I scan the front few rows, knowing there must be a section reserved for family, and find them almost instantly. All of them are decked out in the school colors, Jacey wearing her brother’s number, the jersey stretched over her sweatshirt. I feel bad that I left without saying goodbye or thank you. They probably think I’m a jerk. What did Sol say to them? Did he come clean? Did he convince Jacey not to say anything? I look away. It doesn’t matter.
As soon as the air horn signals the end of the final quarter, and the crowd erupts into a deafening roar of victory, I stand and leave. I’ve had enough torture for one day. A sliver of guilt weaves through my gut.
Perhaps that’s it. It’s the first time I’ve ‘seen’ him since Portland. Did I expect him to be broken up? Sad? Maybe. Fuck knows I’ve been a mess since I walked out on him. I had no choice, though. Leaving was the best thing to do. I helped him figure out that he likes guys. What he does with that is up to him. He’s clearly not broken up over the fact that it won’t be with me.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
Heading back to my dorm, I most certainly don’t have to hold back from kicking every damn trashcan on the way. Like I said. I’m fine.
SOL
Sweat drips, cold down my neck, causing me to grimace as my folks congratulate me on an epic first game of the season. It was, too. We annihilated South Washington and the whole stadium is still buzzing from the win.
“Excellent job, Sol,” Dad says, his face beaming. “We’re so proud of you.”
Zak grips my shoulder. “I need to steal the captain for debrief and showers, Mr. B.”
“Go,” Mom says. “We’re going to head back now before it gets too dark. Speak soon. Well done, both of you!”
Jacey gives both me and Zak a fist bump and I wave them off before turning toward the locker rooms. The space is electric with adrenaline and my speech to the team feels like it’s coming from someone else rather than the one I rehearsed in case.
“You did the team proud, Sol,” Coach Pearson says as the team starts to strip off for the showers. “Make sure they don’t celebrate too hard tonight.”
“I will,” I promise. “Although, I’m sure the seven a.m. practice you scheduled for tomorrow morning will do that job for me.”
Coach Pearson chuckles. “Works like a charm.”
Shaking my head, I start pulling off my sweat-soaked gear. The game was perfect. Well, almost perfect. Wes showed, but I have no doubt he’s already gone home. The fact he showed at all gives me a little hope. After avoiding me all week, I was preparing to deal with the fact we were done. I mean, there’s still the fundraiser to deal with, so we have to see each other at some point. But there are only six weeks left until the event, and it’s also the time swim and lacrosse season overlap, meaning the chances of catching up are slim to none.
“Hey, Captain,” Jackson calls out as I step into the showers and hang my towel. “I had an idea.”
Stepping under the warm spray, I reach for my shampoo, eager to get rid of the sweat. “Oh? What for?”
“Your fundraiser.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I assumed it was to do with the team. “What about it?”
“Well,” he says, flipping open his shower wash. “You’ve got the ‘rents donating prizes for the silent auction, right? Like my dad’s donating a vintage Patek Philippe watch.”
“Sure.” I wash the suds from my hair and scrub at the rest of my body. “I’m really grateful for that.”
“Yeah. Sure. But my idea is, what if there’s a live auction for students?”
I flick off the shower and grab my towel, rubbing my hair before securing it around my waist. “A live auction?”
“Yeah,” Jackson says, stepping out of his cubicle and falling into step with me as we head back to the lockers. “Like fun prizes we can win on the night. I’m sure you could get Alex to donate a kiss or something.”
I bark a laugh. “I don’t think Sasha would be down with that.”
“Yeah, well, you know what I mean.”
“I think it’s a fun idea,” Zak says, sitting down beside us and pulling on his sneakers. “I’ll donate a one-to-one lacrosse lesson.”
“Yes!” Jackson snaps his fingers, his smile bright. “See?”
I grin, finding it hard not to get swept up in their enthusiasm. “Sure. I’ll have a think about it.”