Page 84 of Dream On, Liar

She'd noticed everything.

The hesitation. The flinch. The fact that I'd tried not to show either.

And somehow, that bothered me more than the pain. “Do you think it’s a tear?”

She sighed. “No, but it’s definitely a sprain. I’ll have to flag this up to Dr. Blackwood, and the coaches.”

Something in me tightened. Not anger. But something sharper. Defensive in a way I didn’t like.

“You’re not recommending that I be benched.” I spoke through clinched teeth.

“You can barely move your arm without pain.”

“I can move it enough.”

“That isn’t the point.”

I pulled away from her hands before I could think better of it.

The absence of her touch was worse than the pressure.

“I’m not weak.”

She flinched, like she hadn’t expected the words. “I never said that you were.”

“You were thinking it.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She replied evenly. “I was thinking that if we gave you a week off, with the one week gap between the two games, you can have an easier recovery.”

“No. We already have a five day break coming up. I can take it easy.”

She didn’t reply, but instead she held my gaze, like she was trying to read into the words I’d spoken earlier.

And in that silence, something shifted in her expression. Under the frustration that had climbed with my words, there was something else, like she was re-calibrating what she thought she knew about me.

“Why does being benched bother you this much?” she asked.

I didn’t answer.

Because the answer wasn’t simple. Because it wasn’t just about this match.

Maeve didn’t push, just looked at me intently, hands still, watching me like she had all the time in the world.

I looked away first.

“Because I can play.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

A breath left me slowly.

God, I was so tired of this.

Not of her.

Well, maybe a little. But only when she forced me to sit with this feeling.

Of everything.