Football singularity

Chapter 824: Chapter 824 Catch Up

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[23-06-2021 | Kava Cafe, West Village, New York | 15:22 EDT]

Reece slid into the booth across from her, adjusting himself in the narrow seat as if the chair had personally offended him. His shoulders barely fit inside the wooden frame, and he ended up perched half sideways, one arm draped along the back.

"You want anything?" May asked, sliding her menu across the table. "It’s on me."

"Cold brew. Black." He glanced around the café, rubbing his neck as he took in the space. "Kinda place is this? Feels like every rich white girl’s Pinterest board threw up here."

"That’s disgusting," she commented with a frown, but still flagged down a waiter to place the order. "Says the boy in a grey-t straight out of the basic Pinterest outfits catalogue."

"Kirkland Signature, Sis. Six-pack for eleven bucks."

May snorted into her matcha. "You’re lying."

They sat there for a moment, neither quite knowing where to start, and before they did, Reece’s order was delivered—a tall glass of black coffee, like liquid that resembled the finest of Irish Guinness. May had rehearsed six different opening lines on the walk over, and every single one of them evaporated the moment he sat down.

"You look good," she offered instead.

"Yeah?" Reece flexed his arm on the table, half-joking, half-not. "Strength coach at A&M is basically a war criminal, but it works."

"How was the season?"

"Alright." He shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly thinking about his answer. "Started six games, took 420 snaps, 9 TDs... 3 interceptions and only one turnover."

"Do they make you memories all that to join some sort of cult?" Was her response completely dumbfounding her brother, who had expected praise? "I’m still proud of you. I even caught the South Carolina, by far your best game."

"You watched?" His whole face changed. He tried to hide it, took a sip of the black coffee, but it was already there in his eyes. "That was three in the morning your time."

"Two in the morning, Munich. And yes, I watched it. Rakim watched it, too. He kept asking me why you don’t just run past players like he does, because he doesn’t understand American football at all."

"Tell him it’s called self-preservation," he retorted with indignation. "When a 6’4 240 pounds DB is waiting for a chance to kill you, you stay in the pocket. Plus, I was reading Cover 3."

"I’m not telling him that." She retorted, clearly knowing better. "He’ll Google it and then talk about it for a week. Or worse, he’ll buy a subscription and make me watch every game with him until he knows all the lingo."

Reece cracked a grin, listening to her complaints for a while, enjoying his cup of coffee. "Bet you cried when I got the touchdown to Achane, didn’t you?"

"I did not."

"Sis."

"I did not."

"You did, you always cry"

"That was the concussion adrenaline. You were talking with a helmet trainer next to you."

"Uh huh."

They sat with that for a beat, and the smile faded off May’s face. She turned the ceramic cup between her palms once, twice, then set it down and stopped fidgeting.

"Reece."

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

He didn’t need to ask who, as their father had been the elephant in their relationship for the better part of the year. He picked up his coffee, took another sip, and set it back down before answering.

"He’s alright. As alright as a man can be at Otisville, It’s not a real prison, sis. " He dismissed, not at all sounding pleased. "He plays tennis and has a job in the library. He’s got a walking route around the yard that he takes twice a day. He asks about you every time I call."

"He can keep asking."

"I know."

"And don’t you dare take anything from our conversations back to him."

"I know you only remind me a hundred times."

"I’m not saying that to be cruel."

"I know."

She exhaled slowly through her nose, and he waited her out, knowing she would still need more time to try to rebuild her relationship with their father. He wasn’t too pleased with him either, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to be angry at both his parents. Unlike his sister, who lives on the other side of the globe, he has to deal with both, especially his mother, who comes to every home game.

"Evelyn?" She asked.

"Same." Reece rolled his shoulders once. "Mom is mom; she’s driving grandad crazy with all her upgrades and plans at the ranch, though."

"I’m just staying out of the way in the dorms." He added a wry smile just at the thought of his packed folder. "They practically plan out every minute of my day from summer camp and during the season. But the parties are fun, but I for sure want to fight for that QB1 spot next season, Bruce is graduating, and there is no way I’m sitting behind a crash dummy like Marcus."

"I’m sure you do enjoy the parties, just don’t go doing anything you’re not ready to be responsible for. You’re an adult now." May chided, already imagining what her brother was being tempted with, now that football wasn’t occupying his attention. "Being the big man on campus won’t protect you; you know that best, right?"

"I know, I know," he waved her off, having experienced firsthand how his friends turned on him during senior year after his father’s scandal broke out. "I’m busy training and trying to rebuild my brand, but it’s kinda hard landing NIL deals with dad hanging over me, but I got a few local ones that keep me fed and a free gym."

"You know I could help you with my channel, or I could ask Rakim-"

"NO, MAY!" he stopped her before she finished her sentence. "What happened is shit, but it allowed me to see who is really on my side. Plus, it was a wake-up call to take football more seriously, heck, I’ve got my next three years planned out and working hard to meet the goals, a handout wouldn’t do me any good."

"It wouldn’t be a handout," May said, though her voice had gone softer.

"Sis. It would be," he firmly blocked her argument. "You have a great platform, and I’m proud of you for it, but your brand is like the opposite of what I want mine to be. Plus, I don’t think you realise just how big Rakim’s platform is, just look at that."

Turning on her chair, May glanced out of the window to see a massive billboard showing a compilation of Rakim facing a powerful Siberian tiger. As they approached each other, the Tiger transitioned to the sleek body of a black GT3 RS, stopping an inch before his feet. He shrugged with an impressed nod as its headlights flashed, blackening the screen before turning back on to reveal the gold eyes of a predator.

"You remember how the media tried to attack him after he chose Germany?" May absentmindedly nodded, watching as a different ad played, which, as luck would have it, was an Apex ad showing the rollout of his signature line. "Well, those same guys are now saying that he is that good because he grew up here."

May turned back to face him, letting her sunglasses fall from her hair into her lap, her lips pursed as she considered his words. The billboard had shifted twice more in the time it took her to turn around, but she once again realised just how big her man was. Seeing this lit a fire in her to get her plans off the ground and show him the results of her hard work.

"That’s a stretch even for them," she said after collecting herself.

"Not really." Reece took another pull from his glass, ice rattling as he set it back down. "They missed out on a walking global billboard and now need any excuse to associate themselves with his current success. Every article I’ve read about this Euros here mentions the Nike Academy pipeline or advanced training environment at IMG. It’s honestly getting ratchet the better he plays"

"He hardly trained at the Nike academy."

"I know that, but 90% of the people reading don’t."

May shook her head slowly. "He’s going to be so annoyed when he sees that."

"He gonna say something?"

"You bet." She smiled faintly. "He never misses an opportunity to throw shade when he does not like something. I feel sorry for them already."

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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