What is happening to me?
She's smiling. Actually smiling and for a second, it feels like she's proud of me.
Then I remember she's here to write about team culture, not to be a fan, and I refocus.
We won four - two. I got two goals and an assist. The team plays like a unit, supportive, aggressive, clean. Everything I've been trying to build.
After the game, media interviews are quick. Then I find Maya waiting outside the locker room.
"You played amazing!" She hugs me despite the fact that I'm sweaty and gross. "That second goal was incredible."
"Thanks. Ready to grab food?" I ask, because I could do with something, maybe even two meals.
"Actually..." She looks guilty. "I kind of invited Lennox to come with us. She was leaving and I caught her and asked if she wanted to join. Is that okay?"
No. It's not okay. Because having dinner with Lennox and my sister blurs every professional line I've been trying to maintain, and with her being there I can’t think straight because the only thing I keep thinking about is if her lips are as soft as they look.
But Maya's looking at me with those hopeful eyes, and I can't say no to her.
"Yeah. Sure. That's fine."
"You're the best!" She bounces on her toes. "She's waiting by the south entrance."
We find Lennox exactly where Maya said, looking uncertain.
"You don't have to come," I say immediately. "If it's weird or crosses professional boundaries?—"
"It's just dinner," Lennox interrupts. "And your sister's really nice. I'd like to get to know her better."
"See, it's fine." Maya loops her arm through Lennox's. "Come on. Carter knows this great pizza place off campus. Their breadsticks are life-changing."
We end up at Antonio's, a hole-in-the-wall place that's been a Thornhill staple for decades. It's loud and crowded and smells like garlic and cheese.
Perfect.
We get a booth in the back, Maya and Lennox on one side, me on the other.
"So," Maya says once we've ordered. "Lennox was telling me about her journalism program. Did you know she wants to do sports journalism for a major publication?"
"I didn't." I look at Lennox. "Which publication?"
"ESPN, ideally. Or The Athletic. Somewhere that takes women's sports and culture seriously." She fidgets with her napkin. "That's why your thesis interested me. You're asking the same questions I am, just from inside the system."
"And you think the system can be changed from inside?" I ask. A part of me didn’t think she would read it all, but the way she’s talking about it, she did. She spent the time and really read it.
"I don't know. Can it?"
"I'm trying to find out." The waiter brings our drinks and I take a sip. "But it's harder than I expected. People resist change. Especially when they benefit from the status quo."
"That's what power structures do," Lennox says. "Perpetuate themselves. It takes either massive external pressure or internal rebellion to shift them."
"And you think articles like yours are the external pressure?" Maybe not the question, but I never said I would make it easy for her.
"I think accountability is necessary. Sunlight as disinfectant and all that."
"But what if the sunlight is so harsh it burns instead of heals?” I say and her eyes snap to mine. We're staring at each other across the table, the conversation charged with something beyond just intellectual debate.
Maya clears her throat. "Okay, you two are doing that thing."
