JAMES
“Steve?”
“Mhm?” His cheeks are bulging from the large amount of chocolate he devoured in two seconds.
“Did you talk to Sam?” He chokes on the chocolate-saliva mixture stuffed in his mouth and I have to pat his back to help him get it all down his throat. I know, it was a bad time to ask, but I’ve been holding back for the last three weeks, ever since he got released from the hospital and was allowed to return to college.
Of course, he still can’t play—Coach would use his fingers as sausages first—but that doesn’t stop him from joining me in the stands to watch practice, cheering our friends with impromptu banners made from notebook sheets. When he manages to swallow, he sighs with relief. Then, he stares at the crowded field with grumpy, sweaty players. His expression becomes dre
