Post-game, it was straight to the tent for May, even though she was able to get up on her feet. The Riders ended the game with a draw against the Marauders, and May learned she would be out for two weeks, at the least, and in for the six-step concussion protocol.

From the pained look on May’s face now, it’s clear to see she’s not happy about it. But there’s another expression, perhaps a hint of curiosity, that dances across her face. It could also just be the concussion. Or simply the fact that I’ve never been great at reading emotions.

She uncaps an electrolyte drink and takes a long swig. ‘It was admirable. Definitely helped our case. I mean, I ate shit, but at least we got something out of it. You didn’t have to do that, though,’ she adds quickly.

A twinge of nerves, the most emotion she’s shown openly, flashes across her face and then disappears, and she’s back to her straight-faced, nonchalant usual. She’s a little too good at this.

‘I know.’ I lean back against the doorframe and watch as her eyes search me for some sort of tell. ‘It’s just …’

Honestly, where do I start? That I believed I could undo all the mistakes I had made, that I understand all the ways I went wrong when I could’ve had something with this phenomenal girl? I believed that yes, she was gonna be just fine, but also, that there was some kind of hope that we would be just fine some day?

But the second we got off the field, I realized just how dumb I was to so much as entertain the thought. Like May had said a month back, no one asks to have their heart backed up over again after somebody’s already flattened it.

‘It was the right thing to do,’ I finally finish, and the weight in my stomach is as dense as lead. ‘It’s what everyone expected, right? Just keeping up appearances.’

Chapter Fourteen

Out of Hiding

May

My mom charges into the PT room like a hurricane of a woman, bringing her very full clear stadium bag and my dad with her. She swoops in so abruptly that my team, all of whom have now gathered alongside a ridiculously awkward Colt and a quite relieved Coach, have little time to react to her arrival.

‘It’s just a concussion …’ I’m literally in the midst of assuring my teammates when she gasps loudly at the sight of me.

‘May!’ Clucking her tongue, Mumma rushes up to me and tilts my head every which way, groaning unhappily when her fingers run over the bump. ‘May, what’s this? Why don’t y’all wear helmets?’

‘We’re not supposed to whack each other over the head,’ I grumble. ‘The other girl got a massive penalty for it.’