Page 67 of Ruck Me Harder

Kiana is worried about her aging grandfather, who recently had a bad fall. Grace and her wife had a fight. And to my surprise, Cari tells us she’s having difficulty adjusting to the new team dynamic.

“It’s not that I don’t love you guys,” she adds quickly. “I just… I was at school for four years. I knew those girls like I knew myself. And now I don’t have that support network or the structure to my day. I’m just… I’m struggling.”

Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine. “We’ll help you get through this.”

“What can we do to help?” Kiana adds.

Practice times fluctuate throughout the week. It’s not set it stone; each week is different, and it will only get worse when we start adding games to our schedule. It’s not like we can change the externalized structure for her. She has to come up with a system that works for her.

Cari swallows. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once. It’s okay to trial and error.”

She buries her face in her hands. To my horror, she bursts into tears.

“I’m just so overwhelmed. I don’t know if I can do this.”

I’m out of my seat in an instant. Rounding the table, I pull her into my arms, and she buries her face in my neck. She clings to me, shaking like a leaf as she cries.

“I can’t do this.”

And at that moment, Tony walks into the diner. He stops short at the sight of his sister crying.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is thunderous, his features hard and sharp.

Cari sobs.

“It’s okay,” I rub her back soothingly, trying to block out the way he’s glaring daggers at me. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once.”

“I should know by now.”

“No. Don’t think like that.” My hands on her shoulders, I draw her back until our eyes meet. “There’s no timeline that says you have to know everything exactly as it’s supposed to be for the rest of your life. You’re allowed to change and grow, and you’re allowed space to consider everything. Just because it’s hard right now doesn’t mean it always will be. And just because something is easy for one person doesn’t mean it’s not difficult for everyone else.”

A tear trails down her cheek.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” I tell her quietly. “It’s okay to seek help. And it’s okay to work through things on your own.”

“I just want…” Cari sighs. “I don’t know what I want. I want to know what I want.”

Letting out a small laugh, I tug her into a hug. “I feel that. I think we’ve all been there at one point or another.”

“I just don’t like feeling this way.” She rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. “It feels… itchy. Like there’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I tell her seriously. “And whatever you’re struggling with—you have a whole team to support you. There’s a whole squad ready to do battle for you. Even if that battle is within yourself.”

Cari swallows, rubbing at her eyes again. “Sorry for being a big ol’ crybaby.”

“Girl, please.” Grace gets up and joins us, wrapping her arm around Cari’s shoulders. “I started crying last week because I finished my can of protein powder. If anything, I’m the crybaby.”

“I cried when I got my period,” Andi adds. “I freaking hate wearing tampons. I’ve been getting my period for twenty years and I still cry every fucking month.”

Cari gives a teary laugh. “I cry when I get my period too. Though usually it’s out of relief.”

Andi grins at her. “See? We’re twins.”

Gently, I steer her back to her chair. “You’ll be okay,” I tell her. “We’ve got your back. On the field and off.”

I chance a glance at Tony’s face. He still has that hard set to his jaw, but his eyes are softening.