Page 96 of Rookie Season
My eyes go to the beautiful modern art decorating many of the loft’s exposed brick walls. “Fisher.”
“He has great taste,” Mom says, leaning down to scoop up Harry Styles, who has trotted out of my room and made a beeline for her.
“Don’t tell him that, it’ll go to his head.”
“Noted.” Mom smiles, scratching Harry’s head. “Now, honey, why don’t you tell me what’s going on? And start at the beginning.”
I nod. Bite my lip. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”
Mom sinks to the couch and pats the empty cushion beside her. “Good thing I’m a great listener.”
I sit down next to my mother, her soft hand taking mine and stroking gently over my knuckles as I explain everything, starting with last semester and ending with the moment we’re in right now. I hold nothing back, and true to her word, she listens intently. Her eyes flicker in pain multiple times as I talk, but her expression is gentle and non-judgmental as she holds space for me to bare everything and put it on the table.
By the time I’m finally done, we’re both crying, and she takes me into her arms, holding me as we both cry.
When I eventually sit up from our embrace, she leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “First and foremost, I love you, Allegra. I love you beyond words. You and your brother are my life’s crowning achievement, and there’s not a day gone by since I brought you into this world that I haven’t worried about you. It’s a mom’s prerogative, and if you ever decide to become a mother, you’ll understand it. But I’ve been especially worried sick about you these past few months—it was so out of character for you to up and leave like that. I knew something was wrong, but I also wanted to respect you as an adult and trust you in your decisions.”
I suck in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, my sweet girl.” Her hand comes up and cups my cheek softly. “My heart breaks to hear everything you've been through, but I’mglad you told me. I just wish you’d felt able to come to me earlier.”
I look down at my hands. “I wanted to…but I was scared. Not of how you’d react, but scared that if I told you, it would feel more real. So I kept it to myself for a long time, because I thought if I didn’t have to think about it or talk about it, it wouldn’t haunt me anymore.” I shake my head. “That didn’t work. But thankfully, I met Noah.” A smile tugs at my lips as I think of our first meeting and how far we’ve come. “He was able to help me process what I was going through. He’s been through so much more than I could ever imagine, and yet he was there to help me when I needed it.”
“You love him,” Mom says simply.
“I do.”
“And he loves you, too.”
“I think he does, but he hasn’t said it.”
“Legs,” my mom chuckles softly, a glint in her eye. “That man loves you, trust me.”
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I admit. “I just don’t want him to suffer on my account because of his actions today.” I look up at my mother. “I don’t want you to think any less of him because of this. It’s not who he is.”
I’m shocked when my mom snorts. “Sweetheart, now that I know the full story, I thinkmoreof him. I want to punch Tyler in the face myself.”
A half sob, half laugh escapes my mouth, and Mom smiles at me.
“Do you want to call him and see how he is?” she asks.
“I do.” I pull up my phone and call Noah, but it rings and rings before finally going to voicemail. The same thing that happened the last three times I tried to call.
The front door to the loft swings open and I look up tosee Penn and Fisher walking in, wearing matching grim expressions. Guess Fisher filled Penn in on what’s going on.
“Where’s Noah?” I blurt, knowing they all rode to the practice facility together in Fisher’s vehicle.
I half-expect Fisher to make some wisecrack about how the word “hello” is usually the socially acceptable way to greet people, and when he doesn’t, my nerves jangle.
“We don’t know. Coach Anderson left his office, and Noah was still in there. Not sure if he was waiting for someone to come look at his hand or something, but when I asked Coach Slater, he just told us to go home and get some rest before the game instead of telling us where they’d gone, which is some bullshit—” Fisher glances at my mom. “Sorry, ma’am, I meant, um, bullcrap…”
Mom laughs. “Please, it’s Lana.”
“Noah’s not answering his phone,” I say, glancing down at the screen in front of me. I have that shirtless pic of Noah with Harry as my background, and it usually makes me smile every single time I pick up my phone, but right now looking at my boyfriend smiling is just making me feel sick with worry for him.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t worry, Ally.” Penn looks at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners with concern and kindness. “I’ve known Noah for years, and he needs space and time alone to process when things go wrong. He’s probably feeling terrible, doubting himself and what he did when any one of us would have happily knocked that loser out without a second thought.”
“Damn right,” my mom says, nodding her agreement.
