Page 36 of Made Better Together

“So you start your captain practices tomorrow?” Dad asks.

“Yeah, I get to run the team ragged.” There’s a little glee in my voice, but it’s more at the thought of being with everyone again for the first part of our preseason than at being tough on them.

“Love it. God, I’m going to miss things like that on the coach’s side of the world.”

“Don’t you get to boss everyone around even more?”

He laughs. “I guess, but it’s different. Not the same vibe.”

“I get it.” Dad’s always had tons of friends on the team. I’m sure it’s going to be weird coaching them.

“What’s next on your med school apps? Sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk more since you came back.” He’s been spending long hours at the Waves facility as the coaches prep for preseason.

“If schools are interested, I get invited to submit secondary applications. Like personal essays and stuff.” I’m starting to pre-write some of them, based on the recommendations of my Tolliver adviser.

“Soon?”

“Yeah, I should hear back before classes start.”

“Well, I know it’s a heavy load of work with everything else, but I agree with your mom. Play both angles, soccer and med school, until you have to choose.”

I hadn’t gotten into the weeds with Connor in the wine cellar, but this had been an ongoing topic of conversation in my time in California, again. Mom’s strong opinion was to work both tracks for my immediate future post-college. Pro teams aren’t allowed to approach me until my final NCAA game, so I don’t lose my eligibility. You “just never know” what’s going to happen in sports, in her words.

I ultimately relented because, like I told Connor, Mom’s passion for her patients reminded me of the appeal of starting my journey to be a doctor.

But if I’m being honest, I also hate making tough decisions like this. Ultimately, I know my parents will support me either way. I’m just not ready to decide, and I’m scared to make the wrong choice.

The price of my indecisiveness is that my to-do list is over the top, overwhelming me heading into the fall.

Before I can respond to Dad, there are sounds of feet shuffling and a familiar whine behind us.

“We should go soon. Nat’s getting tired,” Tina says to Dad when she and Nat reach the table.

“Yeah, let’s start saying our farewells. I know the younger crowd will be dancing all night. I’m sorry, Eden.”

The plan was always that I’d leave with them on the early side. “It’s okay. I don’t know anyone that well either.” Except Connor, who’ll be pulled in different directions.

“Okay then, let’s make the rounds.”

The “rounds” include farewells to a bunch of the Waves team and staff, and Dad manages to catch Johnson before he’s grabbed by someone else.

“Congrats, Samuels. You’ll love married life.”

“I already do, Coach,” Johnson retorts with a wink.

“We’re good to leave now,” Dad finally says to us after a few more conversations.

Our foursome heads to the exit, but I turn back just as we’re about to pass through the ballroom door.

Somehow I already know what I’m going to see before I do—and yep, Connor’s watching me from across the room. He’s with a bunch of his family, seemingly too trapped to come say goodbye.

There’s a look of apology in his expression as we lock eyes.

Anytime. But not this time.

10

CONNOR