May sighs. She reaches out and presses her hand to my left one where I’ve been rubbing it nervously against my thigh. ‘I am completely fine, Colt. He’s just some uppity rodeo dickhead. It’s nothing new. My dad told me about some of the guys he rode with when he was younger. I should’ve known—’

‘It’s not your responsibility to know anything in that situation.’ My voice comes out more upset than I’m prepared for. Gruff? Absolutely not. ‘It’s his responsibility to stop at “no”.’

May nods steadily, shifting her brown-eyed gaze towards the ring. ‘I appreciate that, Colt.’

She gives my hand a soft squeeze, and I see that her appreciation isn’t just words. It’s more than that – it’s someone who’s always thought it was her against the world recognizing that she’s not alone. I know it well, because I recently started to realize the same thing.

The rodeo incident sits fresh in my brain for a couple days after the fact. I give May the same space I usually do, let her do her thing, but the ‘text me when you get there’ messages become more frequent during the rest of the week. Just the way that guy looked at her … ugh.

That Wednesday, the National College Lacrosse Association wraps up seeding all the teams, a longer process than usual owing to extremely close scores for the season, and the bracket comes out as we wait on the field, gathered around Coach Dillon’s laptop with bated breath. With a stunning record this year, we’re hoping for a good spot that will put the Riders straight through to the first round of the playoffs.

‘First round,’ Maddie hums, eyes squeezed shut and fingers crossed. ‘Please. Please. Please—’

‘It’s here!’ Coach announces, and the girls are immediately pushing forward in a bid to get a glance at the screen.

May grabs my arm, eyes wide. ‘Oh my god. Okay. We got …’

The both of us lean in, and the groan we share is immediate. Great. I thought we’d have been seeded higher, but we fell right in the middle of the pack, second fiddle to the East Coast lacrosse schools. And our first match of the playoffs, first round, will be against …

‘Alabama?’ Brianna presses a hand to her forehead. ‘May, look at this bracket! We’re against ’Bama!’

‘Damn it,’ grumbles May. ‘Alabama …’

‘Took you guys out last year,’ I finish for her. Yikes. I mean, they could have been a lower seed and really got stuck with a terrific team as their playoff match-up, so this might be the best-case scenario, but the lore goes deep. Playing a team that knocked you out of the national playoffs always holds double weight.