Yet, I can’t seem to bring myself to do the simple act of climbing those steps. I started to, then made the excuse that I needed to use the restroom, which wasn’t a lie. Splashing some cold water on my face helped.
But this is no scrimmage against my teammates. These games set the tone for the rest of the season and help our coaches strategize and make crucial roster decisions.
I don’t want Gabe to regret his decision to bring me on the team. And as captain, I don’t want to let the guys down either.
My phone sits on the counter like a ticking time bomb. Somehow, I have to pull myself together in five minutes to board that bus. I’m tempted to call Kinsley, but I know her. She’s already worried about asking me for too much help as it is. If I share this with her, she’ll quit school and give up on her dream. And I can’t let her do that.
My hands shake as I dry my face with a wad of coarse paper towels. I practice the breathing technique I found online. Inhale for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight. Inhale…hold…exhale. And repeat.
Seems easy enough. My heart slows, and the pressure in my chest lifts. It’s working. Now, if I can drag myself onto the bus and keep breathing…
I pocket my phone, intending to leave the restroom, but the restroom door flies open, and Jayce walks in appearing as anxious as I just felt.
He swallows, then bypasses me to one of the stalls and slams the door shut. Next thing I hear is retching.
For a brief moment, I consider leaving to give him some privacy. But something in my gut says I should stay. I wait for Jayce to emerge, which he finally does, looking less green.
He doesn’t meet my gaze. Just heads to the sink to rinse his mouth and splash water on his face.
“You okay, man?”
He lifts his eyes and looks at my reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, I’m great.”
I allow a tight grin in reaction to his sarcasm. “You’ll be fine. The first game is always the hardest.”
Mostly true. I’ll spare him the rest, as I don’t think he needs more pressure than he’s already feeling.
Indecision scatters across his expression as he dries his face with those course brown paper towels. “Did you puke before your first game?”
I nod. “And the next three. It gets easier.”
He’s thoughtful at first, but then his facial features relax. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I pause, considering what I’m about to say. “If it happens again, come find me. I’ll, uh, talk you through it.” I hold the door open.
“Yeah, okay.” He tucks his chin and rushes out.
I take a moment to consider the irony of the situation—me trying to pull myself together and then winding up giving Jayce a pep talk. Or is that hypocrisy? Because I’m feeling like a hypocrite at this point. If I can’t get my act together, what message will I send to Jayce and the other rookies?
As I walk down the hallway, Sophie exits the women’s room. Seeing her shifts something in me for the better. I can’t describe it—I only know I need it desperately right now, as if she’s some kind of lifeline for me.
The pull to her lengthens my strides until I catch up with her at the exit. I reach my arm out ahead of her to open the door, but my sudden movement startles her, and she jumps back.
“Sorry. I thought you heard me come up behind you.”
She holds a hand over her chest. “It’s okay. Guess I was just lost in my thoughts.”
A breeze wafts through the open door, lifting her floral scent to my nose. I instinctively inhale and find the effect settling. Her presence seems to calm the raging battle in me despite seeming somewhat unsettled herself.
Is that because I startled her or because of something else? “Ready to tackle that interview?”
Her eyes widen for a second, which is impressive since I didn’t think they could get any bigger than they already are. “Are you?”
I’m so distracted by the way the sunlight hits her irises, bringing out the nuances of rich browns and a touch of gold around her pupils, that I have to remind myself to speak. I clear my throat. “I read over your questions last night.”
One brow lifts to match the tilt of her mouth on that side. “Color me surprised.”
If pink is the color of her surprise, she’s wearing a ton of it today. I didn’t know there was such a thing as pink jeans, with tiny yellow flowers and green leaves dotted all over them. At first glance, her top appears white, but compared to the white doorframe, the fabric has a slight blush. Her slip-ons are dark pink canvas, and her small suitcase is hot pink—the kind that makes finding your bag at the airport a lot easier than the usual black, blue, or gray.
