Back in high school, when Serena ended things the first time to be with Tucker, I told her I’d wait.
“You know where to find me.”
I didn’t fight for her. Didn’t ask her to fight for me. Never even told her where to go or how to get there. Instead, I told herexactly what to expect from me: a willing doormat without the self-respect to get up and walk away.
And now I’m doing it again. Because that’s who I am.
Trevor sees it. Otto already knows it.
I’m dependable.
The guy they “know what they’ve got” in.
I turn the water from hot to freezing cold and stand under the nearly icy water, letting it steal my breath.
Why am I still chasing this?
Why am I auditioning for the main character when even I think I’m supporting cast?
The sooner I accept that, the better.
Hours later, I climb into the stiff twin bed in the dorm-style housing they’ve stuck us in. I plug in my phone, and the second it buzzes with Kayla’s name, I answer.
“Hey, hot stuff,” she says, her face lighting up the screen. She’s wearing a soft pink headband, something green on her face, and her hair is wrapped in a towel like a cinnamon roll. Behind her, I can hear music and laughter, and … is that karaoke?
“Hey,” I say, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. “You doing okay? You look like you were mugged by a spa.”
She gasps. “Rude! This is high-level self-care, I’ll have you know. Clementine dragged Scottie and me to a ladies’ fellowship spa night. Delia brought margaritas in a blender shaped like a flamingo.”
I chuckle, but it’s too tired. “You never know what chaos you’ll find at a ladies’ fellowship night.”
“Hey, are you okay?” She cocks her head to the side, and her brow wrinkles. A crack forms in the mask on her forehead. “You look tired.”
“I am. Long day.”
“But it went well, right?”
I hesitate just a beat too long.
She walks out the door and away from the party. I can’t make out the background except for trees and a lamppost. “Tell me everything.”
I shift the phone to my other hand and lean back against the wall. “It was fine. Just a tough first day. They ran us through a bunch of drills. My legs were toast from all those late nights cuddling my wife, but I found my rhythm by the end.”
“Of course you did,” she says, too confident. “You’re you.”
I close my eyes for a second, hating how little her words help. “There’s another goalie they’re trying out. Ryan Hall. He’s 22 and just a baby. He was sloppy, but his energy had Trevor and Otto over the moon.”
“What? Why?”
“They said he’s raw, but they like his reflexes and instincts. High ceiling, they said. Could be ready in a year. And I get it. Hall’s young. He’s got time to develop. I’m already … what I am.” My voice trails off.
She nods thoughtfully. “What’d they say about you?”
“I’m ‘dependable.’ ‘We know what we’ve got with O’Shannan.’”
She lights up. “See? That’s amazing. They trust you. You’re solid.”
My stomach twists. I don’t know what I wanted her to say, but it wasn’t that.
