Page 165 of Colliding with Ten

I stared down at my coffee. “It won’t be a problem.” I lowered my voice. “Lennox and I are no longer together.”

Hill looked at me with pity. I think he understood what it took for me to say those words.

“We ended it. So, I’ll sign whatever you need me to.”

“Are you⁠—”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Hill reached across the table and covered my hand with his for a few beats. “I’m sorry.”

He withdrew his hands, picked up his cup, and looked away, giving me space to gather myself. I took a deep breath. This was my choice. I came back to New York for this. It was the right decision, but heartbreak was a cruel side effect. I wished my path hadn’t led me away from him.

“Hill, I need to ask you something.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going back to school in the fall. I applied to Columbia. I’m going for Pre-med.”

Hill set his cup down. “I thought you would say something like that.”

“I was hoping you’d write me a recommendation for my applications.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll write it tonight.”

“You don’t have to rush.”

He nodded and leaned back in his chair.

“And I’ll accept the fellowship for next season if you guys can work with my class schedule.”

He nodded. “I think we could do that.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I expect big things from you, Ayla. I mean that. You have instincts I can’t teach and a work ethic I rarely see. Whatever program gets you is going to realize that they got lucky.”

I nodded, but I waited to speak because if I did, it wouldn’t sound professional. “Thank you for letting me in when you didn’t have to.”

Hill waved it off. “You earned your way in once you got the opportunity.”

Maybe I had. But he was the one who looked past a résumé with an unfinished degree. It was easy to say AJ did it, but while he may have opened a door, Hill saw my potential before there was evidence to support it.

Through everything, I never doubted he fought for me behind the scenes, even after his hand was forced. He made sure the door stayed open so I could find my way back. We finished our coffees and walked out together.

On the sidewalk, he shook my hand. “See you soon.” Then he turned and walked toward the facility.

The next evening, I walked back into Flight Crew practice for the first time in weeks. The mirrors along the studio wall reflected a room full of women stretching and chatting. It was a regular morning, everyone falling into routine. Except today, every head turned when I walked in.

A sudden silence fell, and several people watched my every step. I was certain people had been talking about me. Some teammates were friendly, and a few smiled. One new girl gave a little wave. The rest kept their distance, as if I were contagious.

Following Micah’s advice, I changed my shoes, started stretching, and kept my head up. A body dropped down beside me. It was Theresa, hitting the floor and sliding into a straddle stretch. She’d been with me when I got injured and had supported me throughout the weeks after. I was happy to see her again.

“I missed you,” I said, smiling.

“Of course. My stretching advice is irreplaceable.” She glanced sideways at me. “Savannah changed the third-quarter routine. It’s harder now, and if you’re rusty, she’ll make you run it until your legs fall off. That’s your warning.”

Practice was hard. My body remembered the routines, but my timing was off. I needed to work hard to be ready for the next game.

After practice, Savannah caught my arm near the door. “Good to have you back, Ayla.”

I smiled back and walked out of the studio, feeling better. My legs shook from the workout, but I felt more like myself than I had in weeks. I opened the front door and saw AJ, sitting on the bench near the entrance in sweats and a Hawks hoodie. He was mumbling to himself, rehearsing lines, it seemed.