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She looked out of the windows of the bus, her energy dulling. She was a smart girl. She knew I was right, though whether or not she wanted to admit it was another question.
“Okay,” she whispered, her spirit broken. “Okay.”
We stood in silence for a moment, and I thought distantly that it was a good thing the bus driver had stepped off to stretch her legs. I wasn’t sure what she’d make of this conversation.
Catya moved further down the aisle, pacing closer to me. We were now only a few feet apart — and the emotional distance between us was beginning to close too.
“What’s your plan?” she asked simply. I heard, in her voice, the reluctant echo of acceptance, at least for the time being.
“Plan? I’m supposed to have one of those?” I joked. Her face wasn’t budging for humor at the moment, though, so I replied more earnestly, “I’m going to quit.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Catya shook her head, and her tone was fierce, almost angry, when she replied, “No, I’m not letting you do that. Nice try, but you need to think up something less horrible.”
I stepped forward, and put my hand to her chin, tilting her eyes until they met mine. “It’s not your choice, love. This is what I have to do. And then, maybe, if you’ll still have me… we could be together.”
What I didn’t say was, even if that means from different countries. I didn’t want to bring up my immigration situation, knowing full well it would just upset Catya even more, maybe cause her to quit the team right on the spot. No, this challenge needed to be mine and mine alone.
“You can’t go,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, tears that had probably been threatening to spill for the entire bus ride.
“I can, and I will. Frankly, it’s either that or they fire me. I can wait for them to hear the truth from somebody else, from another player, or I can march in there tomorrow and quit. There are no other realistic options,” I finished.
I couldn’t let her see how much it would hurt me to quit, how painful it would be to tell my mother. No, I had to stay strong.
A tear escaped from her eye, stumbling along the edges of those thick lashes. I caught it with my index finger.
“Don’t cry,” I murmured. “Don’t cry, it’s going to be all right.”
“No, it’s not,” she gasped out, her crying now morphed into full blubbering. “Nothing’s ever going to be all right again without you here. Simon, I — I love you.”
My breath hitched in my throat. Did she just say what I think she said? In spite of everything else that was going on, my breast lit up, as if from a fire within. I hadn’t wanted to be overbearing, to say it too soon, but now that she’d come right out and — well, fuck it.
“I love you too,” I declared. “Catya, I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, and that love has grown every second since.”
Now that I’d up and said it, all other challenges seemed to drop from my horizon. Loving her, freely and openly, was enough to keep me going through anything.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course,” I laughed. “And it just makes me all the more sure that I need to quit. We’re going to find a way to be together, love, this I swear. No job is worth losing you.”
“Okay,” she managed to reply, her pink lips quivering delicately. I wanted to kiss those lips, to wrap her in my arms and make everything all right, but it was the wrong time for kissing, and I was only human — I couldn’t make everything all right. No one could.
“Okay then. Now listen, I’m not going to be at practice tomorrow—”
“Why?” she interjected.
“Because I’m going to have already spoken to David, the Athletics Director, by then. So…” I trailed off.
She understood. “So you’ll already have quit.”
Or been fired, I thought to myself, but said aloud, “Yes, that’s right.” Then, I added, “But you have to go to practice.”
She rolled her eyes and arched those perfect brows. “Uh, pass.”
I doubled down, insisting, “Seriously. You have to go to practice and make things right with the team. They need you to lead them. I mean, you saw them today, when you were in… when you were the worse for wear. They were so disconnected, so discordant without you. You’re the glue that holds the Stallions together. And I know it’s hard, but you have to go be their captain.”
“Simon, they looked at me like I was a pariah today, like they’d never been more disappointed in their lives. Like they’d just watched their hero fall or something,” she said quietly. “They fucking hate me, and I’m not going to practice.”
