Page 158 of With the Assist

My thoughts are interrupted by a voice I don’t immediately recognize. A rookie from the third line perches on the edge of the bench next to mine, curling her legs under her like she’s not sure she’s allowed to be here.

She’s only nineteen, having skipped college to be here, still so green and hungry for the kind of success that I’m now finding myself. There’s healthy envy and desire in her eyes as she watches me.

“Is it true?” she asks, voice cutting through the gossip. “Is one of the National Team coaches here to watch you tonight?”

I pause, pulling my socks up into place at my knee. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Yeah,” I say. “It’s true.”

The room gets a little quieter. Avery frowns, eyebrows drawn together. “Wow. That’s… big.”

I didn’t tell her. Actually, I didn’t tell anyone.

“Yes, it’s big,” Becca adds, voice low and conspiratorial. “Shouldn’t you be like excited? Jumping up and down, screaming, texting everyone, or posting it on Instagram.”

I shrug, shoulders heavy, trying to hide the fact that nothing seems to light me up lately.

“It is a big deal.” My words sound hollow, even to me.

Haley cocks her head, giving me a sideways look like she’s trying to figure me out. “You okay?”

I force a small laugh. “I am. Really. Just focused, you know?”

It’s what everyone wants from me, and it’s what I’ve always delivered. How can I admit that the part of me that should care, that should feel pride, is strangely absent?

Avery nudges me with her elbow, playful but sharp.

I shoot her a look while I finish the braid I wear for all my games.

Becca leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “Well, that’s good. You’ve earned it. You’ve worked your ass off. You’re going to kill it out there.”

The rookie fidgets again, glancing at me and trying to gauge whether to ask me whatever is on her mind. “Any tips for someone who wants to be where you are?” She asks, softly.

My head jerks in her direction. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, foot tapping a mile a minute.

I toy with the question for a second before I answer. “Be prepared to give everything you have. And then be prepared to give even more.”

My throat tightens, words cracking, but I force them out anyway. I should be a better captain and give her advice that isn’t an extension of my own pain, but I don’t have it in me. Instead, I ignore the stress on her face and the concerned looks from my friends, turning back toward my locker.

I don’t need anything out of it, but fidgeting with my bag buys me the time I need to get myself in check. When I finally turn back, only Avery is left watching me.

“You’re terrible at this. Pretending like you’re not thinking about him is worse than admitting it.”

I manage a smile this time, tighter than it should be. “I’m fine. Just ready to play.”

The locker room begins to buzz with movement as some of the team files back in after visiting the athletic trainer for treatment. The goalie coach is instructing in the corner, and the assistant coach has some of the rookies pulled aside. Noise fills the space and pushes the thoughts away for a moment.

I stand and walk toward the corner we usually sit in, trailing behind Avery. My hands tighten around my water. Tonight could change everything for me professionally.

The thought nags, uninvited: this should matter more. I should care more. All the things I’ve sacrificed for soccer. Him. All for a shot at what I’m so close to accomplishing.

Avery grabs my arm, her grip firm enough to make me stop in my tracks. “Hey,” she says, voice low, pulling me aside away from everyone. “We need to talk. Now.”

“What’s up?” I murmur, though my voice sounds more tired than usual.

“You. You’re miserable, and it’s so damn frustrating because you don’t have to be, Wesley.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” She repeats, eyebrows raised. “I’m your best friend. You think I can’t tell that this is eating you alive?”