Page 33 of Catch and Cradle

“Ugh, remind me never to drink again. You were right about the hangover. This sunlight is killing me.”

She reaches over and pats my shoulder.

“Okay, so let’s go with your, um, theory,” she says in a voice that makes it clear she’s even less convinced than I am. “What happens next?”

“Well...” I roll my shoulders back a few times. “I guess I’ll tell her I’m sorry it happened, that it was a mistake, and that we’ll just be teammates like we’ve always been from now on.”

Kala winces. “Ouch.”

“She’ll be fine,” I insist. “I really don’t think she’s going to have any trouble finding someone else to kiss.”

“I meant ouch for you, Becca. She clearly means something to you, and you’re just going to cut it all off? I mean, what if you could have a really nice friendship? You and I have actually dated, and that hasn’t stopped us from staying friends.”

“Thank god for that.” Now it’s me patting her arm. “I don’t need to be messing around with complicated friendships. I already have the best friendship I could ever ask for.”

She fluffs up her hair. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Speaking of, I’ve been a shitty friend. We haven’t talked at all about your summer. How was the family?”

She groans just as our server approaches with two plates of eggs Benedict balanced on a tray with a couple giant glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. We spend the rest of the meal talking about her summer job working for her dad’s investment firm. Her family is pretty right wing, and she’s still deciding whether or not she’s ever going to tell them she’s bi.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to come out on campus at all, but that got decided for her when Lisa took it upon herself to out Kala to the whole team. Freshman year wasn’t exactly a picnic for either of us, and that’s part of what made it so hellish: knowing I’d roped my best friend into my own mess when she already had more than enough to handle.

By the time we’ve paid and headed out of the restaurant, I’m more convinced than ever I need to pull the plug on anything besides a cordial acquaintanceship with Hope.

No matter how gorgeous her eyes are.

Or how fucking amazing she is at kissing.

Or how she makes me laugh with all her dorky moments.

Or how being alone with her feels like putting the whole world on pause and just being for a while.

I think that’s what’s hardest to turn my back on—even harder than the kissing. I’ve only really gotten a taste of what spending time with her is like, but I haven’t clicked with someone like that in a long time. I haven’t really let that happen. My role as captain comes first. It has to. It’s who I am.

“Study date this week?” Kala asks once we’re back out on the sidewalk.

She’s a business major and has an even more intense study schedule than I do. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already prepping for assignments.

“Of course! I’ll text you my practice schedule, and we can figure something out.”

We hug goodbye, and she heads off to finish getting settled back into her apartment. I consider going home to look over my new textbooks, but I know I’ll probably just end up pacing around my room, so I head for the athletics centre to burn off some energy.

I have a few sets of workout clothes stashed in my lacrosse locker. I change out of my t-shirt and denim shorts, trying and failing to shut down the mental replay of that day Hope walked in here while I was half-naked.

“No, no, no,” I chant to myself as I slam my locker closed. “None of that. It’s done now. It’s done.”

The student gym is all but empty. I power through a few stretches and then switch one of the ellipticals on. I know I should go slow to warm up, but I’m craving a sweat. I need a fast enough rhythm to lose myself in the strain and power of my body for a while.

Twenty minutes later, my legs feel wobbly and my flyaway hairs are sticking to the sides of my face. I can feel the sweat pooling in the band of my sports bra, and my lungs are heaving. I feel lighter, though. Clearer. It’s like a layer of haze has been wiped away.

I do a couple dumbbell sessions after that and then head back to the elliptical to finish off the workout. When I finally power the machine down, I feel like I’ve stepped back into my body after being stuck floating around outside.

This is me. Becca Moore: lacrosse captain, straight A student, model scholarship recipient. Focused. Determined. As Kala would say, stubborn as hell.

This is who I want to be.

I’m still panting after I’ve finished my stretches. I grab my water bottle and chug half of it down as I head for the gym doors. I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand and then screw the bottle lid on before looking up to reach for the door handle.

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