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Dom had made a slideshow of some of our sillier moments and goofy videos and it all was almost too much for me. I had so much riding on my shoulders this year. The team had been used to winning, and then I’d come and had sunk the ship for a few years, but I guess I was making up for it now. We needed to do well. I needed them to do well, or else I didn’t know how much longer I could coach them in good conscience.
The cheer parents were amazing, and I gorged myself on spaghetti and was a good sport when I got a little roasted by some of the kids. It was all in good fun. Cam even came and made a little speech about the spirit of the Tigers and I definitely cried about that. She didn’t get to come with us to Orlando, but I wished she could have.
“What happened to you last night?” Dom asked, his tone one of innocent concern, but I knew the truth.
“Nothing,” I said, slapping another piece of cake on my plate for dessert. Carbs. I needed carbs.
“You did something, and I'm going to find out what it is tomorrow. You’re stuck with me on a bus and then a plane.” Ugh, I didn’t want to think about that. Too stressful. Herding all these teens onto a plane was going to make me lose it, even though I had help. I had my anxiety meds on standby.
“I’m not going to ask you right now, so you can have until tomorrow to come up with your story.” He grinned at me and went to sit back at the table.
Great. I hoped he wouldn’t judge me too harshly for my night with Echo. Honestly, I didn’t care if he did. It was awesome, and I wasn’t sorry about it.
Echo texted me later that night.
How was your party?
I bit my lip to keep from smiling, even though no one could see me but the cats.
Good. I ate my weight in spaghetti and meatballs, as one does. You?
It was nice. My kids are pumped. I hope you’re ready,she said.
I am ready. Ready to kick your asses.
BRING IT, she said, and I laughed.
We messaged back and forth about silly things, our favorite gay movies, whether or not ravioli is a sandwich, our best birthday presents ever. The conversation meandered around and found myself telling her things that I would only tell my parents or my very closest friends. Echo was easy to talk to, when I wasn’t intent on hating or being annoyed by her. The talk went well into the night and I realized that I needed to get some sleep. I also needed to pack.
I guess I’ll see you in Orlando,I said. That was strange to think about. In less than five days, it would all be over and I’d have to see what was going to happen with Echo going forward. So much of what happened in the next days would determine which path we’d take. I hated not knowing what the future held. Hated it.
Have a safe flight, Kiri.
Even though I’d tried to sleep, I hadn’t, and I was tired as I stood on the bus and called out everyone’s names to make sure they were present, and made sure all the chaperones were accounted for as well. It was a full house, and I got things a little fired up as we headed out, and the parents not coming with us waved and honked and cheered in the parking lot. Even Mack and her mom were with us for support; Mack’s cast signed by the whole team in red and blue.
It wasn’t until we were underway that Dom came and sat next to me in the front seat. I was going to let the parents manage to strike fear into the hearts of the teenagers for now. If things got rowdy, I could always crack the whip.
“What did you do the other night.” It wasn’t a question, more of an accusation.
“Listen, Dominic,” I said, using his full name that he hated, “you’re not my dad, and I’m not accountable to you. I can do what I want. I’m an adult, you know.”
Our eyes met and he sighed and looked at the ceiling of the bus.
“You’re right, you’re right. I shouldn’t meddle. Heath says it’s one of my biggest flaws.” That was true.
I put my arms around him. “Sometimes it’s good when you meddle. And I may have made a bad decision, but it was kind of inevitable.” Echo sure felt inevitable when we were together.
“Okay, I just have one question,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “was it good?”
“It wassogood,” I said, shivering with the memories.
“You should see the look on your face right now,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I felt pretty safe having this conversation under cover of the bus noise. The teens were wild and the bus was none too quiet as it rumbled over the potholes on the Maine roads.
“You look like you’ve been fucked just right.” He only mouthed the word at me.
I touched my face. “Is it that obvious?”
