16. Corey

“We’ll frame this over here as the closet and then expand the bathroom over there,” Nolan says, pointing out imaginary lines to Palmer, Grey, and me. While I was in Colorado, Nolan had already masterminded this idea, arranging for plumbers and electricians to complete work in the dilapidated space.

“You should add a living room or something,” Grey says.

Nolan buries a hand in his dark hair. “I was considering that, but then I’ll have to either get rid of the tub or make the bedroom smaller.”

“You don’t want people walking straight into your bedroom,” Grey says. “You’ll have no privacy.”

“Or we just install a good lock up there,” Palmer points to the basement door at the top of the stairs. “They already have a living room and all that shit up there.”

Grey dismisses Palmer’s words and gives Nolan a knowing stare. “Adding a small living room will give you a place to hold date nights. You can watch a movie or enjoy a bottle of wine and hang out, and if you forget to lock the door, people won’t be walking in on anything. Besides, you can skip the tub and get a bigger shower.”

“Bathtub sex is a fucking shit show,” Palmer says. “There’s nowhere to put your hands, everything is slippery as fuck, and someone’s always freezing.”

Grey dismisses him. “You also need a handrail for the stairs. They’re a safety hazard. If Hadley has a drink or the power goes out, you don’t want her falling and breaking an arm or leg.”

I turn to take in the unfinished space again. Nolan’s been living here in the basement for nearly a year. The floor is concrete. Exposed wires and pipes paired with the minimal light that comes from a single, bald bulb make the space resemble something out of a horror film rather than a potential apartment.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Palmer asks skeptically. “Hadley’s got a room upstairs, and you have an entire dorm. Do you really need another space for…?”

Nolan’s expression stops Palmer from finishing his sentence. “My sister’s room is two doors down from Hadley’s, and there’s no way in hell I’m stepping foot back into the dorms unless it involves pulling one over on the fucking soccer team.”

I run a hand down my face. “We can probably get the water barrier installed today,” I say.

Grey nods. “Then we start on the subfloors and framing.”

“We have to take Saturday night off. It’s Pops’s birthday,” Palmer concedes. “And we’re celebrating.”

“I won’t be able to make it,” I say.

“Where are you going to be?” Palmer asks, looking crestfallen.

“I’ve got a date.”

Nolan makes a catcall.

Even Grey looks my way, surprise arching his brow.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Nolan asks. “Anyone we know?”

“Fallon?” Palmer asks.

I nod.

Nolan raises a brow. “Who?”

“A girl he met a few weeks ago,” Palmer says.

“Where are you taking her?” Nolan asks.

“The art museum.”

“Classing it up,” Nolan prods me. “We’ll have a beer in your honor.”

“Let’s get the seal down,” Grey says, shifting the conversation back to why we’re here.

“I don’t know how you made varsity with that footwork, Hale.” Malice drips from Becca’s words as she stares me down.

Someone snickers. I don’t have to look to see who it was. It doesn’t matter. Everyone enjoys watching her taunt me. I think they’re waiting to see if I’ll eventually snap and react.

I don’t. I refuse to fall into her trap.

Zoe, the senior with dark brown hair and freckles, checks me with her shoulder for the tenth time today.

I spin, ready to lash out and shove her to the ground so she thinks twice about touching me again, but her mocking grin tells me that’s exactly what she wants me to do because the cost would be my place on the team.

I release a short huff and turn away as the end of practice is called.

“Hale, clean up the field,” Becca says before leading the others into the facility.

It’s our second day of practice, yet they seem to hate me twice as much as yesterday.

“Don’t take it personally,” Kelly Michaels, a blonde who always wears a headband, tells me. “Becca will get over it. She’s just…” she bends to grab a disc cone. “She and Zoe are best friends. I think she just feels like an ass. You know?”

I shake my head as I grab another cone. “I don’t think I do…”

“You’re a starter, Hale.” She gives an incredulous scoff. “There’s no way Coach Mackenzie would recruit you otherwise. Which means Zoe won’t be starting.”

As our rival, I’ve studied Camden’s team at great length, dissecting their team and dynamics. Five of their starters graduated, including their forward. I hadn’t considered I’d be taking anyone’s place. Instead, I was naive enough to believe I was merely filling an empty position.

Kelly raises her eyebrows as though daring me to admit I’d been so thoughtless.

I don’t.

“You’re going to have to make an effort to fit in,” Kelly says. “And I don’t mean just here at practice,” she adds before I can object and point out that I’ve been working my ass off, arguably the hardest I’ve ever worked in pre-season.

I grab another cone while debating her advice.

“There’s a party this Saturday.” Kelly’s voice is softer, but then she glances toward the facility, making the invitation feel like a trap or obligation. “The whole team is going.”

I want to say no. Want to make a dozen excuses for why I can’t go, starting with I’m finally going to see my dark-haired stranger and ending with I’m sick and tired of trying, and it’s only Tuesday.

Instead, I freaking nod. “I’ll stop by.”

Kelly shakes her head. “Not just stop by. You need to commit, and that means not just being there for the team when you’re expected. This isn’t going to be easy or comfortable, but you’re who chose to transfer here.” She makes the decision sound so much simpler than it was. “Come on. Let’s pick this stuff up and get changed. There’s a cafe that gives students a ten percent discount. We’ll get something to eat before our next practice, and I’ll catch you up on the details you can’t learn from studying tape. There are things you need to know so you don’t bury yourself into a deeper grave.”

Surprise and relief have me wanting to reach over and hug her, but I’m unsure how secure or genuine this olive branch is.

Once everything is cleared, I follow Kelly the six blocks to reach The Spiced Chai. It’s a small red brick building with cream-colored awnings and wire flower baskets under the windows with cheery flowers overflowing onto the sidewalk, reminding me of home. The charm extends inside where the red brick is exposed, like my new dorm. Several sitting areas are constructed around the space with mismatched chairs and tables, and the far corner is filled with shelves housing books and cute trinkets.

“Why did you transfer to Camden?” Kelly’s directness takes me by surprise, distracting me from enjoying the space. “Do you even want to play for Camden, or are you just here because shit blew up in your face and your ex began dating your old teammate?”

Her words pin my heart to my ribs. For several long seconds, I’m frozen in place, wondering if this is what they think of me—what they all think of me.

I slowly shake my head, trying to chase away the onslaught of opinions poisoning my thoughts. “My transfer was finalized before any of that.” I clear my throat before delving too deep into the specifics of my past relationship and focus on the more important facts. “Camden was my first choice. I’ve wanted to play for Coach Mackenzie forever.”

“Then why’d you choose Westfield?”

I don’t mean to smirk, but the way she asks, like it was my decision alone, brandishes me with sarcastic retorts and leads me to assume that financial aid and scholarships weren’t factors in her decision-making process. “Because Westfield offered me a better scholarship.”

She tries to blink back the surprise that leaks into her expression.

“Look. Soccer’s my life, and if Becca will give me the chance, I’ll give this team everything I have,” I tell her.

Kelly stares at me for another long second. “We hated you last year.” She tilts her head. “And the year before.”

Her sentiment should remind me how damn difficult this year will be. It definitely shouldn’t make me want to grin with pride—but that competitive string in my chest thrums.

She shakes her head. “You would take that as a compliment.”

I laugh. “Shouldn’t it be?”

“Probably. You’re a damn good player. We know that—and clearly, so do you.” Her gaze turns pointed.

“I still like hearing it.”

She snickers. “Where has this ego been all week?”

I run my short nails down my arms, itchy from the sun and sweat drying on me. “It’s not my natural disposition.”

“Make it be. Becca respects confidence.”

I wince. “I don’t think that’s what she’s looking for from me…”

The person in front of us moves aside before Kelly can respond, and the woman at the counter greets us. She’s around our age with long, dark blonde hair and brown eyes ringed in green. “Hi. Welcome to The Spiced Chai. What can I get for you?”

I gesture for Kelly to go first. She orders a grilled BLT with chicken and a sweet tea.

“Just a water,” I say when she looks at me for my order. Eating out isn’t within my budget—it never has been. Whatever is left over after my monthly bills goes into my savings, which feels essential after watching my parents stress about money for so long.

“The water station is beside the soda.” The attendant points behind us as she hands me a cup.

While I fill my cup, Kelly sits at a table with flowers and vines painted across the top in jewel tones and sips her sweet tea. Nothing about sitting across from her feels natural or comfortable, and I can tell she feels the same as she shifts in her seat.

“You mentioned there are some things I need to know about the team…” I say to get the conversation flowing again.

Kelly’s light blue eyes flash to mine, and she swallows, looking like she’s second-guessing being here. She rolls her lips together and leans back. “Becca is a true competitor. She wants to win, and that’s why she’s our captain. The team respects her, and because Zoe’s her best friend, they extend her the same courtesy.”

“What about Stacy Hammond?” Stacy is a sweeper who’s usually found glued to Zoe’s side.

“As my grandma would say, they’re thick as thieves.” Kelly takes another drink.

I shake my head. “But if this is a matter of principle, how am I supposed to convince Becca I’m not the enemy?”

“You need to show her you want to be here and that you’re an asset.”

“Not to sound like an arrogant ass, but doesn’t my record speak for itself?”

“That was with Westfield.”

Defeat hollows my chest. “And the rest of the team?”

“They won’t accept you until Becca and Zoe do. I’m sure you can imagine why…”

“Yet, you invited me here and are sharing insight with me…”

Kelly grins. “I’ve known Becca for eight years and am the singular reason she passed English.”

“Does she happen to be struggling in any graphic design classes? Because I could flex there so much easier.”

Kelly laughs and shakes her head but doesn’t have the chance to reply because her sandwich is brought to our table. The scent of her french fries makes my mouth water. I dig a protein bar out of my bag.

“How’d your teammates at Westfield take the news about you transferring?”

I glance at her, trying to read her expression. “It sounds like you know how they took it.”

“They’re all mad?”

“A few understood. Who doesn’t want to play for Coach Mackenzie?”

She nods.

“But for the most part, yeah, they were all pretty upset.”

“You’re going to have to play against them.”

I try to hold my composure so she doesn’t see the cracks that spread and widen every time I think of facing off against my old team. I know it will be brutal. Not only will we be evenly matched, but Westfield knows every one of my weaknesses. I have no doubt they’ll be exploiting them, and some, like Chrissy, will likely want retribution.

“Our first game,” I confirm.

“Are you nervous?”

Terrified. But I don’t let her know that and say, “They’re a good team. It will be a tough match.” The diplomacy in my voice has her waiting for me to say more, but I take a large bite of my protein bar instead.