27. Fallon

“Ithought you were supposed to be fast, Hale?” Becca yells, pinning the blame on me for another foiled drill.

My agitation is more potent than the adrenaline in my bloodstream as Stacy and Aiko, the two who were in my set, snicker and flick accusing glances my way, all too happy to dismiss that one of them made a terrible pass and the other lost sight of the ball when they turned the wrong direction.

I deserve a medal for pulling the play off, considering my thoughts are still on Corey and the yellow roses that showed up at my door yesterday with an apology note.

A hand claps my shoulder, turning my attention from the backstabbers to Kelly. “Opponents will be calling you worse than slow. Where’s that tough skin?”

I pull in an exaggerated breath through my nose and get back in line for the drill.

“Come on. We’ve got this. Liza, be our third.” Kelly looks at Liza, a girl with coil-tight red curls and pale skin that she lathers in sunscreen during every water break.

Liza’s gaze skitters to me and back to Kelly with a silent objection, but Kelly flings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her out on the pitch with us. The passing drill involves communication, speed, and flawless footwork to prevent slowing the others who will be following us.

I’ve been trying to remind myself that if I keep showing up and working my ass off, the Camden team will eventually accept me.

Over the past two weeks, this reminder has proven to be fractionally true. At least four girls on the team now greet me, and today, Gabriela, a midfielder with some of the best footwork I’ve seen, even congratulated me after a play.

I hold on to that reminder as I sprint to the middle cone, waiting for the ball and Zoe, who is playing defender for the drill. Dread hollows my stomach, expecting the aggressive puncture of her elbow and knee that stun me nearly as successfully as the gleam in her eye that confirms she wants to hurt me. But the contact has her off balance, a key I use to my advantage as I pin her with my arm and spin just in time to meet the ball.

Kelly calls out her opening, and I have only a second to pass before Zoe recovers.

Kelly hoots with victory as she crosses the halfway line, and Liza grins.

I turn to look at Becca, who gives me a dismissive glance before turning to the next three, who are already running toward us as the drill continues.

Becca’s lack of snotty remarks propels me to finish practice, ignoring the heat that is beginning to intensify.

“Has anyone told you about the beach trip?” Kelly asks, plopping down across from me on the locker room bench. She straightens the purple headband holding her blonde hair out of her face, which is still red and blotchy from practice.

“You’re the only one who talks to me,” I remind her, tossing my emptied juice box into the nearby trashcan as my pulse beats too hard and fast. Between my low blood sugar, practice, and today’s heat index, it feels like my skin is on fire.

Kelly makes a face. She never disparages the other girls on the team. I’m torn between finding this a trustworthy trait or a shifty one since her silence sometimes feels like complicity, as Lexie pointed out.

“What’s with the juice boxes? If you need electrolytes, grab a sports drink.”

“I need sugar.”

She doesn’t question it, and I don’t elaborate. Eventually, I’ll need to tell them about my being diabetic, not because I’ll need their help, but because it will put an end to questions like this.

“We’re going to the beach the second to last week of this month. The entire team’s going. It’s basically an unsanctioned team-building tradition.”

“Doesn’t that give us only one week before the coaches return?”

She nods. “The beach is our last vacation before conditioning hell.”

“Is that the best time to be taking a break?”

She rolls her eyes and fishes clothes out of her locker. “Trust me. We need the break for our sanity. Coach Mackenzie lives up to her greatness, but she’s ruthless.”

“Why are you telling me about the beach?”

She stares at me like I’ve just told her aliens abducted me, and I want to share my experience. “If you don’t show up, the team will think you don’t want to be there. I told you, Fallon, you can’t just show up on the field. You have to make an effort.” She glances around the mostly empty room before lowering her voice. “They don’t trust you.”

This is the beginning of my third week in this one-sided relationship, where I’m the only one who has to concede and prove I’m good enough, and I’m already exhausted.

“Who knows,” Kelly continues. “Maybe you and Becca will leave the beach as besties.”

I barely manage to hold in my scoff.

By her look of disapproval, I can tell she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“It will be fun. The men’s soccer team is coming, too. Plus, I already told Becca you’re my roommate.”

The reminder of the soccer team sparks a memory. “What’s the deal with you and Rafael? You two seemed… close.” I probably sound too optimistic.

Kelly rolls her eyes, but a smile pulls at her lips, and her cheeks turn pink. “There’s no deal. We flirt sometimes, but it’s all in good fun.”

“Do you like him?” I can’t look at her, fearing my hope will be evident and show my betrayal.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I like flirting with him, but that’s probably because Corey is the king of indifference, and my ego needs a little stroking.” She flashes a wider grin. “But when I think about which guy I’d like to stroke—or stroke me—it’s Corey.” She gathers her shower bag, leaving me with an extra pound of guilt.

“Corey wasn’t in class again today?” Lexie asks from where she’s sprawled out across my bed.

I shake my head and try to ignore the sharp blade of disappointment that has been pressed to my throat since Friday.

“Well, I have some good and not-so-good news.” She flips the page in the book that’s bigger than an encyclopedia, covering her lap. “Though we don’t know exactly where Corey was born or the time, he’s a Sagittarius, which means he’s a thousand percent compatible with you. We’re talking soulmate material here, Fal. You’re both fire signs with tons of passion.”

“Is that the good news or the not-so-good news?”

She flips me off before pulling the book closer to where she’s hunched over the pages. “He’s ambitious, social, and highly motivated by personal growth and truth.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“The bad news is that most Sagittarians get bored in relationships.” She glances up at me. “But depending on his moon and sun sign, a lot could change.” She briefly lowers her gaze back to the pages before meeting my eyes again. “He might be rebellious, opinionated, and hard to please.”

I grab another clean T-shirt from the laundry basket and slip a hanger inside. “Does it mention what I’m supposed to do about my friend being in love with him? Kelly was literally telling me she wanted him to strokeher twenty minutes ago.”

Lexie’s brows pucker. “This is your love story, not hers. Besides, he told you he doesn’t like her.” She points at the book. “Aren’t you curious to learn more about him?”

More than I want to admit. Lexie reads his chart aloud. “And might I conclude he’s born on the twenty-ninth. Your lucky number,” she insists. “I still can’t believe he lives here. Like right here,” Lexie says, staring at my floor.

“Actually, he lives up there.” I stop folding a pair of shorts and point at the ceiling. “How did you not recognize him?” My tone verges on being accusing. “You’ve been going to school with him for three years.”

“First off, Camden’s huge! And secondly, when’s the last time you saw my ass on a bleacher watching football?” She raises both brows. “We both know my type is a man who wears a three-piece cashmere suit, not a jersey. That’s all you.” She waves a hand up and down my front.

I groan at the reminder and grab a pair of shorts to fold. “It’s like fate double downed and was like, the first football player you dated ended badly, let’s try again but with a few more hurdles. This will be fun.”

Lexie cackles. “I love snarky Fallon.”

I roll my eyes.

“Fallon, he wants you. You want him. Take away these extra layers of bullshit, and you have your answer.”

“Nothing about this is easy. I’m not sure he will want to be anything more than friends or even stay here with his sister being sick, and Kelly is literally my only friend on the team…” I sigh, feeling wholly defeated. “I guess we’ll see how things go tonight.”

Her attention snaps to me, and her eyes grow comically round. “You’re seeing him tonight?”

“For our class project.”

“Why aren’t you getting ready? Tell me you’re going to change?”

I glance down at my mesh shorts and old soccer camp tee. “I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re trying at all. Shrek wouldn’t be impressed.”

“I did my hair.”

She rolls her eyes and abandons the book to peruse my closet. “Why do you own so much gray?”

“It’s neutral, like me.”

“How opposed are you to wearing a dress on a scale of one to ten?” she asks, ignoring my comment.

“Fifteen.”

She gives me stabby eyes. “You have great legs. We need to show them off.”

“I’m wearing shorts. Short shorts.”

“Short shorts show a little cheek. Yours don’t even show the hint of cheek.”

“Do you know how hard female athletes are working to not be sexualized?”

“I’m not going to make you wear short white shorts to play soccer, but this is a date.”

“No. It’s a study date. We’re pumping the brakes and being friends. Remember?” At least, I think that’s what we agreed on.

Lexie turns and lowers her chin, staring me down. “Don’t you dare talk yourself out of liking him or try to sabotage this by looking like a ragamuffin. You have feelings for him. You already admitted it. Give yourself this allowance.”

“I don’t want him to like me because of how I look,” I tell her. “It took me a month to stop thinking he was only interested in me because I asked him to sleep with me in the first five minutes of hanging out.”

Her blue eyes soften at the appearance of my vulnerability. “I’m not saying he doesn’t like your vagina, too, but he’s definitely interested in more than just sex. You guys were basically pen-pals for a month. Guys don’t do that unless they’re interested.” She extends a short stack of folded clothes to me. “Change into these and remind yourself that you’re worthy.”

I glance down as I accept the denim shorts and black tee.

“Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to protect my heart so it doesn’t get stampeded again?”

She nods, but I know she’s placating me before she gently pushes me toward the restroom. “That was your confidence that Tobias broke, not your heart. Now, go change.”