33 - The Girl That I Love

33

The Girl That I Love

Isaiah

I t's been two days since Aurora's MRI.

Since she's been home. Obviously, I know something happened. Bad news, I assume, but I can't quite figure out what. Aurora…she likes to hide—she always has—but it's not usually just one thing.

As long as I've known her, she carries the weight of things that bother her until she can't. Tends to treat it like a heavy backpack until it's forced her to the ground.

And I'm trying to give her space. Once she confirmed by answering my text with a simple ‘yes,' I left her alone. But it certainly feels a lot like floating on a raft without an anchor. I sigh, removing my glasses and rubbing my eyes as I ball up another piece of paper.

Writing isn't coming easy right now. Not the letter to Elijah, not any new words for my book. Nothing. Worry clouds any coherent thought I have. Raven meows from next to me on the couch, where she's taken a liking to sitting on Aurora's lap. Two days and the both of us are lost souls searching for the girl that fills the space.

Reaching over, I scratch between her ears, and she pushes her head into my hand. "She'll be back soon."

And she will. There is no running away from this anymore. Not for me. Not for her.

I ran away for far too long. And if she wants to run away from this city, fine, but she's not running away from me. Maybe I don't deserve that, but without her, my path in life gets blurry, fractures into a million directions. It took a long time to get back here, on her path, and I'm not giving it up again.

Reaching over to my phone, I scroll past the text messages from Sophia and Kian, asking if I've heard anything, and find Maazina's name. I had figured it was the first person I should have on my side regarding Aurora, aside from her family. We don't talk often aside from the group message between the two of them and myself, but occasionally, she'll send me a strange meme or a stray message about her crush on Kian.

A strange girl, that one, but someone I'm eternally grateful is by Aurora's side.

The phone rings twice before she answers. "Y'ello?"

"Maazina?"

"Hey, Isaiah. Sorry, trying out greetings like old white men these days."

I snort, running a hand down my face. "Understandable. Do you know where I can find the head coach?"

"Teller?" Maazina hums. "She's probably at her office by now. We have practice in two hours, so she should be there. This about Aurora?"

"Yup."

"I can send Coach a text and let her know you're coming by. I'm sure she won't mind but just in case."

"Thank you. That'd be great."

There's a pause. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," I say, shutting off the music and the lights. After closing my empty notebooks, I pocket my keys.

"Do you think she's okay?"

Images of Aurora flash instantly in my mind. The gentle shape of her lips, the slope of her nose, and the star shaped freckle. Hazel eyes that seem to see right through me. I know what they look like when she smiles and when she's sad. She's been gone for two days, and life already seems off-balance.

"I do. I imagine things just got too loud."

Maazina exhales through the phone. "Yeah, you're probably right. And Isaiah? I know we just met and all, but I'm glad you're back in her life. Though she may never admit to our faces, we could tell she needed you. Thanks for, uh, taking care of her the way that you do."

I clear my throat over the emotion that builds in my throat at that. Those girls had her back when I didn't. Made her laugh when I wasn't around. They solidified themselves in her life as family. I'm grateful she had them then. And I'm grateful she has them now. "Thanks Maazina."

"Of course," she says. "Let me know if you need anything. Since I'm sure you know where she is, let me know when you see her, okay? And that I'm giving her a friendly love tap whenever I see her again."

I chuckle. "Got it."

After hanging up, I make sure Raven has enough food and water for the rest of the night and next morning in case I don't return before I head out the door. Aurora likes her routine, her comfort. If I know her like I believe I do, I know exactly where she is. Everyone has asked me—the girls, Sophia, Kian, her mom, though I think she knows, too—but I don't tell them. Aurora wants to be alone, and she's gotten that.

My fear is if she's left alone too long, she'll lose sight of the way out of it.

First, I've got a few stops to make. The drive to the field is short and quick, and I follow the signs to Coach Teller's office.

I knock, and her voice follows shortly after. "Come in." She's leaning back in her chair when I enter, unsurprised to see me. "Isaiah, I presume? Nice to officially meet you." Coach reaches a hand across the desk, and I return the handshake firmly.

"You too, Coach Teller. I've heard a lot about you." I motion to the chair opposite her, and she dips her head. Taking a seat, I rest my elbows on my knees. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Coach Teller purses her lips, eyes focusing on a photo on the wall. One of the team after a championship—I think in 2022—with Aurora and the defense holding up the trophy with everyone else. "She's one of the best players I've ever seen. One of the best I've ever gotten to coach. Aurora has worked so hard for this, for that National Team invite." With a sigh, she turns her gaze back to me. "She has to have a second surgery next Thursday. There was another, smaller tear. Adds four weeks onto her recovery."

My heart breaks for her. When she was a little girl, she'd scribble out her dreams about the National Team. When she was a teenager, we'd talk about it on our bedroom floors, staring up at the neon stars she had on her ceiling or the starkness of mine. To know it may be out of reach again or delayed pains me.

"That makes sense." Leaning back, I meet her coach's eyes. "Is that all?"

Coach Teller's lips twitch. "You know, not sure I've ever had a conversation like this with a player's partner."

I huff a laugh. "Somehow, that is unsurprising."

Her dark skin wrinkles with a smile, but it's there and gone. "You've known her for years, correct?"

"Since we were kids on a playground. She punched a kid because he broke my glasses. She was five."

She laughs. "That sounds about right." Coach tilts her head, gives me a long look. "So, I assume you know her father?" I frown but nod. "I wasn't there, so I can't say for sure, but I told Aurora to wait on the curb while I grabbed something, but when I came back, she was gone. Her father, one of our coaches, as you know, was standing there."

I suck my teeth, my hands tightening around themselves. "Has she talked to you? About a trade?"

"She mentioned it when we were waiting for the results."

"She means it," I say, trying to keep my voice level since none of my anger is directed at her. "She will leave this team. He wasn't her official coach before, but he was always there. Extra drills, extra hours on the field. It was fine. But he's hard on her. I know I haven't been back for long, but it doesn't seem that that's changed. Never congratulated her for the invitation because they had a fight recently. He never once called her after the injury. I won't tell you all the details because they aren't mine to tell, but it's too much for her."

There's anger in Coach Teller's eyes now, too. A tenseness to her shoulders.

"I'm not sure how serious she was when she mentioned it to you, but she asked if I would leave the city. She loves it here. Her family is here; her life is here. She loves those girls, the team. She loves you. And she will leave it all behind if he doesn't fix it."

"I have a meeting scheduled with him."

I nod. "Is he here?"

Coach Teller raises a brow. "He is." Understanding flows between us. She could tell me not to say anything, but I'm not a player. And I wouldn't listen. "No violence on the property."

I snort. "Not my forte."

"You're good for her. I'm glad she has you." Coach Teller stands and reaches out a hand for me to shake again. "Thank you for talking to me."

"Thank you." With a final shake, I head out.

The hallways between the offices are short, and it only takes me a second to find her father's. Steeling my features, I knock. Aurora has no idea that I've talked to him and obviously has no idea that I'm about to again. I'll tell her when I see her, but I'm so fucking sick of no one having the guts to say anything to him. They make snide comments or a line here and there, but they never really go for it. I can't find it in myself to care anymore. Whether he hates me for the rest of our lives or not, I don't care.

My obligation is to Aurora. The girl that I love.

And that means looking out for her. No matter what.

I enter after his voice travels through the door. Upon my entry, he sighs, exhaustion taking over his features. "Isaiah."

"Mr. Matthews."

"Is this going to be a friendly visit?"

"Not particularly." I stay standing. I have no plans to be here longer than needed. "She's going to leave this team."

Shock filters over his features and clouds his eyes. "She's going to quit?"

"I didn't say quit. She's not a quitter." I give him a pointed look. "She's going to request a trade if you don't fix things."

So quickly, his defenses come down. "That doesn't make sense. Why would she do that?"

"With all due respect, you know exactly why," I say, pulling in a deep breath. "She isn't willing to jeopardize the team, their coaching, and their abilities because of what's happening with you. You haven't spoken to her in—what, almost two months? And you think that she's okay with that? You're not just her father. You're her coach."

Remorse flashes in his eyes so quick, if I had blinked, I would've missed it. "She doesn't need me." He clears his throat, but I'm angry. He wants to throw himself a pity party? Fine. He can do it in private and act like he cares about his daughter.

"That's bullshit, and you know it. If she didn't need you, this wouldn't matter. She wouldn't be considering leaving her team that she's helped build. If she didn't need you, she wouldn't do anything and everything to gain your approval."

We stare off for a minute or two or five. I'm not sure. His approval means nothing to me. Not anymore. "I don't know what you said or didn't say to her that made her disappear. I don't really care because I know that it hurt her. You hurt her. Again. She'll be okay; I'll make sure of that, but you? Can you go the rest of your life without speaking to your daughter? Because you're too prideful to apologize?"

Mr. Matthews sucks his teeth and averts his eyes.

"To be clear, I'm only here because of her. Because I love her. And she deserves better from you," I say, working to keep the bite out of my words. "I'll follow her anywhere, to any team. But we both know she shouldn't have to leave. If anyone should leave, it should be you. And if you want a relationship with her going forward, I expect you to take a good look in the mirror while you still can. While there is still a relationship to be fixed."

Once again, he's silent, eyes unreadable, but there's a low hum of tension in the room. He knows he's walking a line, and there is no coming back from this one if he crosses it.

I turn to leave, my hand on the door. "Have a nice day, Mr. Matthews." The door snaps closed behind me, a feeling of finality floating through the air.