“Didn’t your dad throw a football around with you when you were a little kid, Liam?”
“He was kind of busy protectin’ our country,” I say, although that’s only half-true. He was busy protecting our country most of the time, but he did teach me how to throw a football. I must’ve been three when he first taught me how to throw a football. By the time I was eight, I begged my parents to constantly play football with me so I could practice my perfect spiral. I never stopped throwing the ball after that, and would recruit anyone who was around to go to the field with me so I could practice.
I hand the football back to her, but she pushes it in my hands. “Are you a righty or lefty?”
“Righty.”
She takes my fingers and places them on the ball, then proceeds to tell me how to throw it. “The key
