Page 19 of Resilient Love

My leg shakes,bouncing my laptop as I balance it on my thighs. Everything feels foggy, and it’s difficult to know if the words written on the screen make any sense at all. Much like my room.

I can’t find my comforter.Where could it be if not on my bed?

My desk is covered in clothing; half-filled water bottles and old protein shakers litter the surface.

I’ve tried cleaning but I’m sure…

My eyes snag on a team photo from last season—it’s tacked to the corkboard by the door.

Myteam.Right. That’s what I was doing.

We have an away game on Wednesday, and as much as I appreciate my teammates standing by me, I can’t let them down for my own selfish reasons.

So despite all reason,I stopped taking my meds. All traces of them should be out of my system by today.

None of my roommates know, because if they did, they’d be losing their shit. Rightfully so. I’m putting myself and my team in a really horrendous position, but it’s just for a few days. As soon as I pass that test, I’ll start taking them again. Problem solved.I hope.

Except, my thoughts are already feeling too jumbled, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep track of what I need to accomplish today. I chalk that up to withdrawal symptoms and push the thought from my mind, staring at my laptop screen, preparing to hit “send” on the email I drafted to Rafael. It takes longer than I’d like to steady my wavering hands and actually go through with it, but within seconds of sending it, a response stares back at me.

All the email says is, “Okay.”

Who’d have thought that a single word would be capable of fuelling so much anxiety?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TUESDAY, APRIL 8

I’m notsure what made her change her mind, but I’m glad she did. If they hadn’t agreed to the drug testing, I’d have had to explain to Elise’s father why they weren’t going to their away game tomorrow. That’s not a conversation I have any desire to have. I’m not her fucking babysitter, despite what she’s previously accused me of. She’s an adult, and I’m not here to snitch to her father about her actions, but she’s been making that increasingly difficult.

It would’ve made sense to have them come in for testing yesterday, but there was a little part of me that wanted to give every one of them the extra day to get whatever the hell they needed to out of their systems. I’m pretty sure cranberry juiceand saunas don’t do a goddamn thing for a drug detox, but it’s worth a shot when your future in sports is on the line.

I sit in my office, my fingers drumming over the oak desk, and a heavy weight sits on my chest.I hate waiting.

I’m far from a patient man, and not knowing what’s going on out there is driving me wild.

Not to mention Elise’s strange demeanour. She was entirely too excited about tomorrow's game, her voice a high-pitched shrill as she spoke rapidly. Chelsea tried to brush it off as a caffeine high, but I know in my gut there’s something else going on. That in itself bothers me because I want to know what’s going on with my team at all times, and I feel like Elise is such a wild card that I’ll never be awarded that kind of peace.

There’s a knock on the door, and Paige, someone on the medical staff for the university's sports program, pops her head inside, giving me a broad smile. “Hey,” she says, waving a hand clutching a stack of papers, “they’re all clear. You’re good to go tomorrow.”

A relieved breath exhales from my lungs in a rush, my body sagging into the plastic chair. I give her a tight smile. “Thanks,” I say, nodding at her as I stand, collecting the papers and heading into the locker room to meet with the team.

My trainers squeak along the tile flooring; the sound makes me cringe, but nothing can dim the relief of not having to report anyone for drug use. I stand in the centre of the locker room, all of the young women seated or standing by their lockers as they wait for the verdict that decides tomorrow’s fate. “You’re all set for tomorrow. Make sure you’re packed and ready to go by noon,” I say, turning on my heel, but my eyes drag across Elise.

She jumps up on a metal bench seat, waving her hands over her head with a broad smile stretched across her lips. Her hair is a mess, with a pink feather tucked into her messy bun. It’s such a contrast to the black-and-white ensembles she tends towear, and no matter how leisurely her attire tends to be, there’s a certain elegance about her. But today, she looks like she got dressed in the dark…at a thrift shop…with an eighties theme.

“Oh my gosh, such good news!” she shouts, doing a little dance, and my heart rate picks up, her teammates' eyes swinging between one another, brows quirked in silent question.

What the fuck is going on?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9

My heart isin my throat as I sneak down the steps and into the kitchen, moving as quietly as I can through the old house. The floorboards creak beneath my feet, and I halt my movements, holding my breath as I listen for any sign that someone’s awake. The only sound is my pulse pounding in my eardrums.

When the quiet drags on, I open the wooden cabinet where Elise’s medication sits in a small white plastic bin. I pull it down and then pop the top off of the lithium bottle first and pour them out on the counter, counting each one as quickly as I can. My brow furrows, my chest tightening. According to the date shefilled this, she’s only missed a couple of doses. That doesn’t make any sense.

I recount them, coming to the same conclusion before placing the bottle back in the basket, repeating the process with the other medications she’s supposed to take daily. Each time, I get the same number.

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