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I glance over at my mom, who’s twisting her fingers together anxiously.
“It’s nice to see you, Will,” she tells me.
I swallow the lump that rises in my throat. Clear it.
The last time my mom and I were at a hospital before tonight was because of that day we don’t discuss. The day I found her on her bed with an empty bottle of pills on the carpeted floor. The day our relationship morphed into…this.
I don’t think I’m the only one who realizes that.
“It’s good to see you too, Mom,” I say, then pull out of the parking lot.
THIRTY-ONE
SOPHIA
FC KLUVBERG STATEMENT FROM HEAD COACH LEON WAGNER
Will Aster has requested and been granted an indefinite leave of absence for personal reasons. The club has no further comment at this time.
Ireread the press release for the fifth time, almost colliding with another student as I exit the building and pass the fountain. I mutter an apology, my eyes immediately returning to the phone screen.
Will hasn’t replied to a single one of my messages. He never came over last night, like he was supposed to. This morning, I found out he hadn’t played yesterday. And now, Kluvberg has released a statement that tells me absolutely nothing, except that something is wrong.
There’s no one I can ask for more details—at least not without arousing suspicion about why I care. Based on Wagner’s statement, I’m not even clear if he knows what’s going on.
I take a seat on one of the stone benches surrounding the fountain and then tap his name, twirling some of my hair around one finger anxiously as I listen to it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
I’ve decided he’s not going to answer when I hear a click, then a croaked, “Hey.”
“Will?”
There’s a muffled thud on his end, followed by a low, “Fuck.” He clears his throat. “Did you mean to call someone else?”
“Why haven’t you answered any of my texts?” I demand. There’s an edge of hysteria to my voice, twisting it into a sound that’s almost unrecognizable. My feelings seem just as alien.
I know I like Will. I care about him. I’m sleeping with him. But this…this frantic panic feels like something more than lust or familiarity.
A rustle in the background this time.
“I haven’t seen them. My phone died on the way here.”
Way where?
“Oh. Are you…okay?”
Will exhales, and I know from the sound that the answer is no. Knew it from the second I heard he hadn’t stepped on the pitch, actually. He was so excited about starting. No way he would have missed that for any trivial reason.
“My mom called right before the game yesterday. My brother was in an accident. I flew to Boston as quickly as I could.”
“Is your brother all right? Will he be all right? How bad was the accident?” The questions fly out rapid-fire, all the worry that’s had no outlet tumbling out in a rush.
“He hasn’t woken up yet, as far as I know. I didn’t get to see him before the doctor told us to go home and sleep.”
Go home and sleep…
