I straighten, shaking my head. Slowly, I turn, finding that one of the staff security guards has begun directing people to the front of the building. I make a note to stay and sign shit for each and every one of them.

On the end is Parker with Agent Samuels not far off. Is this what I wanted her to see? No. Not at all. But I’m not talking about just this shit show of a practice.

I’m not sure I want her to see me taking this shit because maybe she’s right.

Win or lose, I shouldn’t have to.

* * *

Josh is long gone by the time I get to the locker room and have a shower. When I come out, I swear, even though there are contents in it, his locker looks a bit empty. I grab my phone.

You straight?

Josh

I’m over it.

Why don’t I cruise over?

Parker can come hang with Lo and we’ll play some Madden.

Josh

Not tonight, Fitzy.

I curse under my breath.

Will I see you at practice tomorrow?

He doesn’t answer, but another text comes through.

I’m so down that seeing her updated name doesn’t even lift me up.

Mrs. America

You okay? That was intense.

I’m in the lobby. Someone from the team brought me in.

I need five. Just got out of the shower.

Is there still a crowd out front?

Mrs. America

A lot. Mostly kids. Lots of them in your jersey.

Try to get them to stay.

I skip the ice bath today, which I know I’m going to regret, especially considering I ran more in one practice than I did all of training camp. But I’ll deal with that later. Right now? I’d walk out of here in a towel if that wouldn’t make things more inappropriate on a family day.

Minutes later, I’m on my way out of the locker room and open the fridge for a Gatorade when a trainer calls my name.

“Coach is looking for you.”

I hang my head in the cool air of the fridge, grabbing a bottle before I make my way down the hall to Coach’s office. And then I turn around, deciding that it’s probably not the time to hammer shit out when I’m this angry and embarrassed.

“Fitzy.”

I turn, finding Coach halfway in the doorway. He takes off his Rebels hat and tips his head toward his office before he steps in, disappearing from my sight.

Hanging my head, I trudge forward.

“Go on and close that door,” Coach tells me as I enter his office. “And take a seat.”

I close the door but don’t sit. Coach’s heavy stare lets me know that’s what he wants me to do.