Chapter 4
Willa
I don't know what it is, but I sat through this whole interview while everyone asked questions to the running back and the quarterback, and I know I probably should have asked something, but all I could do is stare at JD. He looks mad as he's sitting there with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. If there's ever a person that looks alone in this world, it's him, and I don’t understand it. It makes me just want to walk up and hug him.
But I know I can't do that. He would probably laugh in my face if I even tried, but somehow I had to connect with him. And without even thinking, when the announcer asked if there were any more questions, I said JD's name. “Excuse me, JD?”
When it seemed I’d gotten his attention, I said the first thing that I thought of: "What did you do to prepare for today's game?"
Going by the giggles and laughs of the reporters around me, obviously it wasn't the best question to ask. JD has already leaned up, so I know I have his attention, and the whole room is quiet now, waiting on a response.
JD points at me. "You, repeat your question."
I say it louder this time. "What did you do to prepare for the game today?"
He’s staring intently at me. "We had a team meeting, did some walkthroughs, had a big lunch, and there's a few other things that I do as tradition, but if you want to talk about it after this, I'd be willing," he says.
I nod and swallow. It seems there's a gasp from the other reporters, and I can feel all their eyes on me. No doubt they're thinking, "What is that frumpy reporter doing here?" And I'm sure they're wondering why JD Ryan, who never talks to reporters, is willing to talk to me. It sort of makes me wonder if he remembers me from high school. I nod and look down at my paper because it's hard for me to look him in the eyes without blushing.
Shortly after that, the room is dismissed, and the players are led out.
The communications manager that set this all up comes up to me. "Willa Banks?"
I nod. And he says, "Come with me, please."
I follow behind the man, and my mind is going crazy. He knew my name. Yeah, I had to sign in on the press pass, and it's hanging from my neck. Is that how he knew who I was? I don’t think he looked at my tag. Or did JD tell him my name?
I'm thinking of all the different scenarios as I walk behind the man and he opens the door to let me in. As soon as I'm in, he shuts it behind me, and I'm standing with only a table between JD Ryan and me. It looks as if he's been pacing, but he stops when I walk in. He's staring at me, and I take the time to really look at him. He's nothing like he used to be in high school, but somehow he’s still the same.
Nervously my hands tighten on the pen and paper in my hand, and I pull my tote bag further up my shoulder. All I can do is stand here and stare at him, speechless.
Finally, he breaks the silence. "Willa Banks, you haven't changed a bit."
I smile, realizing that he does remember me. Almost shyly, I push my glasses up my nose. I'm happy that he remembers me, but it's a shame that he thinks I haven't changed a bit. I thought I had improved some since high school.
"You remember me?" I say.
He grunts in response. "I didn't know you were a sportswriter."
I shake my head. "No, normally I write humanity pieces, but the sportswriter was sick."
He nods his head. "What have you been doing since high school?"
I shrug. "College." And then to myself I say, stalking you.
I probably could ask him what he's been doing since high school, but I know exactly what he's doing. I followed him through his time at Juco and into the draft. I remember how happy I was when he was picked up by the Knoxville Knights. That’s why I decided to apply at the newspaper in town after graduation. I wanted to be near him, even though it’s probably dumb on my part.
"Sit down," he says, pointing at the chair in front of me.
I sit, and then he sits across the table from me.
"You went to Knox U, didn't you?" he asks.
I'm a little surprised that he knows that. "Yeah, I did, and now I’m over at the Daily News."
"So you want to know what I do to get ready before a game?" he asks.
I shake my head. I lay out my pad of paper in front of me and get my pen ready. "Yes, of course. That's why I'm here. I don't mean to waste your time. I was just curious if there was some kind of tradition or anything that you have when you get ready for a game."