Looking skeptical, and realizing that I was nervous, he picked up his shirt off the floor.
“I’ve got to get to class,” I said as I slid down off the table.
Chris reached his hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear as my feet hit the floor, then he tilted his head slightly, which brought a cascade of waves across his own face, so I reached up, too, and moved them to the side. He grabbed my wrist again.
“Careful. Don’t start something we can’t finish. Just you touching me drives me wild, Allie.” He moved my hand to his chest, then he loosened his grip and laced his fingers with mine.
“I really have to go,” I said.
He put his shirt back on, tucked it in, and without another word, we left.
8
We walked in silence, fingertips occasionally grazing between stolen glances. My cheeks were still flushed with the mild embarrassment and confusion of what we had just done. My heart was still beating faster than normal. When we got closer to the Upper School, the bell rang, and a group of Chris’s soccer buddies spotted him and sauntered towards us.
“Hey man, where have you been? It’s time for the next period, let’s roll.”
Chris turned to me quickly.
“I’ll see you,” he said, and then just like that, he was immediately swept away with his group of friends.
I watched for a moment in disbelief as they walked away, hoping he would turn back around, but he didn’t. Griffin threw an arm around Chris’s shoulders, and they carried on down the sidewalk, laughing about something before they went into the building.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about his sudden, nonchalant departure. On the one hand, he was probably caught off guard by his friends, and maybe he didn’t know what to say to them about what we might be. Did I want us to even be anything? On the other hand, maybe I had upset him in the equipment shed by my abrupt ending of our time together. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to take things further. I also didn’t want to risk being walked in on or being late for class. Surely he understood that? Maybe not.
I tried to turn down the volume of my overthinking and headed off to class, but it was hard to focus as my mind wandered back to the equipment shed. By the time the bell rang, I hadn’t heard a single thing the teacher had said. I quickly scanned the board to write down the homework assignment and got to my locker to gather my books for that night so that I could get to study hall. It was the last period of the day before field hockey practice, and I was looking forward to blowing off some steam.
In study hall, I found a seat near the back like always, and I pulled out my homework to try to get ahead for the night. With papers sprawled out before me, all I could see was Chris walking away with his friends. My head felt like it as stuck in a vice with a mix of emotions between the equipment shed and then Chris’s sudden departure. ‘I’ll see you,’ he had said. What the hell was that supposed to mean? All I could hear was the tapping of the pencil on the desk next to me and the turning of pages in books. I wasn’t getting any work done at all, and I was really upset about the way I felt blown off by Chris in front of his friends.
It felt like an eternity before the bell finally rang. I had been watching the clock for the past twenty-five minutes, just waiting to spring out of my seat. When I finally left the room, I looked down the hall and was surprised to see Chris waiting by my locker, but still feeling like my chest was caving in, I pretended not to see him and I turned in the opposite direction to take the long way to the gym. Maybe he wanted to explain why he had ditched me, or maybe he wanted to tell me that I wasn’t his type, after all. Either way, I couldn’t face him after his weird ‘I’ll see you’ earlier. He must have seen me, though, because I heard him call my name over the crowd, but I kept walking without looking back.
Once I made it outside, I was home free because I knew he would be caught among the sea of people moving through the locker hall. Regardless, I picked up the pace just to make sure I would get to the gym before he could catch up to me. When I finally got into the locker room, the look on my face must have been one of relief that others noticed.
“Whoa, are you okay?” asked Courtney, who seemed genuine, even though I knew she was just being nosy.
“Yeah, fine, just stressed. I’ll be better once I get out on the field.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Hey, bring that five-gallon bucket of balls when you come out, please,” I said, pointing to the big green bucket near the door.
“You got it, Captain,” Courtney replied, as she threw her shirt on, got up, grabbed the bucket, tapped her stick on the top of the door frame, and headed out onto the field.
I took my time getting ready, replaying what Chris and I had done, and what he said earlier over and over again in my mind until the door to the field flung open and Coach DeLaney popped her head in as I was tying my cleats.
“You playing hockey today, Allie?” she said sternly.
“Yep, sorry, Coach, I’ll be right there.”
Shit. It was the first time I had ever been last out onto the field, so I quickly grabbed my stick out of my locker, tapped the top of the door frame, and headed out.
We huddled up around the bench and listened to Coach’s plan for one last practice before our big game the next day. Focus was key, and we had to give it everything so that we would be razor sharp. No distractions. I grabbed the bucket of balls and headed out onto the field, where I lined them all up onto the center line. With a sharp whistle from Coach DeLaney, we got to work.
I led the drill with the first ball at the outside line, hitting it as hard as I could down to the 25-yard line and right into the goal, then sprinted to the center of the field to hit the next ball. S’ sticks making contact with the balls was cathartic. I zoned out and honed in on my craft, only focusing on feedback from my coach. I didn’t even notice the soccer team running by until Isabelle got in line behind me on the last ball of the drill and brought it to my attention.
“Here comes Chris, and he’s looking hotter than ever,” she said, with a sexy, mocking voice.
I didn’t even look up. At the mention of his name. Out of anger, I brought my stick back and hit the ball as hard as possible. The ball left the ground in a clean drive towards the goal, but it bounced off the side bar and back onto the field. The plink of the ball missing the goal brought me to my knees in defeat, and my chin dropped to my chest. When I turned my head to look up at Isabelle and her jaw dropped in disbelief at the missed shot. Missing was not in my repertoire. Suddenly, my gaze drifted past her to see Chris standing off behind the bench, just watching me with a worried look on his face. He must have known this was not a normal performance for me. I quickly looked back at Isabelle before she noticed, and she offered me an outstretched hand to help me up. Then she put her arm around my shoulders, gave me words of encouragement, and we walked back to the rest of the team, who had been called in to discuss the next part of practice. I don’t know how long he stood there, but when I turned around to look again, he was running to catch up with his team.
