?"

"Are you available to come to the stadium at one today?"

I look at the clock; it's almost ten. Shit. "Yes! Of course."

"Perfect. I'll email you some instructions on getting inside the facility. Call me if you have any trouble. I look forward to seeing you."

"Thank you, bye now." I hang up and silently scream. This is happening. It's all happening so quickly.

I quietly gather my belongings, trying not to wake up my friends. It doesn't work because I hear Emma groan beside Riley on the pull-out couch, "Christ, Julia. Can you be a little quieter? What's with all the talking?"

I walk over to her, "A lady from the Titans just called. They want me to come in today at one to photograph practice."

Her eyes widened, and she sat up. Her hand immediately goes to her forehead. "Never drinking vodka crans again," she pauses and looks up at me. "Do you need help getting ready? I want to go home and shower." I shrugged and waited for her to get her things. My heart is beating a million miles a minute. I think I'm going to pass out or throw up. Why am I so nervous? I literally do this for a living. I do it all the time.

We ran down the streets of Nashville to our apartment. We were still in our pajamas. I only had an oversized T-shirt on and no pants. Hopefully, no one notices. I texted in our group chat when we got to the house, telling Riley and Amber what was happening. They both sleep in late; I doubt they'll answer for a while.

I hop in the shower quickly, scrubbing every inch of my body. I'm not sure who I am trying to impress. The Titans or Miles? I probably won't even see him. I'm not telling him I'm coming. Why should I? I mean, I'm only doing this because he mentioned it to me. If he didn't, I'd still be waiting for the first game of the college season to photograph. Maybe I am doing it for him. I don't know.

I'm freaking out. I stare at my closet, trying to figure out what to wear to make a great impression. Do I wear what I usually wear? Is the NFL different from college? It can't be that difficult. I grab a pair of khakis and a navy-fitted blouse; this should be okay. I dry my hair, leaving it naturally straight. I slip on my sneakers and pack my backpack of equipment. I'm ready.

I leave my bedroom and see my three best friends waiting for me in the kitchen. Amber hugs me, "Jules, I'm so happy for you! I hope this goes well." She just wants Miles and me to be together.

"You guys were never this supportive when I went to the colleges."

Emma shoves my shoulder, "Can we not be supportive of your new gig with grown men?"

I grab a banana for breakfast and laugh, "It can't be much different, right?"

"I mean, I think Vandy and State will be slightly different from the NFL. These guys can actually play football. I can't decide if I think the men will be nicer. I hope no one tells you what to do. It's not like you don't know how to take pictures," Amber says.

I grew up always taking pictures, and my mother gifted me a nice camera for Christmas in the tenth grade. I joined the yearbook club and learned about photography from the older kids. I was able to begin my photography career at Vanderbilt. I double majored in journalism and graphic design. I applied to be a student photographer for the athletic department and spent four years taking photos at every sports event. After graduating, they hired me as a full-time photographer for athletics, though I only enjoyed going to football and baseball games. I found the other sports boring.

"I'll definitely have an issue with a player telling me how to take a picture. I don't care what their favorite angle is." Unless Miles tells me his favorite angle. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I sigh, "What if I can't stop thinking about him? I will end myself before I make a first move."

Amber smiles, knowing I just confessed something. She grabs my hand and holds it in hers, "Julia, if it was meant to happen, it'll happen. Let nature take its course."

I furrow my eyebrows together, "What, no scheme of trying to get him to fall in love with me? Just let it be?"

Everyone laughs, "Now that, Julia, we are still plotting. We are waiting to decide what to do after your first day."

"What if Miles ends up being the worst dude in the world?"

"You always assume the worst in people. Stop that!" Riley cries.

"At least you can say you've danced with an NFL player," Amber says.

"Okay, I've decided I don't want to talk about him anymore. It's making my anxiety worse." I begin to bite my fingernails. I can't get him out of my head. I can only imagine what he looks like in his uniform. He probably looks so sexy.

Emma touches my shoulder, "Julia, you are going there for a job. I know you will act totally professional once you step foot in that stadium. It's good to let it out now."

I nod, agreeing with her, "Okay, I should probably go now." They all hug me. I pick up my bag and head to my car.