Reagan gave him a moment, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. Hopeful that he would, though she wasn’t sure exactly what response she wanted from him. But when he remained silent, chewing casually on the best fried rice the city had to offer, she returned her focus back to Petra, and back to their plan. “What’s this information you have for me?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Reagan didn’t dare get any closer than she already was. In fact, all things considered, she might be too close already.
Petra had discovered Brett’s participation with the soccer team, and had even managed to get a copy the team’s practice schedule. A student athlete on scholarship, he was there nearly every day, but today just happened to be an open practice for anyone on campus to watch. While it was difficult to see him clearly from the coffee shop across the street that Reagan had found, as she sipped her latte she could enjoy the relative obscurity the establishment offered her as she peered out through groups of people forming on the lawn across the street.
In essence, she could find out what she needed to know next without getting caught. And the not getting caught part really, really appealed to her. Though next time she might bring binoculars to get a better peek...
Still, there was one quality she could confidently mark off her list: Athletic: check! Reagan took a marker out and made a giant checkmark next to the appropriate box, then leaned back, took a sip of coffee and smiled. And yes, she realized he was yet another athlete, thus continuing her already established trend. She’d just have to come to terms with that later...
Her attention was only distracted by a call to her phone, which she quickly fumbled with before answering.
“Am I interrupting you?” The voice on the other end was airy, slightly dramatic and just a little whiny. Should have known, Reagan thought with a shake of her head, only Katie would have this kind of bad timing.
Peeking through the window again, she checked in to make sure she hadn’t missed anything major. “Would it really matter if you had?” Her tone reflected the half grimace, half smile that alighted her face.
There was a long silence in the conversation that meant Katie was thoroughly contemplating her answer. “Probably not. I need some sisterly advice?”
Reagan fought back the urge to sigh. Katie had been calling her for sisterly advice since her twelfth birthday when her friend had locked herself in the bathroom crying for no reason, and had always managed the worst possible timing with said calls. But what could she do? She supposed the fact that her mother had been married to Katie’s father at one point justified the intrusion. And even though their parents had since split, and they were back in two households again, Reagan had always fostered a close relationship with the girl. So, she put on her ‘older sister wisdom cap’, which she felt completely unequipped for at the moment, and prepared herself for a lengthy discussion on her younger step-sister’s latest topic of interest.
“Maybe.” She teased as she shifted her position, hoping for a better view of the players across the street for a little multi-tasking effort.
There were a few sniffles, a pause, and another sniffle. Was Katie crying? “I don’t know what to do.” Sniff, sniff.
Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue, Reagan found herself repeating the mantra as she twisted a long strand of hair around her index finger and tried not to think about how much she might regret picking up her phone. The conversation hadn’t even begun yet, and she was already predicting its potential to be very long and very dramatic.
“Reagan are you there?”
“About what in particular, Kate?”
Sniff. “I think Kyle and I have broken up.” Katie’s voice began to waiver and Reagan could envision her little sister’s big eyes filling with tears. “And I just don’t know what to do.” Her last word was drawn out into a sad little whine.
“What happened?”
Katie then went into a lengthy, and theatrical, description that very simply boiled down to – Kyle took Katie to get ice cream. Kyle was distant. Katie questioned him. He confessed to wanting to see someone else. No explanation, no apology. Katie crushed her remaining cone, which sadly wasn’t very much, on his head. He didn’t come after her, so she broke it off. Sort of.
And ironically she hadn’t craved her favorite flavor ice cream ever since.
And while Reagan was truly sorry to hear it had all happened that way, the only thing she could think to say was, “Oh Katie.” She’d met the boy-band look-a-like once, and those few moments were all she’d needed to know that it probably wouldn’t work out between them. “Don’t worry, there’s someone much, much better out there for you out there. You’re young, you have all the time in the world to find him.”
“I feel like my whole world is falling down around me!” Finally, Katie fell into a full out fit of sobs and crying, which forced Reagan to cringe and pull the phone away from her ear. She knew her sister’s heart probably was really breaking, but the dramatic statements like those were sometimes hard to swallow. Especially since the girl was still in high school and had her entire life ahead of her to make bad mistakes with boys. Just like she had, she winced.
“Don’t you think you’re dramatizing it just a little?”
Sniff. “No.” Sniff.
Reagan took a long, deep breath. “Okay.” Then she took a sip of coffee and regrouped.
“I thought you of all people would understand.” There was a noise that sounded as though a tissue had been ripped from its box.
“I do, Kate.” Reagan allowed her words to be filled with overly sympathetic notes. “Unfortunately, I really do. More than you might imagine right now. I happen to be going through some personal things myself right now.”
A quick glance out the window showed the group of guys that had been practicing was about to disband. “But at this very moment, I’ve actually got my head in a million things.” She stood and stepped closer to the window to get a better look. One of the athletes, sporting a mass of blond curls, was crossing the lawn toward the street. Proceeding to the trash bin, she tossed her cup in and stepped across the threshold. “Can I call you back later?”
“No.”
Reagan suddenly paused in her path, noting the considerably stronger note to her sister’s voice. “No?” She repeated.
“No.” The girl stated again, matter-of-factly. “I’m coming to stay with you. We’ll talk then.”
“You’re what?” Reagan choked back the laugh that was trying to escape. But all she heard was the dial tone in her ear. “Katie? Are you there?” Reagan pulled the phone back from her ear in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
But there was no more time to waste. As Reagan eagerly looked around to see if she could spot Brett – or the guy she’d assumed had been Brett at least – she discovered that not a single player was in sight. It was too late, the moment had passed. Throwing her head back in dramatic despair, she cursed herself for letting the opportunity slip through her fingers. But as she stood on the sidewalk, gazing across at the athletic department building, an inkling of an idea began to cross her mind.
CHAPTER NINE
Thursday
Almost a full twenty-four hours would go by before Reagan had finally summoned the courage to return to the athletic department to execute her new idea. As she stood on the sidewalk, frozen in her place with nerves, she evaluated the looming and unfamiliar building in front of her. There was absolutely nothing about this idea that aligned with her personality, and even less about the idea that she was perfectly comfortable with. But this entire operation had been one big stretch to her comfort zone from the start, so why deviate from that now?
Taking a determined step forward, she gauged how she felt. And though her stomach was wrestling with jitters, she couldn’t find much to complain about. So she took another step forward. Nope, too much now. Having just totally lost her nerve, she circled back around to where she’d began.
You can do this, she lectured herself while
pacing in a tight little line, just go in. Walk right in, ask your questions and get out. Simple.
Reagan glanced at her watch. It was early enough that most of the athletes would probably still be in classes. Practices, from her understanding, didn’t start until a little later in the day. But she’d lose out on the opportunity if she waited much longer. She’d set so many objectives for this little mini-recon mission she’d devised that if she didn’t summon up the nerve right now, she’d have to give up on the idea all together before she ran out of time. Or someone saw her standing there talking to herself. That could get a little awkward...
With a determined huff, Reagan made the conscious effort to push down her nerves and take one step at a time until she’d traveled the entire stretch of walkway up the path to the large glass doors. Pulling hard at the handle and realizing it was more difficult to open than it should’ve been, she decided it might be time to get back into the gym herself as she crossed over the threshold. Be that as it may, she’d just accomplished her first big objective: Getting her body fully inside the building without getting kicked out.
The interior of the building was spacious, airy and light. It was more modern than she’d expected it to be, with unique architecture and a splash of color against the occasional accent wall. Clearly, the department had come into some money from the football team’s recent stretch of season wins. But the glossy floors were making her shoes squeak too much for her comfort as she crossed from one end to the other, glancing down halls to make sure no one was around. Though she saw no one at the moment, there was definitely the chance someone would hear her, and that would just complicate matters since she was pretty certain the general student population wasn’t allowed to just randomly roam the building.
From the corner of her eye, Reagan spotted a row of tall glass cases that displayed trophies, plaques and flags. Realizing this was as good a place to start as any, despite her obvious concerns, she initiated objective two: confirm athletic participation. Stepping across the foyer, careful not to let her shoes squeak too much, she quickly passed over most of the display until her eyes settled on a picture of the men’s soccer team. The faces were small, but she squinted and scanned the figures looking for any sign of Brett.
And just as her eyes landed on him, she heard a sound that nearly made her jump out of her skin...
“May I help you?”
It was a woman’s voice - mature in stature, matronly in warmth. And yet without even turning around, Reagan immediately knew this person would be the administrative type in the worst possible way. A quick glance into the reflection of the glass had her groaning internally that her suspicions looked to be correct. An authoritative rule follower with her tight bun and pinched expression, it would probably take some quick thinking to get around this and get on to objective three... and Reagan had never really been one for quick thinking like that.
Turning slowly around, she looked up into a face that was just as stern as the voice had been. A quick and fleeting thought passed through her head that she hadn’t heard the woman’s shoes squeak across the floor, how had she managed that?
“Um, well yes. Maybe.” She grimaced at the awkward stammering of words that fell out of her mouth, and wished to the communication gods that she knew what to say next.
The woman apparently sensed her hesitant delay, and gave her a little nudge to get the conversation flowing. “Are you an athlete?” Apparently she had no interest in hiding the severe assessment she was giving Reagan as her steely eyes traveled up and down Reagan’s body, no doubt trying to gauge for herself if the person standing in front of her was even fit enough to be there. The gesture only served to make Reagan unnecessarily aware of her soft curves. While she could never be considered overweight, she also could never pass as an athlete, and until now had been content falling anywhere on the spectrum between the two. But the way this woman was looking at her now made her wish that maybe once or twice she’d followed Petra’s lead and ordered a salad instead of a burger. And she hated feeling like that.
“No?” She finally replied, insecurity filling her voice.
Ms. Administrative Woman responded with a low sound in her throat as if to say ‘I thought not’. “Only student athletes are permitted here.” The smile that accompanied her words was as warm as it was condescending, and that flustered Reagan even more.
“Oh. Well, I was just, um... I was here to...” Note to self, Reagan thought, devise cleverly thought out lies before embarking on stupid, self-serving scheme next time.
“Are you from the paper?”
“Paper?” Reagan thought she might see a glimmer of opportunity after all, which she fully intended to capitalize on if at all possible.
“The school newspaper, I mean. Are you the journalist they sent to do the interview?”
“Yes.” Reagan replied quickly without even thinking about what she was confirming. She was just glad for the opportunity to have something positive to say. Then, as the thought had simmered for a few seconds, she smiled wickedly and settled into the role. “Yes, I am.” She’d found her window of opportunity, and could proceed to objective three unhindered – gather informative details.
The woman seemed to accept her in this role, and offered a large smile as she gestured with her hand to follow. “Come this way.”
Before she’d fully understood what she’d committed to, Reagan found herself being lead down the long maze of hallway corridors that took her deep into the back of the building toward the practice fields. When they finally stopped in front of the metal double doors, her heart began to thump hard against her rib cage at the handwritten sign posted there.
Soccer practice in main field today.
The woman stopped and looked at Reagan, her expression clearly anticipating something from her...if only she could figure out what. Reagan, however, merely looked back at her with a blank face. Then she glanced at the sign with arched brows, then back to the woman again. Her confusion was becoming evident, as was her internal concern that this reporter she was playing was expected to have something to do with the soccer team today. She hadn’t prepared herself to get that close to Brett when she’d formulated her plan. Everything had just gotten incredibly real.
“Through there, then out the door at the back.” The woman finally answered to Reagan’s silent question.
Reagan blinked at her, staring blankly. “What’s through there?”
“The team you’re going to interview.”
She knew what the answer would be before she even asked the question. “I’m interviewing the soccer team?” Her voice was just a little more nervous than she would’ve liked, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d just had her worst fear realized.
“The paper didn’t give you your assignment?” It was the woman’s turn to be confused.
But all Reagan could do was stare at the sign, unable to tear her eyes off of it as she summoned the courage to see this act through to the end. “Not exactly.” It wasn’t a lie at least.
“Well, the team’s out there, and they’re waiting for you.” With that, she turned and walked back down the hall with her silent shoes, leaving Reagan to figure out the rest on her own.
“Thanks.” She said, more to herself than for the woman’s benefit. Sighing in determination, she pushed her way through the double doors, which led her through to a weight room that screamed with the school colors and mascot. A quick look around proved it to be empty, so she followed the administrative lady’s directions and scurried quickly through to the other side where she spotted the second set of doors that would supposedly lead her out to the main practice field.
And right on cue, a voice from behind her – rough and obviously male this time – stopped her in her tracks before she had time to slip through unnoticed.
“You there.” The voice declared. Though startled, Reagan stopped and contemplated what exactly she’d done that’d messed up her karma so badly this week. “You’re that reporter, right? You’re early.”<
br />
It was easy to determine that the squat man standing in front of her must have been a coach of sorts – the ill-fitting gray t-shirt and blue shorts, along with the infamous whistle that hung on a long cord around his neck was a dead giveaway. The farmer’s tan from hours spent in the practice field was just an added bonus.
“I’m sorry?” She wasn’t sure if the apology was necessary or expected, but she offered it nonetheless just to be safe.
“Good trait.” He stated with a confident nod, ignoring her response. “Wish my players would learn it. Well, don’t just stand there, let’s go.”
Afraid to do anything but follow him, she stepped into his path, through the doors and out into the blinding sunlight where several groups of guys had congregated around the field to practice various techniques. All of it looked foreign to Reagan, and she was most definitely, undeniably outside her comfort zone now. Scanning the crowd quickly, she found half a dozen individuals with blond hair racing across the field. All were too far away to see clearly, but she was hopeful at least one was Brett.
“All of my boys aren’t here right now, it’s that time thing I told you about.” He explained with a wink. “But you can start with the lead players.” Without a pause, the coach blew a long breath into the whistle, and Reagan jumped at the shrill sound.
“Listen up!” He screamed, commanding their attention. “This is Abbey Wentworth with the Daily Sun. She’s gonna be hanging around, interviewing a few of you for the article for this weekend’s game. Be nice, and remember your answers represent me.”
Suddenly, more than 20 pairs of curious eyes were on Reagan, and there was nowhere for her to hide. She felt herself being sized up, checked out, and otherwise analyzed. She felt the red flush work its way up her cheeks and she wished very much at the moment that she’d never come up with this stupid recon mission. A smile was managed, and she nodded her head firmly in the direction of the crowd. Even though some smiled back at her, she’d never in her life wanted to disappear more.
The Boyfriend List Page 6