Page 66 of Between Love and War
“You should rest,” I say. She doesn’t argue. Just nods and curls up into a ball like she’s done this a hundred times before. I pull the blanket over her without thinking.
“Thanks,” she says. And I know it’s not just for the blanket. It’s for the company. For staying. For not making her feel weird about needing someone there.
“Anytime,” I say, surprised that I mean it much more than I thought I would.
I swing my legs off her bed and plant my feet on the floor, but I don’t stand up right away. I’m still looking at her, already half asleep, arms tucked under her chin.
“I’m serious about trying to help you, though. And I won’t even ask for too much in return.”
She opens one eye.
I grin. “I just need the recipe for those cookies.”
She groans and throws a pillow at me without lifting her head.
I catch it midair, laughing.
“I’ll see you later, Katie.”
But she’s already drifting as she waves a lazy hand at me.
Little League wrapped up about twenty minutes ago.
Without Miss Kate there to round up the chaos with her weird but effective way of cheerleading, the whole thing felt… lopsided. The kids were still loud and wild and sugar-fueled, but there wasn’t anyone gently reminding them to use theirkindhands, not theirmeanhands, or passing out the post-practice fruit cups with stickers for ‘good hustle.’
She’s the only one who makes an effort when it comes to that stuff. That’s why the kids love her.
I ran drills, refereed a mini scrimmage, and only got hit in the face with the ball once. A new record.
Still, it felt like something was missing. Maybe it was just me noticing it more than anyone else.
After we wrapped up and the kids filed out with their water bottles and neon drawstring bags, I stayed back to help the other teachers clear up cones and stray basketballs. And now, I’m here, still sitting on the bench, dribbling a ball.
Just as I’m about to go, my phone rings, and Heather’s name pops up.
I sigh, and lay on my back on the long benches. I stare at the gym ceiling and click the green button.
“Hey,” I say, wiping my forehead with a towel. “What’s up?”
“You finally picked up,” she says, brisk and caffeinated. “I was starting to think your new life plan was to vanish into a preschool.”
She’s been calling me since this morning, but I was rather… busy.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
“Actually, the question is how I can help you,” she says. “Got an offer for you.”
I roll my neck against the tension building there. “What kind of offer?”
“An interview. Big name outlet. Gentle angle. Humanizing, sympathetic, nothing aggressive. Just a chance for everyone to see you again and maybe empathize.”
I don’t respond right away. I stare at the overhead lights in the gym, then shut my eyes.
Heather’s voice softens, just slightly. “Look, I know it’s been a mess. And you’re probably hoping if you lie low long enough, this all blows over. But it won’t. Everyone’s asking about you, and I’m running out of excuses. Nobody except your teammates know about the community service. Others think you’re just laying low. And it’s gonna give the wrong impression if you don’t speak at all, then just show up during training.” She pauses for a while, then continues, “This could help.”
I sigh. I haven’t even thought about it. My friends mentioned that the SEA Games will open soon. And I have to practice eventually.
“Yeah,” I say eventually. “Maybe.”
