After a few pictures of beat-up but happy players, I left the locker room and waited for Joel outside so he and the rest of the team could shower. He walked out wearing shorts that showed his scraped up legs, a red t-shirt molded to his chest, and his bag slung over his shoulder. I wanted to thread my fingers through his wet hair. He gave me a relieved smile when he saw me waiting outside the locker room.

Sitting his bag down, he planted his arms against the wall behind me, ...