Meant For You

twenty-three.

I shrug, waiting to swallow the food in my mouth before speaking. "He's playing well. I think he's using hockey as a distraction if I'm being honest. I've never seen the kid watch so much tape," I admit. Nola frowns, setting her fork down on top of the glass plate. "Yeah, Ember hasn't been herself. She's trying to pretend like she's okay but I can see through her. Her dads in town for the next two days so I hope that'll cheer her up a bit," she tells me.

After I finish eating, I grab both our plates and set them down in the sink. "Ember close with her folks?" I ask. Nola waits until I return to standing in front of her. "Yeah," she says hesitantly. "If anyone's capable of cheering her up, I think it's her old man, but we'll see. I'm trying to be there for her as much as I can but I'm so busy with practice and when I'm free, she's busy. Or so she says," Nola rants.

"You think she's still mad at you for the whole comforting JT situation?" I question. She lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head. "I quite literally forced her to talk to me about it when we got home. She said she's not mad at me for it and I told her I'd always pick her side first. I think by her silence with me she's made it clear she's still mad," she explains.

I take in her words but don't try to decode them much. Ember sounds like she may still be bothered by the whole situation. Whether she's annoyed at Nola's actions, I can't tell. I don't know the girl enough to figure that one out. The situation is tough for everyone involved so the only thing I hope is that it gets fixed soon.

"The best thing to do now is give them both time. Like you told JT. My boy is in touch with his emotions so I'll let him sort them out on his own. He won't talk to me even if I tried to know how he was feeling. Maybe I'll call his mother," I say. Nola reaches her arm out and grabs my forearm. "Don't call his mother, Miles. Give him time too. He's a sweet boy, he will come around," she replies.

For a second, an unfamiliar feeling passes through me at her words about JT. Trying not to think too much about what that feeling could be, I pull away from her touch and nod. "How have the practices been going, future Olympian?" I change the subject, walking over to the couch. Nola flips around on her barstool and follows me over to the living room. "Not gonna lie, today wasn't too great. I just put on a happy face for JT. Which didn't seem to work anyway," she tells me.

We plop down on the same couch, her turning to face me while my posture stays forward. "What happened?" I ask genuinely. She lets out a sigh. "It's hard, you know? Preparing myself for a competition this big is new to me and the pressure might be getting to me. Also knowing that I compete in two months when there's a lot of work to be done in my routine scares me," she admits. "I'm just trying to stay vigilant with everything."

I take this moment to look at her. She's wearing skin-tight, light pink leggings, a matching long-sleeve shirt, and white tennis shoes. Although covered, I can see her muscles peak through her clothes because of the tightness of them. The girl is petite, yes, but she's strong. I can tell just by looking at her. "You on a diet?" I ask, immediately regretting it. "Fuck, I mean- I didn't mean-"

Nola cuts me off by laughing. "I know you didn't mean it like that. But, yes, I have to be. If I get too heavy, it'll be harder to lift myself higher." As soon as she finishes her sentence, I hear a loud rumble come from her stomach. The piece of cake I had given her was smaller than the one I served myself and JT. Still, I know that growl comes from her newfound diet. Every athlete has experienced that hunger growl before, including myself.

"Want another slice of cake?" I question, raising a brow. Nola shakes her head. "That's enough carbs for me today," she says, placing a hand on her stomach. I look down at her hand before returning my gaze back up to her. Her blue eyes look at me with defeat. Deciding that's my cue to do something, I stand up from the coach. She looks at me confused before I speak. "C'mon, let's go to In-N-Out," I command.