There's a silence that follows that speaks volumes, but most of my concern is with the way Ruthie's face has gone white.
"Listen, I have to go," I mutter to Jo, moving to meet her. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Yeah," she says, her tone clipped. "Sure."
With that, I end the call—ignoring the fact that I now have an argument-with-Jo-sized concern added to my plate—and jog to meet Ruthie. "You ready?" I ask, putting on my biggest smile and running my hand over her braid.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asks, her voice weak.
I bend down to meet her, tossing my matching braid behind me. "Hey," I say sternly. "The whole point of this is to play with someone who cares about you. And I, Ruthie Montgomery, care a lot about you."
The corners of her lips curl up slowly as color returns to her cheeks.
"We're gonna crush this," I continue. "And then we'll call your dad and tell him, and he'll be so proud of you. He already is."
She takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah, you're right."
I stand back up, stretching side-to-side. "Now, that being said… if you want to dip out and go get cinnamon rolls instead, we can totally—"
"No," she blurts. "I wanna play."
I tip my chin down and wink, nodding toward the field. "You ready then?"
She glances behind her—all the players lining up with their moms or dads on either side of the midfield line. There's a gap where we should be, right across from Elle and Kenzie. And when Ruthie spots it, she turns back toward me, confidence coating her expression.
"Let's do this."
"Tess! Tess!"
I peer up to find Ruthie standing by the crease, Kenzie coming up behind her. I haven't quite nailed the whole not looking at my feet thing, but other than that—and the fact that we're tied—the game is going much better than expected.
It helps that I'm way less worried about getting my sneakers dirty than some of the moms. My hair doesn't get in front of my eyes or caught in my mouth every time I take off either. But I also think a lot of it has to do with the way Ruthie and I are just having fun together.
Now, next goal wins, and we didn't come this far not to take home the title. With the ball at my feet, and defenders coming at me, I scan the field. Aiming for Ruthie by the corner, I turn my foot and smack the ball with the inside of my sneaker. It flies toward her, but not close enough. She stretches for it, but it still sails out of bounds.
The ref—the girls' coach—blows his whistle, and we all fall back so that Kenzie can take the throw-in for the other team. Backing up, I almost trip over Elle, who I somehow didn't see behind me.
"Sorry," I say, still out of breath.
She smiles almost authentically and steps to the side.
"It's nice to see that Ruthie still had someone to play with today," she whispers as the coach jogs after the ball. "I know the Gators are away this weekend."
Her words hit me, and surprisingly, I can't decide if they're sincere or underhanded. "I'm just the lucky one she picked," I say back. "The girl has a whole village."
She presses her lips into a grin—one that, if I didn't know better, is tinged with jealousy. "Well, she really likes you, I can tell."
I find Ruthie laughing with another teammate as she waits for Kenzie to get set on the sideline. I take in Elle's words—genuine or not—and allow them to soothe a part of me still filled with worry over my situation with Jo.At least someone does."I hope so," I mutter more to myself. "Because I really like her too."
She doesn't say anything back right away, and for a second, I think maybe that's it. Maybe she chose kindness today.
"And her dad?" she asks, without looking at me.
I stop short.There it is.
"What about him?" I throw back, attempting to keep my tone neutral.
The whistle blows, and Kenzie raises the ball over her head.
