Waiting on the Sidelines

24. And After

Ten weeks. That meant five games. Reed wouldn't suit up for his senior homecoming match up, and there was a chance the Bears wouldn't make the playoffs unless Kyle, Reed's back-up, could pull off a miracle. He had only thrown the ball in a few games, and only when they were blow outs.

Reed had been back at his dad's house for almost two days, and I still hadn't seen him. He had called me the night he got home, but said he was going to bed early, tired and trying to get things settled. He promised to make it up to me yesterday, but then the entire day came and went without a single phone call.

His texts and phone calls to me grew less and less while he was at his mother's house. I tried to keep it in the rational box that told me he was dealing with this life-changing trauma, and fear that he wouldn't be the same. And I knew that mostly that's what it was. But I couldn't seem to equal out how he could be shutting me out now when I had so much to offer. I could be his rock, and wanted to be so desperately. I couldn't help but think that his mother's opinion of me wasn't at play just a little, either.

I drove to campus for volleyball workouts and stopped on my way into the gym to peer out at the football field. I saw Reed's profile standing next to his coach on the sidelines. He was talking to him and pointing at things while Kyle was working passing drills. Kyle wasn't Reed, and that was clear from even this far away. But he wasn't bad.

Heading into the women's locker room, I let my mind get carried away, wondering if Reed would be waiting for me after practice, or if he even realized I was here. I was navigating unknown territory, and I didn't know how to handle it. Reed was distant, but he still told me he loved me and spoke sweetly, when he spoke.

When I led the freshmen through running drills up and down the stairs, my mind flashed back to the first time I locked eyes with Reed as he flung open the heavy metal doors to the gym lobby. Those doors remained tightly closed each time we ran by today, but I still expected to see him standing there every time I passed through anyhow.

When practice was over, I packed up my gym bag slowly, letting everyone leave before me. I even thought about taking a quick shower before I left, something I had only done two or three times ever. But I knew I was just stalling. I was so afraid of walking out that door and seeing the dark lights over the football field and Reed long gone. He was driving Buck's raised Ram truck, waiting on the settlement from the accident to see what they could do about his Jeep. I willed that truck to appear in my mind and held on to the hope that it would.

When I finally walked through the gym lobby and let the warm desert evening air hit my face I shut my eyes for a moment, not wanting to know if he was there or gone. When I opened them and saw him sitting on the wall, I felt my lungs fill with air for the first time in days. His hat was backwards, his hair a little longer than normal and tucked behind his ears, curling out from the bill of his hat. He was wearing his long basketball shorts, Nike sandals and my favorite gray T-shirt; his cast, which now boasted a few signatures, was resting on his leg.

I bit my lip a little as I walked over to him slowly. I was nervous, like I was just now introducing myself to this guy who knew me so intimately. It was strange, and I missed the comfort we used to have.

"Hey, you," I said softly, trying to gauge his mood.

"Hey, yourself," he smiled faintly, reaching his hand up to take mine and sliding off the wall. He moved into me and kissed me softly. "I missed you."

I could still see the shimmer in his eye, but it was faded, worn. He seemed tired. Reed walked me silently over to my car, and I felt my hand sweating in his, something that had never happened before. The closer we got to my car, the more worried I was becoming, afraid that the next words from his lips were going to be to break up with me. I was so lost in these thoughts that when he finally did speak, I jumped a little.