*Slow updates*
After agreeing to be the focus of a college article,
senior Charlie Murtaugh gets more than he bargains for when he's assigned a clueless sophomore who knows nothing about the sport.
...
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"Can we talk about her? The girl—Lorraine Perabo?" I watch as Schumacher scribbles in his little notebook naturally like this is a regular session. Like I didn't come knocking at his home door at 1 am in the morning demanding to talk. Well not so much as demanding—firmly asking is more appropriate. If Schumacher was pissed that I disrupted his beauty sleep, he did—is still doing— a fine job of hiding it. He did tell me if I had woken his 6 month old son (which I had no idea he had), he would have had me arrested. "That's a German surname, is she German?"
"Half. Her mum's Colombian."
"Hnm. She must be beautiful."
"You can't begin to imagine just how f*cking beautiful she is Doc." Our eyes meet for a moment and for a brief second, Schumacher's eyes shines with an emotion that I've seen countless of times. That proud look he has when he realises that I'm being honest. I look away from him, palming my face as I try to get myself to focus. Focus on why I'm having an impromptu meeting with Schumacher at this time of the night. "Coach Nellie absolutely cannot know I'm here." I tell him, leaning back in my chair and running my hand through my hair. "We are under a strict 8 hours of sleep rule until finals." I add, omitting the 'and I know the two of you talk and you have no regards to the whole patient confidently thing when it comes to me' that's at the tip of my tongue.
Schumacher nods, "So, this Lorraine girl, you told her about Robin?"
I swallow, feeling my throat dry up. "Yeah." Schumacher watches me as I consider what to say next. But everything in my head is so jumbled up, I'm having trouble expressing myself. "I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said no."
I grimace as I watch him scribble on the journal perched on his crossed legs. Not out of embarrassment —I could never regret asking Lorraine to be my girlfriend. There has always been something unsettling about Schumacher picking and choosing the things that get to go in his journal.
"She did?"
I nod. "She thinks that I asked her because I let her in, like, told her stuff about me. I don't know, I don't know how to explain it."
"Why did you ask her to be your girlfriend? You said you wasn't ready because of Alexis and Bradley. Something must have changed for you."
"I guess so."
"What do you think that is?"
I blow out a breath, readjusting in my seat. "I trust her." I say truthfully. "I don't think I've trusted anyone in a while and it feels good. I trusted her with Mila—I don't trust anyone with my niece." Schumacher is watching me with a pursed lip and a thoughtful look that makes me want to put an end to this conversation. Session. Whatever this is. But I don't, I push through. "I gave her a hard time when we met because of it. I didn't understand it."
