When I got to training camp in Chicago, they asked me if I wanted to keep eighty-three, but I decided it was time to change it to my actual favorite day.” My birthday. March eighth. Thirty-eight. He’s been wearing my birthdate on his jersey for six years and I had no idea. He slowly turns over his shoulder to look at me. I lean my chin on my arm that’s resting on him, a painfully big smile on my mouth. “So, you like really like me, huh?” I tease quietly for only him to hear. “I think we both know it’s a little deeper than that, even if we’re still pretending it’s one of those unspoken
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CALLED IT
