were an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist.
Things have been strained with Violet all week. While we’ve still been texting and talking, it isn’t the same. The distance between us is slowly killing me, like there’s a piece of myself missing. I’ve lived without her before, and I don’t want to do it again.
Not only am I stressed as fuck about her, but I’m also worried about the game—and starting to think she might be right. My symptoms haven’t improved nearly as much as I’d expected.
Vaughn drops his towel and sinks into the cold tub next to me, grimacing as the ice water envelops him. “What’s going on with you and Violet? Didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your fight last night, but it was kind of hard not to.”
“She doesn’t think I should play tonight,” I mutter.
Thing is, even if I wanted to pull myself from tonight’s lineup, doing it now would be terrible timing. Everything has already been set in motion, and I’d be letting a ton of people down by bailing on such short notice. Russell, my father, the scouts my father is sending, the team, Coach Ward. Not to mention, I’d look like an idiot for not speaking up sooner. But it tears me apart to see how upset Violet is over this. If she wasn’t in the picture, this would be a much easier call.
No matter what I do, someone is going to be disappointed in me.
Vaughn scans the room like he’s checking to make sure anyone is around. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Not you, too. It’s not that bad.” It really isn’t. Some mild dizziness here and there when I get my heart rate up, nothing I can’t deal with.
“You know I’m the last person to interfere with other people’s lives, but if there’s any doubt, you shouldn’t get on that ice. A minor concussion is still a concussion.” Vaughn says pointedly. “Besides, I need you to stay healthy so I can kick your ass when we play each other in the big leagues.”
“You mean, so I can crush your ass into the boards?”
“Gonna have to get faster before next season if you want to do that.” He smirks, but his expression quickly turns serious. “Real talk, Russell is a professional. I’m sure he’ll understand. Coach and the team, too. As for Doug, fuck him.”
I want to believe Vaughn, but what if Russell doesn’t? What if this is the final nail in my career coffin, burying it before it even begins?
Maybe Doug was right about Chicago dropping me eventually. I’m sure no one else will be chomping at the bit to pick up an injury-prone free agent once they do.
After a few more minutes, we get out and hit the showers, changing in the locker room. We head across campus together, splitting off as Vaughn heads to the Center for Management Studies. A boulder forms in my gut as I continue to the parking lot, disregarding my afternoon classes. I have somewhere else I need to be.
***
The wind howls as I slowly walk up to the gravesite, pulling up my hood. My dad used to bring me here several times a year. He stopped when he started dating Shannon. It was a slow fade-out at first. We used to go on major holidays, and then we started to go less and less often until we were down to only my mother’s birthday. Finally, when I was about twelve, we stopped going completely.
Once I got my driver’s license, I started going again alone.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Mom.” Shoving my hands into my pockets, I stare at the engraved marble headstone. Wishing I could remember her face; her voice; her laugh. What she smelled like. What her cooking tasted like. What she liked to do. All I have is a handful of photographs and shitty home videos from my first four birthdays. Doug isn’t much use for retelling stories.
There are a few things I remember. Being at a park with her when she was pushing me on the swing. Waking up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and being comforted by her. Decorating the Christmas tree with her and crying because I broke an ornament, and her telling me it was okay. But that scant handful of memories is outweighed by all the countless times I needed her, and she wasn’t able to be there.
“I know I’m fucking everything up.” I ease myself down onto the frozen ground and sit, leaning against the frigid slab of rock. I sit until the sun disappears behind a veil of gray clouds without returning. I sit until big, thick flakes of snow start to fall, flitting through the air on the breeze. I sit until my ears turn numb and my hands grow stiff from the cold.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for—what I think I’ll get out of sitting here like this. It’s not like she can answer me, and I’ve never been a big believer in signs.
I close my eyes, trying to turn down all of the outside noise inside my brain. Pushing out all the other voices. Doug, Coach Ward, my friends, even Violet.
In my gut, in my heart, in my head, I know what the right choice is.
It’s just not the easy one.
