The radio station airs local high school sporting events and live radar reports during storms, interrupting music for hours-one of the 4,724 reasons I want to leave this town.
I quickly glance at my phone and note it is nearly two o'clock as we finish up our meal. In my mind, I know it is day two of the draft. It started at noon today, our time with round three. My nerves kick into high gear as I realize his call might come at any moment.
“Can I drive us back?" I ask Hamilton as I follow him to the driver's door.
He tilts his head to the side and furrows his brow. “Why?"
“My stomach feels a little off from eating lunch so late. I don't want to get carsick," I lie. It's a half-truth. My stomach is in all kinds of knots but not for the reason I gave him. I climb behind the wheel as H
