How To Write a Love Song

Tuesday night at summer league, Sara catches the disc on an in-cut, takes one look, and then turns to dump to Joe, except she gets hand-blocked, which is like super amateur and she feels bad about the whole thing.

While sitting with her accordion afterwards, she thinks about him, the boy she's known since he was on her team three seasons ago who can throw hucks like it is his job and who found her keys for her when she dropped them after the fourth game and who is just a cool guy, you know, the sort of really nice-looking handler that any city club team or recently graduated 22-year-old Spanish Econ double major would be lucky to call their or her own, respectively. She wills her fingers to come up with a song that could express exactly what she feels about him, which she isn't even sure of herself.

Thursday night after the game she calls him on the phone to ask if he took her disc by accident. He puts it into his backpack and bikes it over to her and ends up staying and talking for three hours until 12:30, which is the sort of hour at night we all know you can only talk until if you are in love or discovering love or at least involved in a pretty serious bromance. They are both tired the next day at work, and with every futile cup of coffee they think: this was worth it.

Saturday during finals weekend the team is in the red zone and Sara jukes in on the the force lane, takes three steps out until her defender bites, and then cuts towards the break side endzone corner towards Joe, who knew where to put the disc as soon as he saw that first fake, flip flip flip, his arm comes up - this is the amazing part, his arm just comes up, not across or around, and he lifts it to the spot where she runs it down.

He drives her home and she gets out her accordion again when there is already something of a melody in her head. She knows she'll have trouble rhyming with "huck", but for the first time she finally knows what to write about.