Page 74 of Game On
I hesitate, the words heavy on my tongue. How do I tell her I understand her disappointment without dismissing her pain?
“I’m sorry foryou, El. I’m sorry your partner got injured, and that you may have lost your shot at qualifying for the Nationals together.” My words tumble out in a rush. “I know how important it was to you. How hard you’ve been working.”
She looks up at me then, her big eyes glossy with unshedtears. When a sniffle escapes her, it’s the final straw for me. She’s trying so hard to keep it together, but I can feel her breaking. Screw the boundaries—I can’t just stand here and watch her crumble.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. She’s stiff for a moment before melting into the embrace, her body trembling as she cries into my chest. When she pulls back, her voice is thick with emotion. “I’m just wretched, aren’t I?”
“Not at all.”
“I care more about not competing than I do about the fact that Ash is hurt. I mean, God, I’m actually crying for myself right now. What does that say about me?”
Her words strike a chord within me that vibrates with too-familiar pain. It’s not just her words—it’s the self-reproach in her voice. It cuts deeper than I expected, and for a moment I’m back in that old house, listening to the ghosts of past regrets that haunted my father.
How do I explain to her that it’s okay to feel let down just as much as she worries about her friend? That she’s not selfish, just human?
My dad spent years mourning the loss of his own dreams, letting them define and eventually consume him. His grief turned into a shadow that darkened our lives for a long time. But that’s not Ella. It could never be.
I look at her, this beautiful girl with her shoulders hunched in defeat, nose scrunched to hold back the tears. This isn’t just about a broken wrist or a missed competition. It’s about every hope and every plan she pinned onthis season, on her entire year abroad, now dangling precariously by a thread.
“It says that you’re passionate about your goals,” I tell her. “That you’re ambitious and driven, and that a setback like this would devastate anyone in your position. You can be selfish for a moment, Davies. Allow yourself to feel, and then you can move through it.”
“I know you’re right. But I just … I just really hatefeeling.”
“Want me to take your mind off it?”
She rolls her eyes, shoving me gently. “I’m not in the mood. So, no thank you for the offer.”
I snort, a smile tugging at my lips. “Not what I meant. There’s a late-night showing at the Stardust. They’re playing a classic tonight.”
She hesitates, mouth screwed up to one side. “Oh, I don’t know. Aren’t you pretty wrecked from the game?”
“Wide awake, actually.”
She works through a hard swallow. “I’m a little tired myself, though.”
“Good thing I’m driving. You can fall asleep in the back if you’d like.”
She wars with herself a bit longer, then, “And you’ll buy me popcorn?”
“Of course.”
“And a large blue raspberry ICEE?”
“Darlin’, I’ll get you whatever you’d like.”
“Yeah, okay, then. Just let me change.”
I take her in from head to toe. She’s still one of the most stunning girls I know, even when she’s a disheveled,vulnerable version of herself. “I quite like the look you have going on already.”
She finally smiles at me, a genuine one that lights up her face. “Fine,” she says, “we’ll do things your way.”
“Hell, yeah, I like the sound of that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ella
It’s one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Ash, Luke, and I are at Skyline again for open tumble. I’m frustrated—disappointed with the situation, with myself—and I can’t seem to hide it no matter how hard I try.
