Page 2 of Game On
“Okay, then ring me any time.”
I laugh, shoving her gently on the shoulder. She turns, flashing me a grin, and quickly strips out of her uniform. I head towards my comp locker to do the same, floating a little lighter now. Molly Green’s always had a way of doing that—of cutting directly through the tension, no pretense about her.
I’m still lingering once the room has cleared, slowly zipping up my bag, when our coach approaches. “Davies, got a second?”
I turn. “Of course. Everything alright?”
“More than.” She smiles, her expression softening. “First and foremost, I wanted to congratulate you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
She claps a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been an extraordinary asset to this team over the past two seasons. Your spirit, your dedication, it’s unmatched. Whitland is lucky to have you.”
Her words hit me like a warm embrace, filling me with a sense of pride and gratitude. “Thank you, Bailey, that means a lot. I just hope I’m a good representation of Oxford while I’m there.”
“You will be. Wherever you go, you’ve got the heart of a Siren.”
I tap my palm against my chest, and with one last beaming smile, I say, “Once a Siren, always a Siren.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Two short weeks have passed since our final championship. My room’s in tatters as boxes and bags cover the floor, each one a tiny capsule of memories from the past two years. I move with efficiency, folding clothes while a storm swirls inside my mind.
It’s the first week of June, but for me, it marks the end of an era.
Molly lounges on my bed, her fingers absent-mindedly scrolling through her phone. One of our other friends, Olivia, is kneeling on the floor, taping up one of the many boxes lying around.
“Can’t believe you’re actually leaving us,” Molly says, eyes still glued to her screen.
I let out a stilted laugh, failing to hide my nerves. “I know, right? Feels like I’ll wake up from this dream any moment now.”
Olivia pauses her makeshift assembly line to give me a knowing look. “You’re going to do great things out there. And with Jamie by your side, you’ll have a little piece of home with you.”
Molly’s face twists into a disapproving scowl. “Yeah, exactly right,” she mutters under her breath.
I shoot her a warning glance. “Not now, okay?”
She tosses her hands up. “Fine, fine. Mum’s the word.”
Silence falls over the room as we continue packing, the only sounds that of tape being torn and items being shuffled around. The heaviness of change presses down on me, but I welcome the weight despite my apprehension.
I’m in the midst of folding my favorite jumper—a cozy knit Jamie got me from the Oxford gift shop—when my phone buzzes, breaking the silence. I glance down at my screen to see my boyfriend’s name flashing across it.
Propping the phone between my shoulder and one ear, I say, “Hey. You all set?”
There’s a pause on the other end, a moment of hesitation that stretches too long. “Babe, look, I … I’m not going to be on the flight with you later today.”
I freeze in place. “What do you mean? You’re not going to make it there on time?”
“I’m not going to make it at all.” He sighs, a heavy, burdened sound. “I’ve booked a later flight for myself. I need to … I need to do this alone.”
I frown. My fingers unconsciously twist the hem of my jumper, the frayed fabric tightening in my grip. “Alone?You know I’m not fond of flying, and especially not by myself. I can’t—”
“I’m not talking about just the flight, Ella. I mean this whole thing.”
My friends, sensing the shift in mood, pause their packing to look over at me questioningly.
“Whole thing?” The room spins a little, the words not quiteregistering. “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific before I completely lose my mind.”
