She snorted. “Always a charmer. If you need to talk more, you know I’m here. But don’t let your fear of the possibilities kill what could be a new start for the two of you.”
“It’s one meeting. Maybe.”
“Maybe not…”
“Bye, Monica.”
“Bye, Keyton.”
The next couple days were gone in a blink. Hours had been swallowed up by the Texas game, which we’d won, hanging out with the Fulton U guys, reviewing hours of tape for our upcoming games and practice sessions, and Headstrong Foundation work. Hours I’d tried to keep focused on what was ahead of me.
Hours I’d tried not to dream of Bay.
Tickets had sold well for SeptemberWeen. Who didn’t love feeling good about donating to charity while also getting tanked? Today was the last push before we closed ticket sales on Friday morning.
Over the years, we’d kept the location of the event secret as a way of building buzz around it. Attendees were told to meet at one location and were then sent the address thirty minutes before the party began.
It got people excited to be in on a secret no one else knew about. Once news leaked that Bay had been invited to perform, the secret location became a security must. I hoped they weren’t disappointed and would demand refunds, if she didn’t accept. Of course she wouldn’t accept. Not after the way I’d left her hotel suite.
The SeptemberWeen team had spent the last week scrambling for a new location just in case, which meant we had a few more tickets available. I hoped I hadn’t botched the whole event and ruined everyone’s hard work.
But today wasn’t SeptemberWeen. It was a final push for SeptemberWeen and highlighting a lot of the good done by so many people who cared. Growing up, I couldn’t have believed there were this many people out there who cared for kids who weren’t theirs. Knox’s parents felt like an anomaly, but there were more great people out there.
They needed all the support they could get to keep helping even more kids like me.
Sometimes I felt so far away from the kid I was in Greenwood, and other days I swore I’d crack my eyes and be back in my bedroom with the padlock on the door.
Right now, I didn’t feel like that kid.
The Headstrong Foundation conference rooms on the two floors we occupied had been transformed into a TV and photo studio to film all the promotions. Walls were covered in fabric, everything outside the halo of lights overhead was black, extra electrical cables and cords were run in and taped down to the floor, and lights were everywhere.
The open door leading to the hallway was the only source of light other than the rigs flooding the space like spotlights.
My suit was tailor-made. Not just altered, but made from scratch to fit my exact measurements—but at this moment, I felt like someone had squeezed me into a women’s size 2 dress from The Gap.
At least I wasn’t wearing a tie. Not that it was doing me any favors.
Interviews didn’t faze me anyone. At least I didn’t think they did. But talking about the game and talking about myself were two different things. Monica and I had talked about it a lot, and it was finally time. I’d never be free of my past if I spent all my time trying to pretend it didn’t happen.
One of the audio techs attached the mic to the lapel of my blazer.
Gwen hovered behind him. “You have the Sports Central interview now and then you’re doing a promo that’ll air tonight and we’ll post online to let people know there are still VIP tickets left and to tell them Bay will be performing.”
My head snapped up. “Bay?” She’d accepted.
After not hearing back from Gwen, I’d thought the goodbye in Bay’s hotel suite would be the last time we saw each other. I’d prepared myself for it and made my peace with it. I’d been wrong.
“I know! It’s insane. The foundation hired an event coordinator, Everest, who has some connection to her people and put in a Hail Mary invite. It took some back and forth with her people, but she said yes. Can you believe it? We should’ve charged more for the tickets.” Gwen was buzzing with excitement. She’d been pissed she’d missed Bay back at the concert.
My brain shot into overdrive. I would be seeing her again. At least twice. My heart drummed in my chest. “Bay’s coming today and she’s performing at the SeptemberWeen Carnival.”
Gwen checked her tablet. “Yes. She should be here any minute. Her manager, Holden, said they were running a few minutes late after she left the studio. We’ve confirmed with Bay’s team that we can offer another level of tickets for a meet and greet with her.”
“Taking this on at the last minute is a big favor. Let’s not overwhelm her with extra requests.” The shock of Gwen’s announcement hadn’t worn off yet. My lips felt numb. I hadn’t prepared myself. I hadn’t had time to run through how this day would go when I saw Bay again.
“Holden is the one who suggested it to boost the revenue for the event. We can offer it as an add-on for anyone who’s purchased tickets already.”
Holden was offering her up for even more beyond what we’d asked for? How much was the guy pushing her?
Bay was going to be here. Bay was going to be at SeptemberWeen.
A guy with a headset stepped up before her. “Mr. Keyton, we’re ready for you.”
I sat in the chair under a silver-lined umbrella. The lights blinded me to much else in the darkened room, but I could feel all eyes on me. There were seven people in the room: the ones handling the cameras and audio, Gwen, the interviewer, and others for whatever task was needed for the event to run smoothly.
My neck heated under my collar and I flexed my hands on my legs.
More noise came from the hall and a herd of people popped into view, walking past the door before doubling back.
In the middle of all the people on phones and tablets was Bay, backlit, features obscured by the shadows. She was here.
Every time I saw her felt like the first time watching her on her back steps. It dragged me out of whatever I was going through and toward her. I just wanted to be near her.
Gwen rushed over and spoke with the new arrivals in hushed tones.
The interviewer with perfectly placed hair and a country club look sat across from me with notecards and stuck the earpiece in place. After introducing himself and walking me through the bullet points of the fluff piece, he sat in the chair opposite me.
“We’re here tonight supporting a wonderful cause, and we have with us the belle of the proverbial football ball, Darren Keyton. Thank you for speaking with us. You’ve been called many things over your last five seasons. The Championship Curiosity, The Winning Wonder, and my personal favorite, The Football Four-Leaf Clover.”
“I’ve heard those a few times in my career.” At least he hadn’t gone with glorified mascot or overrated ornament.
“While we could go on and on about your special brand of championship team magic, we’re here to talk tonight about a charity you began shortly after your trade to Philadelphia a little over two years ago. Why is it that you’ve taken such an interest in youth outreach? And why in Philadelphia after playing for teams in LA, Miami and Charlotte?”
“I went to school here and have a good group of friends in the area, so this was a natural place to want to begin the work of Headstrong Foundation. There are a lot of worthy causes in the world and it’s hard to choose only one. So I worked with a team—” My throat tightened. Past the lights and people standing in the room, I could feel Bay watching me.