A lump grows in my throat at the glancing hint of pain in her voice. It’s the first time I’ve really heard it so quietly, tentatively. What my actions did to her.

I take the plate, and I turn off the water so I can make sure she hears what I tell her next. ‘Yeah, I did. I got a lot of things out of that move. College, the Chucks, lacrosse, all that. But May, man, I lost you. And there’s not a day that’s gone by since I left that I haven’t thought about that.’

This time, she has to hear me out. She’s definitely not asleep. She definitely heard it all.

Gaze lowered, May brushes a wave of hair behind her ear, tucking it into her braid. I have to fight the urge to weave it back in myself. Then she looks up at me, and it’s unnerving how vulnerable she seems. The familiar red-card chaos look is gone, replaced with big eyes, welling with tears. The only other time I’ve seen her like that was after her first concussion, way back in middle school. Manmayi Velasco never cried.

She says, voice so quiet it could be a whisper, ‘It really, really hurt, Colt. It still hurts.’

Chapter Twenty

Foul Play

May

I don’t give away emotions easily, and I’m still not completely sure why I surrendered to Colt in the way I did.

Even at the end of the week, as we warm up on the field for the home match against Mayfair, my first one back from concussion watch, it feels like a source of shame when he looks at me from the sidelines with this new air of guilt. It’s clear that if we keep going on like this – unable to meet one another’s eye, awkward, decidedly loveless – Rod Wilson, who I can tell is already suspicious as he watches the warm-ups from the sideline, may just find out we’re lying about our relationship, but that’s a whole other can of worms.

Fortunately for Colt, my focus right now has to be on nothing but locking in for this game and keeping consistent for the sake of my tuition.

With every ball I whip into the net, that dumb sentence replays in my mind. I got a lot of things out of that move, but I lost you.

BAM.

There’s not a day that’s gone by since I’ve left that I haven’t thought about that.

BAM.

‘May!’ Coach shouts, clapping her hands. ‘Save some for the match!’

Oh, I’ll have plenty left for the match.