Authors: Jessica Miller
She headed back to the bench at the front of the stadium. There she watched as the last boy, little Deshante, threw a brand new ball up and down for himself. All the kids had been given footballs. Chris Watson had handed them out himself.
She smiled lightly before cursing herself silently. She had told herself in no uncertain terms not to think about Chris.
She’d warned herself again and again before she had even arrived at the stadium that morning not to let her fantasies run away with her. They tended to do that when she met her sports heroes. And Chris Watson was a particular trap.
She remembered being in college and watching him play with UCLA. The moment she saw him on the television screen, giving an interview on the sidelines with his helmet off, her heart had begun to beat faster in her chest. She had nursed a crush on him ever since.
Of course, when he was drafted to the NFL and immediately began to flaunt his money by drinking and partying, the flame she felt for him had dimmed a bit. Michelle had never been able to stand bad boys and she had a particular distaste for alcoholics. Although, he hadn’t seemed quite as arrogant in person. He was a little brash maybe, but he’d been very good with the kids.
It was a moot point anyway as Chris Watson was probably on his way to some club or bar by now. Michelle knew it was for the best that she would most likely never see him again.
“Harry, I can get home on my own. I’ve done it before.”
Michelle jumped and turned around. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest as Chris appeared, as though her thoughts had summoned him there.
“If you say so,” his agent Harry was saying as he walked behind him. “But if you get into more trouble, don’t expect me to cover for you.”
“Harry, I’ve just spent the whole day with you and a group of ten-year-olds,” Chris said as they moved closer to the bench where Michelle was sitting. “Do you really think I was sneaking drinks?”
“You never know,” Harry muttered.
“Thanks for your concern,” Chris said. “But, like I said, I’ll drive myself home.”
“Fine,” Harry answered, “but call me tomorrow.”
Michelle, despite herself, chanced a glance at the pair behind her. She saw the potbellied agent wave goodbye to Chris before heading to a covered parking lot reserved for players and staff.
She turned back to the visitor parking lot and took out her phone. She could hear Chris coming closer to her and she warned herself not to be flattered. Even if the one football player she’d been in love with since college had been trying to flirt with her all day, she wouldn’t, couldn’t get involved.
None the less, her pulse started to pound in her ears when Chris sat on the bench beside her.
“So, I guess you’ve got to wait until all the kids get picked up, huh?”
Michelle was still staring determinedly at her phone, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Chris nod in Deshante’s direction.
“That’s usually how it works,” she said.
“Mind if I wait with you?” he asked. “Even in the suburbs, it can get pretty dangerous after dark.”
“You can wait if you want,” she answered. “But, I think I can take care of myself.”
She heard him chuckle and the sound caused her to look up from her phone.
“You think I can’t?” she asked defensively. Being the only girl in a family of boys, not to mention being a girl who liked football, she was used to being underestimated. And though she hated to admit it, she was still very sensitive to it.
“I didn’t say that,” Chris said.
“You thought it,” Michelle answered. She saw him open his mouth to respond but, before he could, a small voice interrupted him.
“Mr. Watson?” it asked.
Michelle looked up to find Deshante standing awkwardly in front of them. He was holding the football each of the kids had been given in his hands and twirling it awkwardly.
“What’s up little man?” Chris asked with a smile at the skinny little boy.
“I was wondering . . . I . . . I didn’t get a chance to ask you to sign my ball. Could you sign it now?” He held it out to Chris.
“ Of course I will,” Chris said. He took the ball and reached into his pants pocket for a sharpie pen.
“Your name’s Deshante, right?” Chris asked. Both Deshante and Michelle widened their eyes in surprise. There had been twenty kids at the workshop and the fact that he remembered this little boys name was astonishing.
“You remember my name?” Deshante asked breathlessly, a bright smile creeping across his lips.
“Yeah,” Chris said signing the ball with a flourish. “I remember because you reminded me of me when I was your age.”
“Really?” Deshante asked.
“People thought I was too skinny to play football too,” Chris continued. “I got picked on a lot by the bigger kids.”
“What did you do?” Deshante asked. He moved close to Chris eager to hear the quarterback's advice.
“I just kept playing,” Chris said. “I learned to tune them out. And when I got better, those guys started to respect me.”
“Do you think that could happen to me?” Deshante asked hopefully.
“You never know,” Chris answered. “Keep playing and we’ll see.”
He handed the ball back to Deshante who took it gratefully. He then gave Chris the largest smile Michelle had ever seen from the small boy. He rarely smiled and had never talked as much to her as he just had to Chris.
A moment later, a car bearing Deshante’s grandmother pulled up to the curb and honked its horn. Deshante thanked Chris and ran happily towards the car. Michelle watched the little black car drive away before turning to look at Chris.
“Thanks for that,” she said. “That was really sweet of you.”
“Not really,” he said. “It was true. I didn’t look like much when I was his age either. Just goes to show, huh?”
“I guess it does,” she said.
He smiled at her. It was that bright, white toothed smile that she had first fallen for. For a moment, she forgot that she was supposed to be steeling herself, putting up a wall, not letting the little crush she had on this man to get the better of her.
Instead, she smiled back at him.
“So, how are you getting home?” he asked. “You got a boyfriend or husband picking you up?”
She rolled her eyes at the roundabout question then shook her head.
“My car’s in the shop,” she answered honestly. “And my friend was supposed to pick me up but her kid got sick so she had to stay home with her.”
“So how’re you getting home?” Chris asked.
“I figured I’d just call Uber,” she answered pulling out her phone again. “There’s bound to be one out here.”
“Aw, come on,” he said. “You don’t have to do that. My car’s in the covered garage, let me drive you.”
Her heart began to pound in her chest once again, and looking into those blue eyes, remembering how bright his smile was, she was very tempted to take him up on the offer.
Then she remembered why she couldn’t. So, she shook her head no.
“Thanks, but I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“It’s no trouble,” he said. “You live in the city right?”
Reluctantly, she nodded yes.
“Then you’re already on my way!”
She knew she should protest again. She searched her brain and tried to think of a reason to refuse. At least, one that would not make her sound both presumptuous and paranoid. She opened her mouth to put in another argument when he beat her to it.
“Look,” he said, “you shouldn’t have to pay to get back home. Besides, I had a good time with those kids today. So, let me take you home. Call it my way of saying thank you.”
He smiled again and, even though she knew she shouldn’t, Michelle found herself smiling back once more.
“Ok,” she answered.
“Great,” he said. “This way.” He led her to the covered garage where a bright red and clearly brand new Ferrari waited for them.
“Brand new,” Chris said proudly. “It’s got Wi-Fi, leather seats, backup assist. Anything you could want.”
He stepped back admiring it and looked up at her. Clearly, he expected her to be impressed. Michelle smiled to herself when she realized she had an opportunity to shoot him down.
“I’ve never been into cars,” she said. “They were always just things to get me from point A to point B.”
She felt both proud and a bit guilty when she saw his face fall at that. He looked from her then back to the car, clearly at a loss for what to say next.
“Ok then,” was what he settled for before moving around to the passenger side of the car.
He opened the door for her and Michelle felt her heart flutter just a bit. Most men she knew didn’t bother opening doors as they thought that she wouldn’t want them to. They figured that she was one of the guys and wouldn’t appreciate such basic chivalry. When she looked up at Chris she found that she liked it very much.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. She moved to get in and felt a thrill when he gently took her arm.
“Watch your step getting in,” he said. “There’s a little bit of a dip.” He gently guided her in, his warm hand still wrapped around her arm.
“Again, thanks,” she managed to mutter as she took a seat in the car.
He smiled again and this one went all the way up to his blue eyes making them dance.
Soon, too soon for Michelle, he let go of her arm and moved to the driver’s side of the car. Michelle noticed that the place where he’d touched her arm still burned with the warmth of his hand.
The car ride home was surprisingly pleasant. Chris, it turned out, was interested in more than just how a girl got to be a coach. He also asked how she became an elementary school teacher, whether she’d always known that teaching was what she wanted to do, and what the kids she taught were like.
She answered him with anecdotes from her fourth-grade classroom and their little league football team. She told him about funny things the kids said or the ridiculous expectations some parents had.
In turn, she found herself asking him about playing football for UCLA. Was it hard balancing sports and classes? Did he want to get drafted to play for the 49ers or was he secretly hoping for another team.
He answered her with plenty of amusing anecdotes of his own about coaches, players, agents and managers. She found herself learning more about the NFL from Chris than she had in years of watching sports analysis.
When they arrived at her apartment in the middle of the city, she was surprised that forty-five minutes had gone by. It seemed more like five.
“Well, thanks for the ride,” she said. “I’m glad I didn’t have to pay some smelly stranger to bring me back.”
“I’m glad too,” he said. “At least you think I smell good.”
“I never said that,” she said with a small laugh. He chuckled with her for a moment and when it ended, she found herself still looking into his eyes, more than a little reluctant to leave.
Finally, she took a breath and told herself that if she didn’t go now she never would.
“Well,” she said as firmly as she could, “I guess I’ll see you around.”
She turned and started towards her building.
“Hey, Michelle,” he called after her, “wait.”
Against her better judgment, she turned back to him. The car window was open and he was leaning over towards the passenger side.
“I was wondering if maybe I could call you sometime,” Chris said. “We could get drinks or dinner or whatever.”
Her heart sunk and she bit her lip. She knew what she should say, what she had to say. She knew she couldn’t get involved with anyone like Chris as her heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
“Look,” he said before she could answer, “I promise I won’t prank call you in the middle of the night. I also promise I won’t give your number out to any of my friends.”
He was smiling in a joking kind of way and she wanted to smile back. But, she still couldn’t quite force herself to do it.
“I just really want to see you again,” Chris said. His smile was fading to be replaced by a sincere expression. It was something she hadn’t seen from him as of yet. Something very genuine.
It was something that made her remember Deshante, the little outcast on her football team. She remembered what Chris had told him, how he had caused a smile to cross the boy’s face when no one else had been able to.
Suddenly, she realized that she couldn’t refuse that sincere look no matter how hard she tried.
“Ok,” she said moving towards the car. She gave him her number which he typed into his phone. He promised to call her during the week so that they could work out a date.
As he drove away and Michelle walked slowly into her apartment, she prayed to god that she had not just made a huge mistake.
*****
Chris pulled up to the restaurant with his heart beating loudly in his chest. It had been one week since Michelle had given him her number and three days since he had called.
They’d set up a date at a restaurant Michelle liked. It was called
Millennium
and apparently all the dishes were vegetarian or vegan.