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“Yeah, let’s go.”
31
TAYLOR CROMWELL
The car ride is silent as Elijah drives us to campus in his Jeep. Now that things are starting to get back to normal between us, I can feel the hunger of not having eaten in days start to settle in. This is the first time either of us have gone to campus since the incident and I think, even though it has been a week, we are both still nervous.
Elijah parks us opposite of where I normally like to park, right next to the ice rink. We watch as players walk from the rink out to their cars in the lot beside us. Elijah shrinks down into his seat as I watch the last of them leave the building, including Levi.
“You ready?” I ask after Levi has walked off past us to the dorms.
“Are you?” he asks, a noticeable tremble to his voice.
“Yeah,” I say confidently.
I follow him through the parking lot, down the grassy patch in front of the stadium and through the side doors. I’ve never been in this part of the rink before. We walk down a long dark hallway, reaching a big door where the lockers and club house reside.
He swings the door open, and we run into a short older man with a balding head.
“Coach,” Elijah says. “Can I have a minute of your time?”
The older man chuckles. “Now you’re starting to sound like those damn news reporters. Yes, yes come in.”
“Taylor, this is Coach Michael. Coach Michael, this is Taylor.”
Coach Michael raises an eyebrow, eyeing me up and down.
“Well, how can I help you?” he says, his voice gruff probably from a day of yelling at hockey players.
I shuffle my feet and take a step forward. “Sir, I released the images of Elijah. They were fake and exaggerated.” I bite my lip, looking back down to the floor.
“It is nice to hear that, young lady. Owning one’s mistakes isn’t an easy task.”
I nod my head, trying not to cry. I feel like I’ve not only let Elijah down, but the whole team of the St. Paul Royals. This aging man clearly loves his team, loves Elijah enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“The NCAA has agreed to let you back on as soon as you complete the pee test. But I’m afraid you’ll have to be in second line indefinitely. That’s the best I can do.”
I look over at Elijah, and he grinds his teeth, his jaw clenching as he does. I’m not sure how big a deal that is, but it seems like he’s not too happy.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that right away.” Elijah shakes his hand before placing it on my lower back as he guides me out. Despite being brave enough to admit the truth, I feel an overwhelming sense of shame fill every pore in my body.
“Let me guess,” Elijah says, hopping into the car. “You’re hungry.”
I give him a brief smile and look down at my lap. I’m fucking starving, but that doesn’t matter right now.
“It’s okay, Taylor, really. I’ll make my way back to first line before the season ends, I’m sure.” His voice is unfairly soft and assuring.
“Why were you so mad at me when I first moved here, but not for this? Not for fucking up your whole life?” I ask.
He frowns and runs a hand through his thick, brown hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it. I’m tired of not knowing. I’m tired of your fire and ice.”
“I’m sorry I don’t know how to act around you, okay? Not when there’s a chance you could leave at any second, like you did after high school.”
“I had to, Elijah,” I say, lowering my voice. “My mom—she—was suicidal. I couldn’t just let her move across the country alone. I couldn’t risk that, and I couldn’t risk asking you to come,” I say, looking up at him. “Because I was afraid you’d say yes.”
“Don’t fucking tell me that, Taylor, because you know damn well I would have said yes.”
