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“Why? I’m sure he’s flattered,” Cressida says in a reassuring tone. “I mean, no offense, but he might not even remember you. He probably does tons of those camps.”
I pour the eggs into the hot skillet and start chopping fresh veggies, not trusting myself to say anything.
Eventually, the euphoria of our win earlier trumps gossip about me, and the dinner conversation is mostly centered around the scrimmage today. After we eat and clean up, Cressida announces she’s invited the rest of the team over to celebrate, along with “a few other friends.” From experience, I know that likely means our tiny house will soon be packed with people.
I’ve just finished changing into a cute dress when I hear a fresh chatter of voices echo downstairs. I swipe on a second layer of mascara and head out into the hallway, making certain to close my door behind me.
When I arrive downstairs a bunch of the juniors are hovering in the entryway. Natalie leaps on me when I hit the final step, giving me a big hug. “All hail the captain!”
We head into the kitchen, where the rest of my housemates are.
“I come bearing gifts!” Natalie announces, waving a shiny magazine cover around. “Guess who the ‘Sexiest Man in Sports’ is for the third year straight?”
I have a bad feeling even before I catch a glimpse of the cover.
It’s a glossy photo of Beck, standing in the center of Kluvberg’s field. Almost the exact spot where we laid together, and the memory is a painful twinge that feels strange to experience here.
“Shut the fuck up,” Emma commands, grabbing the shiny pages and flipping through them.
I walk over to where Cressida is whipping up her customary baked goods.
“What are you making?” I ask, trying to ignore the shrieks coming from the opposite side of the kitchen. There must be more photos inside the magazine. Maybe even some shirtless ones.
“Cupcakes,” Cressida replies. “And I’ll be hiding them.”
I roll my eyes. “Can I help?”
Both her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Sure.” She hands me a bowl. “Stir this.”
My hands whip frosting without any input from my brain, my thoughts spinning as quickly as the sugar and butter.
Cressida brings a tray of cooled cupcakes over to me, and we ice them with the freshly whipped frosting. We’re halfway through when a phone rings. Emma leans over to one I realize is mine.
“Hallie is calling you,” she tells me.
I sigh, then answer. “Hey.”
“Hey! How was your scrimmage?”
“It was good.” I walk over to the cabinet where we keep the liquor, tucking the phone between my ear and my shoulder. “I scored two goals.”
“Congrats, sis.”
“Thanks.” I inhale as I measure out some gin. “How are you?”
“We’re good. Matt just got a promotion, and Matthew has finally decided to start sleeping through the night.”
“That’s great.” I take a sip of straight alcohol, wincing at the burn. “How’s Dad?”
A pause, during which I roll my eyes. She could at least attempt to act like that’s a normal question for me to ask.
“He’s doing well.”
“Great.”
“Your bridesmaid dress arrived. It’s beautiful.”
I take another sip, wishing I could rewind and not pick it out in Beck’s kitchen. It’s bad enough he infected my favorite bikini and all the other clothes I wore in Kluvberg.
