Page 7 of Rule 5: Never Crush on the Captain
“I’ll watch him,” I blurt.
Isaiah’s eyebrows lurch upward.
Shit.
Isaiah’s only been here for two years, long enough to act like he knows everything, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how close Evan and I used to be, and suddenly I hate it.
I rake my hand through my hair, sticky with sweat from the game and worry. I square my now bare shoulders. “I’ve got this.”
“Um—” Isaiah’s eyes begin to glide to the others, as if looking for other volunteers, then he stops himself. “Sure, man. I’ll let Jasmine know.”
He taps into his phone.
I march toward Dr. Novak’s office, paste a smile that probably looks maniacal onto my face, then enter.
Evan blinks up at me. He’s sitting on the examination table, and his gaze is groggy. His perfect eyes widen, and his pink lips fall to the floor. “Vinnie?”
“I’m going to be looking after you, once I—”
“Dress?” Dr. Novak’s lips curl.
I jerk my head into a nod, then bolt out of there before anyone can protest.
I reenter the locker room, finish pulling off my clothes, then shower. I tell myself people aren’t staring at me. I tell myself that everything is perfectly fine.
I don’t believe it.
I’m sure nobody does.
My world is wobbly. All I see is Evan going down and not getting up.
I prefer the view of the orange tiles, the garish shade an earlier iteration of the Blizzards team colors. The logo improved, but the bathrooms stayed.
I don’t linger. Evan is waiting for me. I throw on my suit, so we can pretend we’re all complete gentlemen, no matter what the news reports, and haul my ass back to Dr. Novak’s office.
Evan is still there, still looking confused.
I hope that’s not a head injury thing.
“Can he go now?” I ask Dr. Novak.
Dr. Novak nods. “Certainly.”
I look down at Stella. “Let’s get your daddy back home.”
I wait for her to beam.
Stella is the happiest child I know.
Instead, she studies me. Her face is serious as if I’m a multiplication problem. “I remember you.”
“I remember you too.”
“Oh?”
“You stopped visiting us.”
“I’m sorry, Stella.”
