I sniff up a laugh. “I was. Don’t lie.”
Matt rounds the corner and says, “Maybe you were just distracted by your new girlfriend?” He slaps his play calling sheet against my arm. “But you had a few good catches.”
Then I tell them everything that happened.
J.D. says, “Trust is important, but this is different than a girl cheating on you.”
I shake my head. “I know… but I didn’t just open my head for her to tinker with, I opened my heart and told her my fears and…”
He clasps his hand over my shoulder and makes me look him in the eyes. “Let the shock wear off and then figureout what you want and how you can help, not just Anna but all the victims. And since Witt has the information, read through it. She was fourteen, that’s younger than Paulina.”
He’s always calm, cool, and collected, a John Wayne type without the hat. He dissects everything. Analyzes everything, and he’s telling me to do that too before I make any rash decisions.
“I love her.”
“I know you do. Just think about it before doing something you’ll regret. It’s not easy to find the right one. Sometimes they chew your head off when you try to pick up their shattered guitar case,” he laughs, recalling when he met Birdie for the first time. “Sometimes they think they’re shielding you from the pain and they don’t want you to think of them as the victim like in Sutton’s case.”
The muscles in my face tremble. “Thanks, John David,” I say as he hugs me.
“I miss being called that. Mom used to say my full name all the time, not just when I was in trouble.”
Matt chimes in. “And sometimes you think you’re saving them, but in reality they’re the ones saving you.” He slaps my back. “Noelle sure saved me… from giving up, so let me know if you need to talk it out, and I’ll call Noelle,” he teases.
They all know we’re thick as thieves and she always has a unique way of looking at things.
“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Sorry I missed the post-game lecture.”
“Go home.”
I make it halfway down the tunnel to the players parking area when my phone buzzes in my hand. I almost ignore it, but something in my gut twists.
I pull it out of my pocket.
Unknown number so I let it go to voicemail.
I know I shouldn’t open it to listen, but I do anyway.
Unknown: There’s more to the story.
It’s Nadia’s voice I hear.
THIRTY-TWO
ANNIKA
SUNDAY NIGHT
I don’t rememberthe drive home.
I don’t remember unlocking my door or kicking off my shoes or even setting my bag down. All I remember is the silence. The kind that presses in from every direction until I’m gasping for air.
Somehow I make it to my bed before it consumes me. Tears come first, burning under my lids before I even realize I’m crying.
The weight of Parker’s words hits me again. Then everything I said. Then everything I didn’t.
You let him hurt your friends and teammates.
The words bounce off my walls because there’s nothing to soften them. No noisy fans leaving the game, or honking horns.
