I can’t share the truth: that I needed to forget Adler Beck, and telling her would have made that impossible. So, I share a morsel. “I thought it would be weird. You’ve got a poster of him on your wall!”

“Exactly why you should have told me! Having sex with Adler Beck is one of my life goals. I had a whole plan for how to approach him at the next Olympics!”

I head over to my duffle bag and start changing into my bikini. I’ve never felt jealous of Emma before, even though she’s got the perfect family, but I know she’s serious. Emma’s just as bold as I am; it’s part of why we’re such good friends. Given the chance, she would proposition him. The thought forms a knot of anxiety that drops in my stomach like a lead brick.

“Okay, we’ll get back to that,” Emma states decisively when I don’t say anything. “How was—”

“Emma, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?” I interrupt, using a serious tone I rarely employ off the field. “I’d say I’m sorry about not telling you, but I’m really not. If anything, this conversation has made me wish I never did.”

Emma huffs. “You were never going to tell me?”

“Honestly, probably not. I had no idea he’d show up here as some sort of guest coach.”

To be honest, I’ve never really understood the role of the clinic leaders here. Especially this year. In the past, they’ve mostly been female players a few years into their professional careers who have suggested new drills to run.

“He didn’t coach shit. Just stared at you.”

I don’t touch that comment, just pull sweatpants and a sweatshirt on over my swimsuit. “Ready?”

Emma sighs. “Yeah.”

We head out into the hallway. Everyone else is already waiting for us as we enter the elevator and then make our way through the maze of beige carpeting to the section of the hotel that houses the pool.

The walled-off area is swirling with steam and excitement when we enter. There are a couple hundred attendees at CFOC this year, and I’d estimate at least a quarter of them are in this space relaxing on loungers, sitting in the hot tub, or standing in the pool that maxes out at five feet.

There’s a game of water basketball already underway, and I quickly shed my clothes to jump in and play. I’m well aware I’m using sport as an escape right now, which is nothing new. It’s definitely healthier than other options.

The game lasts for about a half hour before it dies down. I’m eager to continue playing, but I’ve also swallowed more chlorinated water than I ever wanted to. Everyone else starts to trickle out of the pool and then out of the room.