Lennox looks up, surprised. "Uh, yes. Lennox Hayes."
"Maya Lynch. Carter's sister." She gestures to the bleachers. "Mind if I sit with you? It's boring sitting alone."
Oh no.
"Maya—" I start.
"I'm being friendly, Carter. Relax." She's already climbing into the bleachers before I can stop her.
I watch helplessly as my sister sits next to the journalist who's currently making my life difficult and strikes up a conversation.
This is a disaster.
Tyler skates up beside me. "Your sister's talking to Hayes."
"I'm aware."
"Should we... intervene?"
"How? I can't exactly stop my sister from being social." I glance over to them, wondering if we can intervene.
"Fair point." He watches them. "Think she's trying to get intel? Sister to girlfriend to journalist?"
"One, Lennox is not my girlfriend. Two, Maya's just being Maya. She's friendly with everyone."
"Even people actively trying to destroy your reputation?"
"She wrote one critical article. That's not destruction." My brain hurts, I’m trying to make all this right with Maya talking to Lennox, trying to get Lennox to mess up somewhere, by not helping her, and studying on top of that.
"You're defending her now?"
"I'm being accurate. There's a difference."
Tyler looks at me like I've grown a second head. "You're acting weird, Cap."
"I'm being professional."
"You're being something." He skates away, and I'm left trying to focus on practice while periodically glancing at the bleachers where Maya and Lennox are now laughing about something.
What are they talking about? Is Maya embarrassing me? Sharing childhood stories? Asking inappropriate questions?
This is going to be a long practice, because I can’t focus on anything.
When practice finally ends, I skate over to the boards.
"Maya. Time to go." I shout, my tone coming out a lot harsher than I wanted it to be.
"Just a minute. Lennox was telling me about her soccer injury. Did you know she tore her ACL during a championship game?" I didn't know that. Lennox mentioned losing her scholarship but not the specifics.
"That must have been hard," I say, looking at Lennox.
She shrugs. "It was a long time ago."
"Still. Ending your athletic career like that... I can't imagine." I say, not sure if this is a conversation we should be having or not. I don’t need to know everything about her.
"You don't have to imagine. You're living every athlete's dream." There's no bitterness in her voice. Just fact. "Not everyone gets that lucky."
"Luck has nothing to do with it."
