‘But our girl is the one we care about.’ She sighs, clearly unhappy. Mumma always thought I’d follow her into dance, her high-school sport, and I think she was glad that I first befriended Jordan, who’d been a dancer from a young age, hoping some of it would rub off on me. Instead, we had only strengthened our allegiance to lacrosse, and although I know Mumma is proud of me, I’m sure every game we play creates a marked increase in her blood pressure.

Papa clears his throat. ‘We’re just glad you’re okay, mija. You gave us a scare. And we’re glad we could count on Colt to be there for you.’ He throws a proud-dad smile Colt’s way – interesting. As concussed as I am, I recall immediately that even our parents are living in the lie. The stern nudge that Jordan gives Colt doesn’t escape my notice.

‘Absolutely – um, absolutely,’ Colt finally replies, returning the proud-dad smile with a wobbly little one of his own. ‘Nowhere I’d rather be than by her side. I’m as relieved as you are.’

Oh, so that’s easy for him to say.

I beam up at Colt, the most plastic grin I have. ‘It’s once in a blue moon that you’ll get a boyfriend who’ll run onto the field for you.’ Then I turn to my mom, and with a raise of an eyebrow, ‘See? I’m all good. Colt will be the first one on the scene if anything happens.’

Mumma doesn’t look persuaded, but nods anyway. She exchanges a look with Papa that I don’t particularly love, and as much as I can feel her next words coming, they still strike terror straight through my chest when she speaks.

‘Colt, we really do appreciate you. I’m not sure what we can say or do to thank you. Especially considering you’ve been so close with May so early on. It’s so wonderful to see things are finally … coming together,’ she tells him. ‘And really, do drop by our home when you get the chance. We’d love to have you for dinner sometime. Just as a thank you.’

I am mortified on the inside.

As if it wasn’t enough to let myself absorb the blowback from the concussion, the games I’ll miss, and the way Athletics is going to look at me after this, my parents are being beyond cordial. They’re treating this guy like family.

I try my best to channel ‘confused concussed woman’ while continuing to plaster the empty smile on my face.

Colt, for all his bluster, looks like he’s holding back panic when his eyes dart from me to my mom to my dad, the both of them, at least, waiting expectantly. ‘Well – I couldn’t impose—’