Booker: We’re playing UConn that weekend. Sorry, Mom.
Mom: That’s too bad. You can’t miss this one game?
Booker: Sorry, Mom. It doesn’t really work like that. I’d be letting my team down, and I’m the alt-captain, so I have to be there. Plus, I’m first line.
Mom: Could you leave right after the game and just get there a bit late?
Booker: We have team dinner after the game.
Ok, that’s not always true. But it has happened. I feel bad for lying, so when class is over, I’ll text Friedline and set something up. Our team could definitely use some bonding right now.
Mom: Well, I’m sure they’ll have another retreat soon. Love you, honey.
Booker: Love you.
My parents come to one obligatory game each year, but that probably has more to do with the opportunity to hob-knob with Bainbridge donors than it does with supporting me. My mom and sisters used to come to all my games, but I have a feeling my dad put a stop to that. Having played pro ball, you’d think my dad would be more of a sports enthusiast. But no. He hates going to games and claims it’s because of all the un-Godly influences in sports. But I’ve always thought it was because he’s no longer the one the fans are lining up to see.
I close the chat window and tune back in to the lecture, just in time to see Dr. Bergman wave her phone at Ian as though she’s taking a call and she leaves the lecture hall. Ian just nods and picks up right where she left off.
I take a few notes because even though this stuff gives me hives, it really is interesting. Granted, I won’t need the notes because I’m dropping the class, but I can’t help myself. What Ian’s saying makes a lot of sense, so I start typing. Santos didn’t make it to class today, so maybe I’ll give the notes to him. That’ll count as a good deed.
Class ends and as everyone files out, I stay in my seat and pull out my phone to text Friedline.
Booker: Hey, thinking we could use some team bonding.
Friedline: Ya think? I thought Koz was going to deck Shuler last night. I had a talk with Shuler after practice, but he won’t budge. He’s pissed that Koz is dating his ex and he’s not letting it go.
Booker: But it’s not just between them anymore. The whole team is taking sides. Maybe a team dinner would help?
Friedline: I don’t think all the dinners in the world are gonna pull this team together, but it’s worth a shot. Maybe Coach will talk his wife in to feeding us?
Booker: Sounds good. If not, I bet Whit would.
Friedline: Cool. I’ll get with Coach and let you know.
Booker: It’s a plan.
I'm so engrossed in our convo about team drama and the whole mess that it takes me a minute to notice that Ian has taken the seat right next to mine.
“Hey, Booker. About last night. Look, if I made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It’s not my place to—”
I stop him right there. “Yeah, no, that’s on me. I’m in a weird place, and I’m sorry. You were being a friend, and I appreciate it. Sorry I’m always coming to you when my life’s in shambles.”
Before Ian can respond, Dr. Bergman walks back into the lecture hall, her face pale and her hands shaking.
Ian
Just as class ends,I approach Booker, wanting him to know we're cool and that he can always talk to me.
But then Hannah walks in.
She left abruptlyin the middle of her class—just showed me her phone and walked out. I thought nothing of it at the time. We trust each other and so I figured she had a call to take. Maybe a doctor appointment or bank or something? But now she’s standing here, looking wrecked, and I’m guessing it wasn’t a good phone call.
“Everything ok?”I ask, though clearly, it’s not.
She shakesher head as Booker stands. “Hey, I’ll get out of here. I, uh, hope everything’s ok.” And then he’s gone. Later, I’ll re-examine every word and gesture in a futile attempt to figure him out, but right now, I direct all my attention to Hannah.
She meltsinto the seat that Booker vacated.
