Having another source of income sounded amazing. As a rookie, his pay barely covered the bills. He could start delivering pizza part-time or pick up some day labor shifts working in construction—a lot of the players admitted to doing that their first year. Using his business degree would definitely help him financially, but Grant wanted to focus on the sport and almost any job in that field would take way more time than a delivery route.
If he followed Silas’ advice and built a brand around soccer and his workouts, he’d be able to have some extra cash for doing what he loved.
He sat down on a bench and watched the video Cardosa had taken of him running through his workout. He looked good despite wanting to throw up the entire time from pushing so hard.
Grant knew he’d get a lot of likes, so he pulled up Instagram on his phone. Silas insisted it was the best platform for attracting fitness companies. He posted the video and, because he couldn’t help himself, he pulled up Frida Hall’s account.
At first, Grant hadn’t given her a second thought. He gained followers everyday thanks to Silas’ advice. But when she liked several of his posts all at once, he’d visited her profile. After a quick glance at her pictures, he was glad he had. Frida Hall was friends with Emmeline O’Brien. He knew that because she was in about half of Frida’s posts, smiling brightly in each of them.
She was just as gorgeous as he remembered.
Was she talking about him to Frida? He had to imagine she was since Frida had started following him only days after he and Em had met at City Bar. Until now, Grant had been too afraid to request to follow her private account, not wanting to look like a crazy stalker.
But after posting his workout—which had already gained a lot of views and likes—he felt bold. He hit request and waited. It wasn’t like following her on Instagram was trying to date her.
When he went back to Frida’s profile and looked at Emmeline’s smile, however, he wondered if he’d ever be satisfied with just being her friend.
Emmeline
“How’s Grant’s Instagram looking today?” Frida asked Emmeline softly.
The two of them were sitting in the back of the auditorium as the school’s principal held an assembly about fundraising. The entire school would sell candy bars to earn money for special programs—like art supplies for Frida’s class.
Em turned her screen off and put her phone in her pocket. She kept her eyes trained on the stage. “I-I wasn’t looking at Instagram. I was responding to a parent’s email.”
That was a boldfaced lie. Em had been looking at a picture of Grant that showed off the tattoos on his left arm. Thankfully, the darkness of the room hid the way she’d been drooling over it. What was it about boys and ink?
She’d tried not to look at it very often, but once he’d requested to follow her account, it was like the dam burst. She’d followed him back and scrolled down through all his old posts. They were mostly about workouts—which wasn’t necessarily bad.
But when she went back even further, she found pre-Storm Grant.
She liked pre-Storm Grant for a host of reasons that didn’t involve his muscles or his tattoos.
For one, family was important to him. There were quite a few pictures of him with his parents, his sister, and his nieces in his hometown of Kansas City. He never looked embarrassed to have his arm over his mom’s shoulder when they posed for the camera, and the smile on his face when he was with his nieces was sweet and genuine.
Then there was his time in college. She loved seeing his personality in his posts about studying for finals, wandering around downtown Macon, and hanging out with his college friends.
Not only that, his older posts were cheesy. He had a tendency to use puns and dad jokes as his captions, and Em enjoyed seeing that part of him. The part of Grant that wasn’t so...athletic.
Like when he’d dressed up like Dwight from the office the previous Halloween. His caption read: Is it bad that I actually like Battlestar Galactica?
It was one of her all-time favorite shows, and she’d never known another person to feel the same way about it. Sure, Frida had given it a gallant effort but stopped after six episodes. She’d binge-watched the remaining seventy by herself—sometimes forgetting to sleep.
She couldn’t believe Mr. Soccer really enjoyed it, so she’d tested him and commented: Prove it.
Five minutes later, he’d sent her a DM with the names of the Final Five Cylons—in the order they were revealed.
After that, Em knew she was in trouble. She didn’t send anymore DMs, too afraid to get to know him better, but she enjoyed looking every day to see if he posted something new. And every time she posted, she felt a thrill waiting for him to like it.
“What did they want?” Frida asked.
Em looked over. “Huh?”
“The parents you were just emailing. What did they want?”
Her face burned. “Oh, to schedule a conference.”
“A conference. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Frida leaned in close and whispered, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a little one-on-one time with Grant.”
“I wasn’t…” Em leaned back in the hard, plastic chair. “Fine, I was looking at his Instagram. Happy?”
Frida shook her head causing her dark curls to bounce. “I’d be a lot happier if you didn’t feel the need to hide it from me. You act like I don’t see the way you’re both treating the app like it’s Match.com.”
Em sat up and looked around to see if any of the other teachers had heard Frida. Her best friend teasing her was one thing, but Em didn’t want her coworkers to overhear them talk about a dating site—especially since she wasn’t on one. She narrowed her eyes at Frida.
“I follow you both. I
