“We approve. Send it,” Casey says.
I can’t and have to wait until we get reception. “Say, who do you think our new coach will be?” I ask.
They’re being real hush, hush about it. No announcement until the first-day meeting.
“I can’t measure a guess,” Dirk says. “Whoever it is has big shoes to fill.”
We all look to Stacey. “Stop it, fellas. I’m wrecked over it, but you don’t gotta tiptoe around me. It’s better to deal with it.”
“Leslie doesn’t deal with shit,” Dirk says.
“Fuck you, Dirk.” That’s me.
Ding! Ding!All our cell phones pop off around the RV as we drive back into reception range. I don’t think I can look, but then I do and it’s not so bad. Rhett sent a heart emoji in return to my knee-jerk admission. Without a moment of hesitation, I press send on the text we came up with. Everyone except Casey is hastily reading and responding to texts before we’re out of range again.
My heart’s in my throat when I see the little dots. This is the first time we’ve talked since the very public breakup, and I immediately regret it. The first days, making it through ten minutes without the itch to call or text him was hard. Dad made me a cake when I made it through my first day without thinking about him.
It got easier until even his random texts didn’t faze me so much. By not responding, I could pretend that he was just another voice in my head. A memory.
Dammit. I wrote back to him. I just made him real.
When my phone pings, I take a breath and read, not ready for whatever he’ll say. I play in my head what I’m going to write back.
“Did you sleep with Mercy Meyer?”
What? I stare and stare and stare. That was supposed to be my line. Then … oh God. My brain puts the pieces together. Blood pounds in my ears.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I say looking for an exit. It’s just like always when it’s Rhett related. Given the choice between fight, flight, or freeze, I’m flight all the way.
Stacey puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re, okay. You’re okay, bud. Breathe.”
“No. Not okay. I think our new coach is Mercy.”
Casey slams on the brakes, which lurches the RV, but when he realizes what he’s done he pulls off them too soon and we swerve before he recalibrates.
“Jesus Christ, Casey,” Dash says.
“What does it matter? We’re all gonna die anyway. Did you hear what Leslie said?”
“We’re not gonna die and we haven’t confirmed anything,” Stacey says.
The RV is silent for the next few kilometers as we contemplate our potential new lives under the tutelage of the guy I fucked and then left after I told him I was a creepy fanboy. Yeah, we’re all going to be doing drills until our skates wear out the ice.
“I can confirm it.” I fiddle with my phone.
Stacey puts a hand over mine. “Don’t. We’ll find out for sure when we get there.” That’s Stacey for he believes it too.
Fuck. This is the worst.
My phone rings again.
“Did you sleep with him, Jack?”
I don’t know why he suddenly cares, but cold tingles prickle the hair on my arms. Would this be bad for Mercy if it gets out? I don’t know that either and feel an odd jolt of protection for him.
“No,”I lie. The guilt of that lie—even for a good cause—sinks into me.“I was trying to get you to leave me alone. You need to stop, Rhett.”
Please don’t stop. Please, God, don’t stop. I’m still not ready to let go even after all this time.
