Dad would have loved this.
He would have been there in the stands anytime he could, probably yelling at the refs. He would have called me after every game, pointing out what I did right and what I could improve.
He would have been so proud.
The thought catches in my throat.
I blink hard and roll over, pressing my face into the pillow.
One week until Showcase.
One week to figure out how to survive it.
20
LEONORA
The highway stretches out in long grey lines ahead of us.
Tara drives with the same calm concentration she brings to everything else - hands steady on the wheel, her coffee balanced in the cup holder.
The equipment bag sits in the back seat.
Lee Shaw is officially on the road.
For a while we just listen to the quiet hum of the car and the low music through the speakers. The early morning sky is pale and washed out, the sun still trying to break through the clouds.
Eventually Tara glances at me.
“You nervous?”
“A little.”
She smiles slightly. “You should be.”
I watch the road slide past the windshield.
The wordShowcasehas been floating around campus all week like something magical.
Students have even been talking about it in the dining hall.
Tara taps the steering wheel lightly with her fingers.
“You’ve been amazing, Leonora.”
I glance over.
“I mean that,” she adds. “What you’ve done for this team… it’s incredible.”
The compliment warms me more than I expect. “Thanks.”
“But,” she continues gently, “this weekend is different. The medical excuse was only meant to cover a few games. A temporary situation while Grant recovered.”
“I know.”
“A whole weekend tournament…” She exhales quietly. “That’s trickier. The Giants weren’t on track to qualify for this.”
The highway curves slightly and she adjusts the wheel.
