“I’m a little banged up.” She shrugs. “Double knee braces. Rash cream. My finger might fall off. The norm.” She cracks a smile.
I’m about to ask if there’s anything I can do—even though, from the research I’ve done, I’m practically useless—when a vexed voice booms through the locker room.
“I’m sorry?” Coach Cole snaps. “Did the Grizzlies turn intoSlothsduring hibernation? Clarke, why is your team not on the ice?”
Everyone’s eyes snap to me, and I immediately jump into mediation mode. “Sorry Coach!” I answer, hopping off the bench. Darcy takes a step back from me, clutching her clipboard to her chest. “My fault. We’re coming!”
Her gaze narrows onto me, sternly, but she grants me a sharp nod before disappearing out of the locker room. I slam my dry stall closed, gesturing for everyone to vacate as soon as possible.
“Code MB!” I yell, pushing everyone toward the door. Darcy looks at me, red brows furrowed.
“What’s code MB?” she asks.
I grin. “Code Mamma Bear.”
Darcy erupts into a fit of giggles, slapping a hand over her mouth. Then, her expression turns warning. “Don’t let her catch wind of that. I won’t be able to save you.”
“Oh, come on Kimmy.” I flash her a toothy grin. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”
Voices echo as the team travels through the tunnel, a cluster of green already moving like a school of sweaty fish. I’m walking side-by-side with Darcy, like we did downtown, and in Salem. I only realize she’s stopped when I feel a light, familiar tug on the sleeve of my jersey.
The smile breaking across my face is unstoppable as I turn to face her. Bodies move around us like we don’t exist; onlyHarlowe seems to notice, patting me silently on the shoulder as she passes. We just stand there, staring at one another.
When everyone else is far ahead, funneling onto the ice, I can’t help but feel like this is my moment to say something. Todosomething. To ask if I’ve been reading between lines that don’t exist, or if that night in the hotel, when she said it didn’t have to mean anything, she was doing what I’ve been doing this whole time.
Claiming I’m too busy. Calling it bad timing. Making excuses to prevent what had already begun. But when you bury something that has already taken root, it only grows.
The tunnel is vast, and all-encompassing, but the silence is even more so. And just when I gather the courage to open my mouth, Darcy speaks.
“You deserve to be here,” she says firmly. The weight of her hands sink to either side of my shoulders, and her eyes study mine like a map. I think back to the night of the party, when she was drunk in my room, standing in the same position.
I wanted to push her away then. All I want now is to kiss her.
“You deserve to be here,” she repeats. “I know you don’t believe it. I know that voice in your head keeps telling you you’re a fraud. But it’s proof you’re not. People who don’t care don’t question themselves. Youdo. Because this matters to you.”
I’ve heard that phrase a lot.
You deserve to be here.
It’s something my therapist has had my family tell me for years, and not that it doesn’t help, but it feels different coming from Darcy. Maybe because she owes me nothing. Maybe, it’s what she follows them up with. The reasoning behind it. Or maybe, it’s just the way it sounds when she says it.
There’s something about her that turns the pieces of myself I’ve always resented into pieces of myself I don’t. It’s like she sees the darkest parts of me and calls it light.
I smile softly, reaching my hand up to brush her hair out of her face, when suddenly—
“Clarke! Darce!Get your asses out here!”
I pull back quickly, blood pooling in my cheeks. Judging by the deep crimson spreading across Darcy’s face, she’s feeling the same sheepishness. We both stumble into motion, scrambling down the tunnel and bursting out into the harsh stadium light.
I rush onto the ice, surveying my team as they warm up.Myteam. My family. One that I deserve.
Maybe, if I say it enough, I’ll keep believing it.
“Cap!” Coach calls, tossing her head toward me. I lock eyes with her. “Lead regroup drills. Your choice.”
“Yes Coach!” I call.
I quickly turn back to the ice, clearing my throat. My voice comes out strong and steady, like I’ve done this all my life. “Circle up!”
