Page 44 of Player Misconduct
“Are you sure you are okay? Because you look like you’re turning a little green.” Cammy asks, mid-bite.
“Yeah,” I say, too quickly. “Just… really need fresh air. I need to get back anyway and check on some more charts with Theo. I’ll see you girls later.”
I stand, gathering my bag and coffee. Then I remember that Theo had to go home early and isn't back at the stadium so there’s no point in going back. But the excuse still stands as I walk to the exit. I need to get away from these smells. Maybe I’m getting the flu? I check my forehead but it doesn’t feel hot.
The bell above the door jingles as I step outside. The spring breeze hits my face, cool and clean. I draw in a slow breath, steadying myself and I do feel a little better at least.
Seattle’s sky is the usual watercolor gray, the streets damp from a morning drizzle. Everything smells like rain and espresso—two things I usually love.
I tell myself it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just exhaustion. It’s just a long season. It’s just—
The word “just” has become my favorite lie.
I walk toward my car, sipping the coffee I don’t want, wishing the world would stop spinning quite so fast.
My phone buzzes the second I start down the sidewalk towards my car.
Tarron:Please don’t ignore me. We used to mean something to each other. Remember?
I stare at the screen until the words blur. It’s ridiculous how fast my pulse spikes. Not because it’s Tarron, God no, but because for one hopeful second, I thought it might be Aleksi.
It’s been six long weeks since I saw his name light up my phone.Are you safe?
And my quick, cowardly reply:Just made it back to Seattle.
His silence now is my fault. And it’s also the right thing for us.
I toss my phone onto the passenger seat, start the car, and sit there with my hands gripping the steering wheel. The light on my dashboard blinks:Low fuel.Same, I think.
For a minute, I consider texting him. Something casual. Harmless.
Like,Hey, just checking in.
Instead, I fish the chain from under my shirt, the one with the tiny resin pendant ring I had an artist jeweler make for me of his athletic tape ring he made for me. It still fits on my ring finger but I know better than to put it there. It’s stupid that I kept it. Aleksi probably threw his ring away the moment he woke to an empty motel room after my escape.
It catches the light, glinting silver against my skin. My secret. No one knows I have it, and even if they did, I never told anyone about what happened that night between us.
They know we were both stuck in a motel in Nevada but besides that, I’ve kept the details to myself, just like I told him that we should.
It’s stupid, sentimental. The kind of thing teenage girls make after summer camp crushes. But the day I came back to Seattle, I couldn’t throw it away. Instead, I preserved it in clear resin, likeI could trap a moment in time. Like I could freeze the way I felt that night before everything became complicated again.
I run my thumb over it and let out a slow breath.
Another buzz. Another text.
Tarron:Consider it dinner with an old friend. I’m buying.
He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Always was. Charming, persuasive… the kind of man who can make destruction sound like romance. I know better now. I’ve lived through it.
And yet, there’s a strange comfort in the familiarity of him. Not love, not even nostalgia. It’s more like the echo of a dance I used to know all the steps to.
I unlock my phone. My thumb hovers.
Before I can decide what to do, I open my socials and search out a name I shouldn’t. It sends me to Aleksi’s page.
Big mistake.
The first photo that pops up is him in Finland, standing on a frozen pond with a whistle around his neck, surrounded by a swarm of kids in matching jerseys. His caption reads:Coaching the next generation.
