It was Sunday, June twelfth. Ever since I had entered the Sanders's front door, the house had been a breeding ground for chaos. Rachel was inviting cameramen from Major League Baseball into the living room, Noah was running around making sure that he looked good enough to be on television, and several people were chattering loudly in the living room at Will. And they were clearly talking at him and not to him, because all he was doing in response was staring at the ground in front of him.
He had a white dress shirt on with navy slacks, and his hands were clasped tightly under his chin as chaos ensued around him. I was wearing a loose gray dress that I hoped wouldn't look too matchy with Will. However, ever since I had walked it that wasn't even a concern, because I was too scared to go sit next to him. I had never felt this level of awkwardness in the Sanders's house, but there were too many foreign people here and my stomach twisted with butterflies.
"We're on in twenty five minutes, who is sitting on the couch with Will?" One of the head cameramen yelled from a few feet away.
"River will be on one side of him and Rachel will take the other. Noah will sit next to River and I'll sit next to my wife," Koa answered from across the room, gesturing for Noah to get out of the bathroom
"We usually recommend that the family sits next to the prospect and a significant other stands behind the couch or sits right outside of the family members..." the man stated, avoiding eye contact with me and focusing on Koa.
Koa folded his strong arms over his chest and stared down the employee. "River is family, and she has been best friends with Will for most of his life. He already made it clear that he wants her next to him, so that's what we'll do."
"It's just for the future in case anything happens in the relationship, just as a protective measure..." the guy tried again. I twisted a ring on my right hand nervously, not sure what to do.
Finally, Will lifted his head from his hands with an exasperated expression on his face. "Quit it, we all understand what you're saying. She's sitting next to me on the stupid couch."
That finally got him to shut up, and we all assumed our spots on the couch. The rest of my family entered through the slamming screen door out front and joined the crowd of family and friends behind the couch but in the frame of the camera.
Will ran a hand through his hair that was a actually not in a hat, one of the only times it was loose except for when he was surfing. It was swept back and curling at the ends, but mostly tucked away from his face.
I slipped my hand into his free one, feeling its clamminess and noting his bouncing knee. "They don't send this big of a camera crew for nothing," I noted. He nodded tersely, attention focused on the pre-draft show on the television.
Time passed slowly, crawling by as the announcers discussed each professional team and who they might be eyeing. Eventually, it came time for names to start being called.
The Orioles picked first, calling the name of a player from UCLA. This was unsurprising; no one had expected Will's name to be called first. Then came a pitcher out of Vanderbildt. The cameras kept recording us all.
Will gently removed his hand from mine and started flipping his phone into the air and catching it. A call would come through extending him an offer before it was announced on live television; even though we were watching the announcements, we were really just waiting for a call.
The commentators went back to discussing a shortstop out of LSU who was predicted to be called soon, and Will continued to twirl his phone through the air. He was probably on his tenth toss when I heard it buzz. He caught it, staring hard at the number of an unknown caller.
I heard him inhale sharply before he pursed his lips and glanced up at me, a hundred feelings swirling in his dark eyes. Another glance at his beaming father and borderline crying mother convinced him to swipe and accept the call.
The whole room collectively held its breath as he spoke. "Hello?"
"Yes, this is," he continued, listening. "Thank you very much sir, I would like to accept the offer."
A shout of joy threatened to escape from my chest as soon as he put the phone back down, but the cameraman was frantically gesturing for us to stay composed. They needed the reaction for the film.
"And, with the fourth pick of the amature draft, the Boston Red Sox select infielder Will Sanders," the commentator called through the television.
A flurry of movement came from every angle of the room, with people swarming over Will. Noah leapt across me to thump his little brother on the back, and Rachel was probably squeezing all of the air out of his lungs. Koa was looking over at his son proudly, blinking back tears. I could only sit there grinning and squeezing Will's thigh gently as he smiled around at everyone. Evan jumped over the couch and jammed a Red Sox hat over his head.
"Here, Will," one of the cameramen shouted to be heard as he handed Will an earpiece and a microphone.
An interviewer from somewhere across the country proceeded to congratulate Will for a few seconds, although we were behind on the TV and couldn't actually hear the questions. "Thank you sir, it's an honor. I've been dreaming about this for a long time." Will said, fighting to contain another grin.
He spoke for a few more seconds and the rest of us watched the closed captions on the television that were appearing on a delay. Finally, they wrapped up and moved onto the next selection, prompting the camera crew to turn off their lights and pack up the equipment. As soon as they turned off the room again erupted in cheers. Will stood up and pulled me into his arms, spinning me around and laughing excitedly.
"Fourth overall, I'm so proud of you, Will," I said quietly in his ear.
His smile was uncontainable. "I'm happy you could make it home."
The crowd of people collapsed on us soon after, and I took a few steps back to watch all of Will's closest friends congratulate him. Noah was jumping all over his little brother, and Rachel was standing back recording the moment and trying not to cry. Kids from the high school baseball team were yelling at their former teammate and telling him not to forget them, and adults from church gave handshakes.
After watching for a few minutes I stepped down the hall to use the bathroom. The moment I closed the door everything came crashing down over me. Will had just been drafted to play professional baseball. On the East Coast. While I was on tour competing as a professional surfer. I thought that things were hard now, but he still lived in Hawaii. Now he would be spending all of baseball season on the continental United States, but now even in California or places I might be surfing.
How had I not considered this fully?
It must have been minutes later, but the knock on the door seemed to sound the moment after I had walked into the bathroom. I hadn't even moved from my spot by the door since I had been faced with reality. A glance at the mirror showed red eyes looking back at me, but no tears yet. I twisted the door handle open and walked out of the bathroom with my head down, ducking quickly out of the side door.
Ten bounding steps across the grass landed me on my back porch, and a few more got me to my room. I closed the door quickly behind me before collapsing onto my bed, sobs immediately being released.
It was selfish for me to behave this way-- but how could I not be sad? My best friend, the boy I was in love with, my biggest fan, would all be gone. He deserved his dream to come through, but why couldn't it have been closer to home?
I got under the covers and cried, and I was still curled up beneath my comforter when Will tapped his classic knock on my door an hour later. My eyes were definitely still red from crying, so I rubbed them as hard as I could. Straightening my clothes I called out to him to come in.
"Hey, what happened? Is everything okay?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows when he saw me.
"I don't want to ruin your day," I mumbled, staring at the floor.
"Riv, what's the matter?" Will sat down a few feet away from me on the bed.
"Boston?" I croaked. The tears were threatening to spill over again. "Boston?"
"It's not the worst team ever," He said, looking a little confused.
I glanced at him. "Will, there's no surf in Boston."
He slipped his hand into mine, "We've done long distance before, we can do it again. I'll come home for the offseason, and if you can come visit me, you're welcome any time. And I've heard there's some surf, just nothing great."
"We've done long distance for the past two years, and it's been so hard. Maybe it was stupid but I was at least hoping for a California team. Your contract could be for years, if not your whole career! Are we supposed to be long distance until you're forty and retire?" I responded.
He pulled back slightly with a hurt expression on his face. "Riv, I love you. I'll do anything for you except give up on this contract. I think that's the only fair thing after I let you do everything on tour with no complaints."
"I don't want you to give it up. You're a prospect for a legendary team, and you've worked harder than anyone I've ever seen to get where you are. I don't want you to give it up for me. But I can't do the two-text a day relationship for an indefinite period of time. I know you won't do anything to hurt me, but I can't think of you and your team out with girls all over you without wanting to puke at the thought. I love you, Will, but it's only going to get harder."
"So what do you want to do, break up now?" He snapped. "Give up all of the good times because it got hard?"
I wiped my eyes. "Yeah."
Will's face went from mad, to shocked, to crushed in a matter of seconds. "If that's what you want, fine. There's clearly nothing that I can do to change your mind."
He got up and turned towards the door. "I still love you," I whispered.
"It doesn't feel like it," He responded without looking at me.
Twenty minutes later my phone was vibrating with messages from Noah.
Noah: Where's Will, we're looking for him for dinner
River: I don't know
Noah: You're not with him?
River: No
Noah: Can you see if you can find him? He's not answering me
River: Sorry, I can't help
Noah: Why the heck not? We kind of need him to celebrate him...
River: I broke up with him.
Noah: YOU WHAT
Noah: RIVER WHAT THE HELL
Noah: DON'T PLAY GAMES
River: I did. I don't know where he is
Noah: Honestly what is wrong with you
Noah: I've never seen him more happy in his life than when you hugged him after he got drafted
River: I had to
Noah: That's such bs
Noah: You didn't need to do anything other than be happy for him
Noah: Evan's going to beat you up
River: I'm leaving in an hour for Australia. Hope you can find him for the party.
There was nothing left to do other than get on the flight and pour everything into surfing. Surfing was controllable, even as everything at home fell apart.