The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

22. Gabriel

gabriel

. . .

The cool air brushes against my skin as I step out of the communications building, the bite of winter just around the corner, matching the chill creeping into my mood. I shift the weight of my bag on my shoulder. Everything feels a little heavier today, maybe because I miss having my girl here. Having Cecilia beside me in class, walking next to her through the crowded halls, the touch of her fingers brushing mine as we’d weave through campus like it was our own world.

Before all the shit with Austin, seeing her every weekday was a guarantee, part of my routine. But that’s not the case anymore.

It’s been four days since we shared a meal together at my place, and I hate how much I fucking miss her. We’ve both been running on empty—her dealing with attorney meetings about Austin’s sentencing, a swim meet out of town, and me drowning in practices and classes. Even texting back and forth has been a struggle, and I hate it.

It's a stark contrast to when we’d grab lunch between classes, her exasperated smile always lightening my mood, no matter how shitty my day had been.

I run a hand through my hair, thinking about how it felt to kiss her goodbye the other day. She'd been heading out with Adriana, but the way her lips lingered against mine made it clear she missed me too. That connection between us, it's a lifeline I didn’t know I needed until now.

As I cut across campus, my mind drifts to her, wondering what she’s doing right now. Is she home studying or is she putting in some time in the pool?

Hell, I didn’t even get to see her meet the other day. It sucks. I’m used to being there, cheering her on, supporting her. This whole week has just been … off.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, yanking me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and glance at the screen just as I spot Julio coming toward me, cutting through the parking lot.

His black hair is damp, clinging to his forehead, like he’s just come from the locker room. I raise a hand in greeting, meeting him halfway.

“Yo, Gabe!” Julio calls, slapping my shoulder. “How was class?”

“Same as usual, man. What’ve you been up to?” I ask, wondering if I was supposed to train with him today and forgot.

Julio rubs the back of his tattooed neck. “Just putting in a little extra time in the gym,” he tells me. “I had some free time and needed to work through some …” his expression twists into a scowl before he quickly masks it with a failed attempt at a casual shrug. “Just needed to work through some things.”

Right. Some things. That look in his eyes—one I know too well—tells me everything I need to know. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Adriana, would it?”

He huffs out a breath, his face tightening. “Of course not.” But his answer comes too quick.

“Good.” I try to keep my tone light. “I know she’s been kicking it with that guy, Kenji. And I know you’ve?—”

“Seriously, Gabe. I don’t need to know. I couldn’t care less who Adriana hangs out with or what she’s up to.”

His voice goes flat, and the tension rolling off him is almost visible.

“Right.” It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about this though so I let the subject drop.

“Did you happen to see Coach while you were in the gym?” I ask, steering the conversation toward safer ground.

Julio’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. He’s still pretty pissed with how practices have been going.”

“Fucking brutal. Coach ran us hard. Probably harder than we deserved, but I think he’s pissed we’re not clicking like we should be yet.”

I pause, remembering Cecilia’s suggestion the other day. “Cecilia had this idea. She mentioned we might need something to help us bond more. Like, maybe a team BBQ or something before the game this weekend. What do you think?”

Julio raises an eyebrow, mulling it over. He’s silent for a beat, his eyes scanning the ground as he thinks. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons. “Not a bad idea, actually. Could be exactly what we need to loosen everyone up. I’ll talk to Coach, see if we can set something up.”

“That’d be solid,” I say, relieved he’s on board. It's not like a BBQ is going to magically fix everything, but maybe some off-field bonding is what we need. Something’s got to give. “We can keep it low-key, maybe grill at the soccer house.” We don’t usually invite people outside of our crew over, but I think in this instance, we can make an exception.

Julio nods, then tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “Team-only thing, or do we let the guys bring a plus one?”

Fuck. My mind immediately goes to Asher and Adam. Shit. I’m not ready for that.

“What do you think?” I ask, deciding to take the decision out of my own hands. If J wants team only, then the decision is made. If he’s cool with plus-ones … nah. He’s going to say team only. It’s one thing to have them in our space. We might not all be best buds. But we at least know one another. No way is Julio going to be cool with literal strangers just?—

“Let’s do plus ones,” he decides. “If we want the team to jell, they need to feel like we accept not only them but the people they care about.”

That knot in my chest tightens. I swallow hard but manage a nod. “Yeah. Cool. I’ll uh— I’ll get with our boys and we’ll grab groceries and shit this week while you figure out logistics and notify the team.”

“Sounds good.”

My phone buzzes again. Dad’s name flashes across the screen, and my stomach dips.

“I’ll catch you later,” Julio says as I bring my phone to my ear.

“Yeah. Later,” I mutter, watching Julio jog off before I answer the call.

“Hello?” I answer, still getting used to the fact that my dad actually calls me now. We’ve talked a little here and there since my mom’s wedding but I’m still always taken off guard when he calls. Like it’s some foreign and unexpected thing.

“Gabriel,” his voice comes through, sounding tired but casual. “Just wanted to check in. How’s everything going?”

“No complaints,” I say, stepping out of the way of a group of freshmen headed for the dining hall. “Classes are classes. Soccer’s been kicking my ass lately, though. The usual.”

He chuckles, the sound short and quiet, but it’s there. “Yeah, well, that’s what you signed up for, isn’t it?”

“Guess so,” I reply, smirking at the sarcasm lacing his words.

“What about you? Work still crazy?” We tiptoe around the deeper shit. And we fully avoid topics that include Carlos or my mom. I haven’t wholly forgiven my father, but I can’t say I hate him anymore, either. Our relationship is complicated, but he's trying. And that’s more than he’s done before.

“It’s always crazy,” he answers, and I can practically hear him leaning back in his chair, probably rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s stressed. “But I’ve been making time. I uh … I went on a date last weekend.”

I blink, not sure if I heard him right. Dad went on a date? Weird, but ... good, weird. Right? Mom went and found someone else already so I mean, why shouldn’t he? “Yeah? How was it?”

“Good,” he says, and I can hear his breath of relief through the phone. “We did dinner and a movie. Your old man’s a little rusty, but I think it went well.”

I laugh—because what else can I do? “Give it time, that rust will fall off real quick.”

We chat a little longer, nothing deep, but casual and easy in a way that feels new between us. He asks me about the upcoming game. How things with Cecilia and me are going. He’s trying, I realize. Really trying to make an effort, and for once, I don’t feel like brushing him off.

“I’ll see you at the game this weekend, right?” I ask, leaning against my bike. The matte black Cbr 1000 rests under the sun like a shadow, its sleek lines swallowing the light. He’s mentioned coming before, but I’ve learned not to expect much.

My pops hasn’t been to a single game at PacNorth, and in high school, he barely made it to any of those. But hearing him say, “Wouldn’t miss it,” settles something inside me.

“Cool. I’ll see you, then.”

“Take care, Gabriel,” he says.

“You too.”

I hang up, staring at my phone for a second longer than necessary. That conversation wasn’t earth-shattering, but ... it was good. It was something.

Throwing my leg over my bike, I rev the engine, the familiar rumble vibrating through me. As I pull out of the parking lot, my thoughts drift back to Asher and Adam, the BBQ, and what the hell it’s going to be like having them there. But then I think about Dad, about how he’s trying to patch things up.

Maybe Cecilia’s right—maybe it’s time I stop pushing people away.