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I break eye contact with Beck for the first time since he walked over, glancing at Coach Taylor instead. “Are we good, Coach?” I ask, eager to flee.
“We’re good, Scott,” Coach confirms. “Curfew is at ten, got it?”
“Got it,” I reply hastily. “It’s been a long day anyway.”
“That’s what you said last year,” Coach replies, but her smile is amused, not annoyed. Yeah, we snuck out last year, but Lancaster still kicked ass at the camp and she only found out because one girl posted a photo the following week. “Enjoy your dinner.”
I grasp the opportunity to leave. “You, too.”
The line is gone, with only a few stragglers still getting food. I rejoin where I stopped, serving myself some chicken and rice, then grabbing a fork.
I stride past where Beck is still standing, talking to Mackenzie, heading toward the rows of tables and dropping my plate down next to my water bottle. I slide into my seat across from Emma. She raises both eyebrows in a silent question, meaning she saw the interaction with Beck and Mackenzie, but doesn’t ask in front of everyone. The rest of the girls are talking about our scrimmage tomorrow. We’re scheduled to play Montclave College, which is one of the better teams here. But assuming I can stay focused, beating them shouldn’t be much of a problem.
After dinner, a few of the guest coaches make speeches. Beck isn’t one of them, so I don’t pay close attention. I do notice he—and Mackenzie—aren’t outliers in the group the way they normally would be.
Cressida notices the same thing. “They finally recruited some guest coaches who were born in the past few decades, huh?” she whispers to me.
“Looks that way,” I reply.
But I doubt recruiting them was the issue. Young, successful players do not normally jump at the chance to come to the middle of nowhere, Canada to provide pointers to a bunch of college athletes. That’s why we normally get the has-beens who are wanting to relive their glory days. The fact that Mackenzie is here, plus several other pro players only a few years out of university themselves, makes me think word about Beck’s presence leaked ahead of time.
Some are international players, even. William York—Britain’s best hope of a world championship—is seated next to Beck.
Dinner ends with a reminder from one of the camp organizers to behave appropriately and abide by curfew.
“On that note, Samantha Cole invited us to the pool later,” I announce to my teammates.
“Better plan than the campfire last year,” Cressida scoffs as we enter the elevator. There might have been a minor incident with some smuggled liquor. “I’m in.”
“Meet back here in a few?” Emma suggests as we reach the floor we’re staying on.
Everyone agrees, and I follow her into our room, exhaling as the door swings shut and latches.
I know what’s coming.
Emma takes a seat on her bed and stares at me. “Okay, spill.”
“Spill?” I play dumb. Not my finest moment.
“My best friend had sex with Adler freaking Beck, and she just told me. You thought I wouldn’t have questions?” There’s some hurt mixing with incredulity. Out of all my friends, Emma’s the one I’ve always shared the most about guys with. She’s basically a no judgment zone.
I knew she would have questions, which is why I never told her. Not only have I not wanted to discuss Beck, it’s felt like I physically couldn’t. I’ve gotten better about burying the ache, but it hasn’t faded the way I hoped. Every time I’m reminded of him, there’s a twinge, just like when my knee was injured. And it hasn’t healed the way that sprain did.
“It was a fling. Just some sex, then it ended.”
“Two sentences? You hook up with a rich, famous, gorgeous soccer god, and all I get are two sentences? I have a fucking poster of him on my wall, Saylor!”
“I know. If you could take that down, that’d be great.”
I’ve been avoiding her room for the past month for exactly that reason.
Emma’s forehead wrinkles as she stares at me. “I’m confused. You bagged—no, scored, get it?”
I roll my eyes.
“With Adler Beck, and you don’t want to talk about it? And you want me to take my poster down? If I had sex with him, it would be the first item on my resume!”
I snort, then head over to my duffle bag and start changing into my bikini.
