A few people walked past me without hesitating. In silence, I prayed I would continue to go unnoticed. Usually, this type of prayer worked long enough for me to recover on my own. My panic attacks only lasted a few minutes before I could rejoin society, with no one realizing my breakdown. My recovery always happened alone.
Except for this time.
I hadn’t realized my feet had led to the front of the athlete training building. The stone bench I occupied sat right at the bottom of the staircase out front. When Dakota’s face appeared in front of me, I blinked at his moving lips. He repeated whatever he said a few times, but it was David’s words I finally heard.
“Leave her alone,” David said. He stood a few feet away from the kneeling Dakota. His arms were crossed over his chest and mouth held in a firm, unimpressed line. “She needs space.”
“She needs help,” Dakota argued and rested a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I wanted to find comfort in it, but I couldn’t. My body tensed. Dakota pulled back immediately. I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out.
David snorted at my reaction. “What did I tell you?”
“Shut up,” Dakota grumbled as he moved away a little more. “What do you need, Covee?”
I shook my head. What did I need? I didn’t know. That was the problem. That was always my problem. I never knew… that is until Weston. Until he offered. He gave. But that wasn’t enough, was it? Could it?
“Nothing we can give her,” David readjusted his gym bag on his shoulder. “Give her a second. She’ll figure it out on her own. Like the goddamn rest of us.”
“Man, look, you’re not helping.” Dakota glanced at his teammate over his shoulder. “Go catch up with the rest of the guys if you’re going to act like a prick.”
David scoffed. “Whatever. Call Weston to clean up his mess, okay? You got enough on your plate with the game coming up.”
Dakota waved his hand dismissively. David chuckled, not at all fazed by Dakota’s anger. Before leaving, he gave me one last look over. His eyes lingered at my hands. I tucked my shaking fingers into a fist. I couldn’t read his expression before he turned around to start down the sidewalk.
“His boyfriend recently cheated on him. And Kevin kind of stole his girl a few months ago,” Dakota explained. “He’s on an ‘every man for himself’ kick.”
When I didn’t reply he added, “Here. Drink something.”
Dakota cracked open a bottle of water. My trembling hand clasped onto the bottle. He wrapped his hand around mine to steady me as I took a couple of sips. When I nodded, he pulled the water bottle away and replaced the cap.
“Do you need me to call Weston?” Dakota offered.
I considered it for a moment before shaking my head. My voice sounded quiet when I told him, “No, I’ll be fine. He’s busy.”
“I know what you mean to him,” Dakota said with a serious look. “He’s never that busy for you. He told me as much.”
A small laugh escaped my lips. I closed my eyes briefly because the action made my head spin.
“I’m not joking,” Dakota promised. “I’m his roommate, remember? Practically brothers at this point.”
“No, I believe you,” I said with a sigh. “I just… Didn’t realize he talked about me to others. We’re not actually…”
“Dating?” Dakota finished for me. His eyes scanned my face. This guy had a sleeve of tattoos on both arms and a piercing on his eyebrow. His biceps curved sharply underneath his athletic turtleneck. Dakota looked harsh but sounded soft. His stare searched for pain. His expression offered comfort. Why did his coaches want to hurt someone like him?
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Still doesn’t mean the guy can’t be head over heels for you,” Dakota said.
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I guess.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Dakota pushed off the ground and joined me on the bench.
“Just got an overwhelming reminder,” I whispered while staring across the sidewalk. The athletic training center was right across from a soccer field. A group of girls were busy laughing and dribbling their balls through a maze of caution cones. I focused on their movements. My head still buzzed slightly. Thankfully, my heart rate slowed with every even breath I took.
“Reminder?” Dakota tried to prompt.
I didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. He stayed still. Stayed patient.
