“Then whatdoyou want?” she practically whispers.
The truth sits heavy on my tongue. Something I haven’t let myself think about in years, something I didn’t even know I wanted until I saw her standing there in the kitchen.
“Nothing,” I say instead. “We’re coworkers. Housemates. I won’t bother you.”
It feels like a punch straight to the gut saying it out loud. But maybe it’s what she needs. Maybe it’s whatIneed.
She swallows once, then nods tightly. It seems like there’s so much she wants to say, but she’s fighting with something inside herself.
“Good.” With that, she gathers her things and heads toward the stairs.
“Ellie?” I call after her before I can stop myself.
She pauses, just barely. I know everything in her is telling her to keep moving, but I also know she needs to hear what I’m about to say.
“I’m not trying to make your life harder.”
She doesn’t turn around. “You don’t have to try.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me in the kitchen with nothing but my throbbing knee and a growing ache in my chest that I don’t have a name for. I rub my brace like it’ll somehow fix the past too. No such luck.
Well, that could have gone better.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, distracting me from the self-deprecating thoughts swimming around in my head. Pulling it out, I see it’s my mom.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, trying to sound more upbeat than I feel.
“Hi, honey. I just wanted to check in to see how your first day as a coach went. You didn’t push the kids too hard, did you?”
I chuckle as I think back to the guys dripping in sweat, walking out of practice like they had sticks up their asses.
“It went well, mom.”
“How’s the knee? Are you settling in? Did you eat today? Remember what Dr. Larson said. Don’t push it,” she says hurriedly. Mom always worries. She’s been like that since I was a kid. I think it has to do with the fact that I’m an only child, so she feels extremely protective over me. It got worse after dad died. I know she’s lonely.
“The knee is the same, and I’m settling in fine.”
I hear her sigh of relief on the other end. “You know I worry about you, honey.”
“I know, mom. I’m okay, really. But I gotta go. I need to shower and stuff,” I say, hoping she’ll accept that, and she does.
An hour later, I’m showered and lying in bed answering a slew of text messages in the team group chat.
Rhode Island Stormies
Connor Grieves:That call was seriously fucked. The ref had it out for you, Calli.
Billy Callahan:I’m telling you, I’ve never been so personally victimized in my life.Felt intimate. Didn’t consent.
Theo Cramer:Maybe he was into you. You do have that “problematic but charming” energy.
Billy Callahan:Please. If he wanted me, he could’ve just bought me a drink instead of a penalty.
Connor Grieves:Honestly, the way he blew that whistle? Aggressive.
Wilder Ranslavic:A little too aggressive. Man really said‘watch this’.
Billy Callahan:Meanwhile I get slammed into the boards and he just… looks away. Classic.
