Pass Interference (6 page)

“Sara—”

Give the guy a break, she told herself. She began to gather up her things and quickly toss them into her pack. “Don’t move. I’ll pick you up at your place in five minutes,” she told him.

As she rushed out of the library with the phone to her ear, her heart started racing at the idea of seeing Philip outside the confines of tutoring. Her mixed emotions were jockeying for position—excitement versus dread, joy versus fear. “You can time me,” she added, clicking the End Call key.

Sara nervously flipped through a magazine as she sat in the waiting room of Philip’s surgeon’s office. She remembered a month before, scrolling through the school e-newspaper. She’d skimmed the lead article about Philip Mason’s football injury, mocking the fact the school was making such a big deal over it. There were way more important issues going on in the world, and yet
this
was headline news? Sara determined that it wasn’t nearly as important as the reporter was making it out to be. It meant nothing to half the students on campus, and certainly nothing to her, who had no interest in football and had an innate aversion to athletes like Philip.

Now here she was a month later, sitting in the doctor’s office, anxiously waiting to find out about Philip’s progress. She could almost hear the universe laughing at the irony of her situation.

She tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table and got up from her seat. Sara walked toward the window and mindlessly gazed at her car outside in the small parking lot. She wished she hadn’t given Philip such a hard time about driving him here. The answer was always going to be yes, and her intention wasn’t to make him beg. But if she had agreed to his request right away, she was certain he’d figure out she had a crush on him. That’s why she hedged.

When she turned away from the window she noticed the receptionist eyeing her, so Sara gave the woman half a smile.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” the receptionist asked.

Sara instinctively looked around before realizing the receptionist was indeed talking to her. Philip was the doctor’s last appointment of the day, so the waiting room was empty. “Me? Why should I be worried?”

“Because today’s a big day for your boyfriend. He finds out when he can get back on the field.”

Her eyes flashed, and she instantly wondered whether the receptionist could read the surprise on Sara’s face. Did this woman really think someone as ordinary and uncheerleader-like as Sara could be Philip’s girlfriend? Maybe Sara was the only one who viewed Philip—and herself—so superficially. Other people just saw a girl and guy together and came to the conclusion they were a couple.

Once Sara got over the initial shock, she began to mentally calculate the number of confidentiality laws the receptionist had just violated by telling Sara about a patient. Until this second, Sara didn’t know this appointment was so important. Philip didn’t mention it in the car, but she felt nervous inside even before the receptionist gave her this intel. She must have picked up on it from Philip’s demeanor as she drove him to the doctor. He was definitely antsy.

Sara nodded at the receptionist and managed a smile before reclaiming her seat. She opened a magazine again and pretended to read it before the receptionist had the chance to tell her about Mr. Kramer’s gall bladder or Mrs. Dreyfuss’s insulin deficiency, or worse yet, ask about Sara’s love life.

After a few minutes of looking down at the magazine on her lap, she noticed a man standing directly in front of her. Her eyes slowly made their way up from his knees to his face. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was. “Philip! You’re standing!” Sara jumped up and threw her arms around him without even thinking. When she felt his hand touch the small of her back, she realized what she was doing and backed away. Straightening out her blouse, she could feel her face flush. She smiled awkwardly. “That’s great. Um. I mean it’s great seeing you on your feet. Literally.”

“Well, on crutches,” he corrected. He was, in fact, leaning on a pair of crutches, and the splint was gone, two details Sara missed on first inspection in the excitement of the moment.

“Don’t you have a set at home?” she remembered.

“Yup, and I’ll be returning this pair and that one too within a month,” he said. “I’m leaving my wheelchair here.” He was smiling so broadly, so brightly, that his face seemed to glow. She’d never seen him so happy, and she had a hard time looking away. She grew embarrassed when he appeared to notice that she was staring at him.

“I’m ready to go if you are,” he said.

Even though Philip was using crutches to negotiate his way from the doctor’s office to the car, Sara felt like she had to speed-walk to keep up. “You’re pretty impressive with those things,” she said, indicating the crutches.

“Not my first rodeo. I’ve been injured before.”

She unlocked the car doors using her keyless remote. “Here, I’ll take those,” she said, waiting for Philip to hand her his crutches. He hesitated for a moment and looked at her with surprise, as if he didn’t expect any help from her. When he gave her the crutches, she placed them in the trunk, watched him ease into the passenger seat, and then got behind the wheel.

Once they were back on the road, Sara glanced over at Philip. His broad smile was infectious. He was so pumped during the drive home that Sara could actually feel his joy. He was like a new man.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy,” she observed.

“That’s because you haven’t exactly seen me at my best,” he admitted. “It’s been a rough six weeks, not knowing what was gonna happen.”

She glanced at him again before turning her attention back to the road. “You said the doctor told you that you can start back slowly in another few weeks, right?, but the season will be almost over.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I sort of suspected I’d be down for the count. But at least now I have a realistic goal. I have hope again.”

“Hope for…um.” Sara searched for a way to say it tactfully. “Are you saying you didn’t think you’d be able to play again?”

“Yeah, thought crossed my mind. Or even walk again,” he muttered quietly. He shook off the negative thought. “The team has a good shot at the post-season, so maybe…”

“I bet you’ll get drafted by a good team,” she said enthusiastically. She wanted to see that smile again.

“I probably wouldn’t be taken in the first or second round like I would have been if not for getting sidelined,” he explained. “But the rainbow is, the later the pick, the better the team.”

Sara’s brow knit. “Okaaaay. That makes no sense.” Before Philip could explain how the draft worked, Sara asked, “What was that about a rainbow?”

“Oh. Ha. I didn’t even realize I said that.” He laughed. “I picked up that phrase from my mother. She always says where there’s rain, there’s a rainbow. Kind of her way of saying that ‘things happen for a reason,’ and life has a way of working out, even when bad things happen.”

“A rainbow. I like that.” Sara smiled. She decided she liked Philip’s mother, sight unseen. Then she thought about the draft again. “Wait. Don’t jocks usually have an agent that shops them around? Or a player representative or something?”

Philip appeared impressed. “Very good,” he said, briefly placing his hand on her shoulder. “Yup. In my case, my dad is my agent, at least for now.”

Sara tried to ignore the little thrill she felt when Philip touched her. “Your dad? Really?” Everything about Philip fascinated her lately. “Is that his job? Like Jerry McGuire?”

“No.” Philip chuckled. “It’s not his job, but my father knows a lot about business and he knows a lot about football. He played football in college for a couple years. Plus, he knows a lot about me. There’s no one I trust more with my future.” Philip suddenly clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Oh man, this is gonna be such a great Christmas present for my parents.”

Christmas? Sara hadn’t even given any thought to winter break at all, and it surprised her to hear Philip mention it. She wasn’t close with her family, so holidays didn’t have the same importance for her as they did for most people. She looked at Philip and a sudden panic washed over her at the thought of not seeing him for weeks. “Are you—” When she started to speak, her voice was squeaky, revealing her anxiety. Clearing her throat, she repeated, “Are you gonna be seeing your parents at Christmas?” She hoped he didn’t catch the dread in her voice.

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“Um. No,” she said, hating to admit it. “I’m staying on campus.” She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Seriously? Why?”

She kept her eyes on the road, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was looking right at her, making her feel self-conscious. She pressed the button to roll down the window on the passenger side, hoping to divert his attention. No such luck. “I um…I prefer not having to deal with my families.”

Philip squinted at her. “Did you say families?”

“Oh um. Yes. My parents are divorced and they each have another family.”

“Oh. So they remarried.”

“Yes. Listen, it’s not a big deal,” she claimed, hoping to move on to some other subject. She disliked talking about her personal life, and she worried that she was giving Philip the wrong impression.

“Don’t you like their new spouses?”

She wondered why he wasn’t letting this drop. “Well they’re not exactly new. Mom got remarried soon after the divorce. I was so young when my parents split up. I don’t even remember my father ever living with us.”

“That’s sad,” Philip said quietly. “So I guess that means you don’t have siblings.”

“No, I do. Half siblings,” Sara told him. “Mom and her second husband have two children together, also known as the golden girls.”

“What do you mean?”

Sara looked at Philip sideways. “Are you interviewing me?” she asked with a smile. She wasn’t really enjoying the line of questioning, but she was enjoying being with Philip.

“No. Just interested,” he answered.

Sara felt her stomach do a little flip. He just said he was interested, and he sounded sincere. Even if he was only being polite, it still meant a lot to her. “I mean exactly what I said. They were golden. They could do no wrong.”

“And you?”

“Me?” She shrugged. “I was invisible. They didn’t even notice me.” She couldn’t believe she just admitted something so personal. But that little confession helped Sara to relax a little—probably because Philip didn’t seem to be judging her.

“I find that hard to believe,” he said. “Did you get along with your sisters?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Well enough, I guess. We just never bonded. We have nothing in common. I mean nothing.”

“Hmmm. What about your dad’s family? Are you any closer with them?”

She bit her lip, feeling a little uneasy admitting her lack of family ties, especially after reading Philip’s essays and knowing how close he was with his family. “I guess you’d say it was pretty much the same story, but with a different cast of characters.” She chuckled. “I’m someone who’s much happier being by myself and not having to deal with them. I always feel like the odd-woman-out when I see them.”

Touching her shoulder briefly, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that. So, are they in Florida?”

That gentle touch rippled through Sara’s body, and she couldn’t think for a minute. What did he just ask her? Oh god, she couldn’t remember! “Um. What?”

“I asked if they live in Florida.”

“Oh.” Exhaling, she told him, “No. Pennsylvania. What about your family?”

“Southwest Florida. The Naples area. You ever been there?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Hmmm.” Philip got quiet for a moment. “So, you’re gonna be on campus all by yourself, huh?”

“I don’t mind.”

In his business class a few days later, Philip was listening to a lecture about the rise and fall and rise again of Apple founder Steve Jobs, when his mind wandered to Sara. She wasn’t his first choice for a chauffeur to the doctor the other day, but it worked out okay.

She shocked him with the hug in the doctor’s office. Philip had melted many girls’ hearts in his time, but Sara was different. He didn’t think she liked him at all, let alone cared whether or not he ever walked again. Still, he was glad to see that she was softening toward him and opening up a little. It would make the tutoring experience more palatable.

Holding the end of a stylus between his lips like a cigarette, Philip mused about how Sara wasn’t like other girls he normally encountered. She wasn’t flirtatious or cute or coy. She didn’t throw herself at him like so many of the girls he knew. In fact, she seemed to look down on him, as if he were a lower form of life.

Now and then, however, there were glimmers of a connection between the two of them, like the day she walked with him to the sports complex. It was the first time he noticed how pretty she was. He didn’t mean to stare at her or make her uncomfortable, but it was obvious he made her feel self-conscious. And that unexpected embrace at the doctor’s office seemed to catch them both off guard.

If he had to analyze Sara, he’d say she was filled with bravado. But that’s all it was, just an act, a cover for her lack of self-confidence. He recognized it from personal experience.

Not many people knew this, but Philip was uncomfortable in the limelight. It took a lot out of him to give interviews and pose for pictures. He had to work at appearing to be at ease. The team had paid media trainers to teach the players how to handle themselves during interviews. That helped some, but it didn't change what was baked into his psyche, and that was insecurity.

Ah, he thought. That’s probably the reason he was intrigued by Sara. She reminded him of himself.

If he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit he didn’t always relish his fame. Philip wasn’t the public persona type. He was a simple guy from a rural farming community in Southwest Florida. He’d been overweight and overlooked as a kid, so he was totally unprepared when he found himself in the spotlight.

His father always gave him good advice, and to help him get past his insecurities, he said God gave Philip athletic ability, and that ability was what made him a local celebrity. Joe Mason advised Philip to appreciate it rather than avoid it. So Philip struggled to leave his insecurities at the door whenever a reporter wanted to interview him or take pictures.