I don’t believe it.
But he has the proof on his phone.
This is absurd.
An agonizing laugh slips from my throat, even though I don’t find a thing about this funny.
I’m a fool.
nineteen
Sophie
I sit frozen in my seat, waiting for Axl to acknowledge me after the game, but it is clear he needs some time alone. I haven’t seen this side of him before—the side where he’s hard on himself. Guilt snakes back into my gut, reminding me that although the last two days have been magical, I can’t ignore that Axl deserves to know the truth, even if it hurts him. If he’s this hard on himself over one loss, I can’t imagine how hard he’ll be on me if he thinks I intentionally tricked him.
The thing is, we both went into this knowing it was fake, and webothhad something to gain from the deception. He can’t be mad at me for that part. I never expected the emotions to snowball, and I need to clear the air about this.
The timing is horrible.
He gave me his jersey!
I can’t wear his jersey while knowing what I know.
The guilt is so thick that I’m nearly trembling, but I can’t risk blurting anything out in public, so I race home. We need to talktonight, but I struggle with what to say. I know he’s down, and I decide to try to cheer him up. I text:
Sophie: I’m still wearing your jersey.
The dots immediately appear on my phone indicating he’s texting back, and excitement bubbles in my gut.
Axl: Take it off!
Panic leaps in my throat, as the realization hits that something terrible has happened. I try to text, but my fingers are clumsy, and I’m afraid. Instead, I press call on his name and put the phone to my ear, and pray he picks up.
Who am I fooling?
Of course he doesn’t answer, and hot tears prick the backs of my eyes. He’s upset about the game, but he wouldn’t say that to me unless somethingelsehappened.
And since there is somethingterriblehe could find out, my mind goes to the worst.
He can’t possibly know.
I cool my expression while I breathe and collect my purse and phone. I head down the hall, taking my mom’s keys off the hook, and call to my parents, who are watching the news in the living room, “Going out. Taking the car.”
“Where are you going?” Mom asks.
“I have to find Axl. I did something incredibly stupid, and I have to apologize.” I wish I could lie, but I have a suspicion my lying days are over.
“Do you know where he lives?” Mom is crocheting something in her lap, but she manages to lift a brow in my direction while continuing her perfect stitches.
“I know the out-of-town players all stay in the apartments across from the rink.”
“All except Axl,” Mom says as she continues to stitch.
“How do you know that?”
“How do I know anything? Norma and her reliable church friends. She saw you last night sitting on the porch and came over earlier while you were gone. She made it a point to tell me everything she knows about him. For some reason that Norma couldn’t figure out, even though she inquired about it to all her friends, Axl rents a room above the barber shop downtown. She says it’s an older building, not even having air conditioning for the summer, and it’s not nearly as nice as the new complex the other guys stayed at. She was wondering if I knew the scoop.”
“Wow, thanks for the info, Mom.” Normally, I’d chuckle at something so ridiculously nosey as this, but tonight, I want to thank my lucky church ladies. I slip my shoes on and call out, “Don’t wait up for me!”
