by Gina Azzi
* * *
Hours pass slowly like days and quickly like seconds. I’m lost to the moment. Of being back with the team, Valerie laughing as she tugs on my arm, Amanda convincing us all more shots are necessary, Amber’s hysterical dance moves. The music beats on, the alcohol flows freely, someone announces that the keg is kicked. And still, we dance.
Costumes transform as makeup is erased by sloppy kisses and bits of fabric are shed as the night progresses. Someone orders a crazy amount of pizzas, and we descend on the boxes like vultures.
I’m on my second slice, pieces of pepperoni sticking to the roof of my mouth, when I notice that Zack seems to have left. A pang of disappointment aches in my chest. He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t say anything.
He’s just a friend, Maura. Adrian’s friend.
But still, wouldn’t a friend say bye before leaving?
I’m chewing my slice pondering this over when someone bumps into my shoulder playfully.
“Watch it,” I say as I turn toward the body now blocking my path. And when I look up, I stare into the unfathomably deep, cerulean blue eyes of Zackary Huntington.
“Hey,” he says casually.
“Hi,” I reply, swallowing the last bite of my pizza and wiping my greasy hands on Lila’s skirt.
“I’m heading out.”
“Oh, okay.” I try to keep my voice neutral, but even I hear the disappointment that colors my tone.
“How are you getting home?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“Huh?” I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably walking.”
“What? No. You can’t walk back to your dorm alone at this time. It’s nearly 3:00 AM. Plus, it’s practically blizzarding outside.”
“Blizzarding?” I raise an eyebrow. “Is that even a word?”
He shrugs, smirking at me. “It’s snowing really hard.”
“I’ll be fine.” I place my hand on his bicep to reassure him. Then I feel the swell of his muscle, the warmth of his skin through his hilarious leotard, and I let my hand linger.
He shakes his head resolutely. “No. I’ll make sure you get home. Philips!” he calls to Marcus over my head. Zack leans down to whisper in my ear. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
I nod but he’s already gone, off to talk to Marcus.
I turn toward my friends and notice that Valerie and Amber looking at me strangely, as if they can’t figure out why I was talking to Zack. To halt the questions that I know are burning on the tips of their tongues, I ask, “Shots?” And when they both cheer, I know I’ve distracted them.
It isn’t until later, with Zack hovering nearby, that I realize he’s stayed behind even though Philips’ left. He’s stayed behind to keep an eye on me, to make sure I get home okay, to be here for me.
My heart warms at the idea, and I giggle to myself as I sip on my fourth beer. Maybe he’ll come back to the dorm with me, and I can convince him to spend the night? Get lost with him for a while. But then I remember that Zack and I, we’re friends. Just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.
Friends that are playing a stupid and dangerous game.
A game where someone is going to get hurt.
And I don’t know if my heart can handle any more hurt these days.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zack
The party is still going strong when Marissa decides to call it a night, dragging Philips home with her. I’m about to head out with them when I realize that Maura is drunk. Really drunk. And doesn’t have a way home. No way am I letting her stay here solo, stumbling home in the dark all alone, or worse: stumbling home under the arm of another guy. Plus, the snow is picking up and the ground is already covered. It would be tough to maneuver a path home sober, never mind when you’re already sloshed.
So I stay at the party to keep an eye on Maura. And now I’m just enjoying watching her dance, laugh, and interact with her friends in the center of the dance floor. It’s shocking, really, but I could stand here and watch the emotions flit over her face for hours. Now that she’s unaware that I’m watching her, she’s allowing herself to be carefree, uninhibited, beautiful. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.
* * *
It’s almost 4:00 AM when Maura and her girls decide to call it a night. They’re all drunk, laughing, rowdy balls of energy still riding a high of being together and bonding off the river. And I get it. The need to connect with your team, to live up the rare few nights when you’re all out, partying together. They don’t have practice in the morning, and they are definitely taking advantage of it. I let her take her time saying goodbye to them, waving and hugging and giggling the entire time, until I wrap my arm around her shoulder and tuck her into my side for the walk back to her dorm.
It’s freezing outside and each breath we exhale marks the air with steam, like a little sound bubble in a cartoon. I hug Maura closer, amazed that she’s not complaining about hypothermia with her bare legs and fleece. Our footsteps crunch the snow beneath our boots, and I guide her slowly, afraid she may fall on a patch of ice. A half a block in and I realize how ridiculous we must look: me, in green spandex and a blond wig; her, in a tiny skirt and a sash full of rowing pins; the two of us stumbling over tiny mounds of snow, stepping in the footsteps of the strangers who’ve crossed the path before us, laughing out white clouds of air. It’s almost like being in high school all over again, the innocence of the moment, oblivious to the weather conditions, walking home with a girl, dressed in hilarious Halloween costumes, hoping she lets me kiss her goodnight at her door.
“I can’t believe how much it’s snowing.” She laughs, looking up at the sky. Snowflakes tumble through her hair, across her the bridge of her nose, dotting her cheeks like freckles.
“This is crazy,” I agree. “Must be some kind of a record. I don’t ever remember it snowing this early.”
She nods. “Maybe it means we’re going to have a white Christmas.”
“Maybe.”
“Thanks for being my walking chauffeur,” she tells me, looking up at me through her dark eyes that seem to shine and burn all at once. “This is really nice of you.”
“Anytime,” I tell her honestly.
“Did you have fun tonight?”
“Not as much as you.”
She giggles and it’s sweet and amused, like a kid staying up past bedtime.
“Are you glad you came to the party?” she asks, suddenly.
I nod into the top of her head. “Yeah, it was surprisingly more fun than I thought it would be.”
“Why’s that?” Her eyes are dark and luminous, hints of desire surrounding an enormous vulnerability.
I work a swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I could tell her it’s because she was there, which is the truth. But is that fair? She’s drunk. She could act impulsively on those words and regret it in the morning. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings either. And, there’s always the obvious: she is Adrian’s sister. She’s supposed to be off limits. I’m supposed to be looking out for her like a brother, like a friend. The thought causes my shoulders to stiffen automatically. Jesus, I struggle to think of her as a friend, never mind a sister. Sister and Maura don’t even exist in the same sentence since the thoughts I have about her, the feelings I’m starting to feel for her, are anything but brotherly.
“Sorry,” she says softly, misinterpreting my silence. “I didn’t mean to make you have to stay longer than you wanted to.”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t make me do I anything I didn’t already want to. I’m glad I stayed.” I press a kiss to the crown of her head, letting my lips linger as I inhale the coconut scent of her shampoo.
Maura sighs contentedly and snuggles deeper into my side. I wrap my arm tighter around her shoulder. We walk the rest of the way in a natural, peaceful silence, the crunch under our boots the only sound in the dark night.
When we reach her dorm door, nerves zing up and down my spine like I’m fifteen year
s old all over again, walking Melissa Peters home from the homecoming dance. Standing under the lamppost in front of her house, wanting to kiss her, hesitating if I should, wishing I knew how to take control of the situation. God, I feel like a prepubescent teenager in Maura’s presence. It’s like all the girls I’ve ever been with, all the kisses I’ve stolen, all the experience I’ve ever had to get to this moment have abandoned me and I’m treading on ice: one wrong move, and it’s all over. And the last thing I want to do is push this beautiful girl away. So I brush a chaste kiss on her cheek and say goodnight outside her dorm door. And when she smiles the softest, sweetest, most innocent smile I’ve ever witnessed, I can’t help but smile back—a big goofy grin of a teenage boy falling helplessly in love with a girl he can never really have.
NOVEMBER
Chapter Thirty
Maura
The first snowfall of the season completely coats the ground on the first of November. The temperature dipped dramatically in the early morning hours, and I wake alone, wrapped warmly in my duvet, a slight headache pounding behind my eyelids and in my temples. I sigh, sitting up slowly and reaching for the water bottle and Advil I keep as permanent fixtures on my nightstand these days. Popping two Advil and draining half the contents of the water bottle, I flop back against my pillows and stretch, recalling the events of last night. The Halloween party, laughing with Valerie and Amber and Amanda, dancing and taking shots, walking home with Zack as snowflakes blanketed the ground around us.
Last night was innocent and fun and a blast from the past that I haven’t experienced in a long, long time. Not since before Emma, Lila, and Mia left for the semester. Maybe not even since before Adrian died. It’s been eons since I felt that carefree, stupid, blissful fun of being caught up in the moment with friends. Since I gave myself up to the music of the moment and really danced like no one, and I mean no one, was watching. Since I desperately wished for a goodnight kiss from a boy my heart stutters around.
I smile to myself. Last night was the only night of the semester so far that I’d describe as epic. Emma and Lila, tangled up with their own lives and used to being the life of the party, would laugh hysterically at me. Mia would smile and blush, now caught up in her own love, and nod in agreement. Sometimes sweet and innocent is better than rough and wild. At least, it was last night.
Stretching again, I’m relieved we don’t have practice today. I stand up slowly, tugging on a pair of sweats and slipping into slippers before making my way down the hall to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and combing my hair, I study my reflection in the mirror. My eyes look a bit tired but other than that my skin looks fresh, my cheeks rosy, my eyes sparkling. For the first time in a long time, I think I’m happy.
And the realization that I’ve been living my life in such despair for so long is almost as shocking as the relief that I feel like myself again. Smiling widely at my reflection, I twist my hair into a low bun. Rifling through the girls’ on my floor shower caddies, I borrow some blush, bronzer, and lip gloss. Glancing back at myself, I like what I see. I look like the old me; not someone trying to be older, sexier, edgier but Maura, student-athlete, loyal friend, dependable person.
And knowing that I’m still somewhere in the lie I’ve been living for months now is a beautiful realization.
* * *
Early in the afternoon I call Valerie to see if she wants to hang out. It’s disappointing to realize how far I’ve let myself drift from the girls on my team and now, especially with Lila, Mia, and Emma being gone, I could use some girl time with true friends.
She texts me a photo of a cafeteria tray followed by “fifteen minutes” and a snowflake emoji.
I laugh at loud, understanding her intent immediately. Racing to dress warmly and find my snow boots from last year, I add several layers of sweaters and socks before I trudge through the snow to the hill overlooking the library.
“Woo! You came!” Amber calls out, waving when she sees me. “I brought you a tray.”
“Thanks!” I holler back, the cold wind stinging my eyes as I walk into the wind to reach them. Valerie, Amber, Amanda, and Kay are huddled on top of the hill.
“Hi, Maura,” Kay says as I approach the group.
“Hey, Kay. How’re you doing?” I ask politely, smiling in thanks at Amber for the tray she places in my hand.
“Okay.” Kay shrugs.
“Let’s do this!” Valerie exclaims, sitting on her tray and sliding down the hill. She picks up speed and hits a bump three-quarters of the way down. Her loud laughter follows the trajectory of her body as she falls onto the snow-covered ground.
Amber and Amanda follow Valerie down the hill as Kay shifts awkwardly before me. “Look, Maura,” she begins, her eyes wide as she stares at me, “I’m sorry about what I said. I’d never declare you to the NCAA for drug testing. I was just pissed off. I mean, you’re so talented, you’re so good at rowing, and our boat needs you. I was angry with you for not giving a crap about the rest of us, for not pulling your weight. And I wanted to get your attention.” She shrugs. “I’m sorry about the way I went about it, though.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. You were right. And what you said, it was the wake-up call I needed. I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend, shitty teammate lately. But I do want us to have an incredible season. And I want us to win Dad Vail. To win every regatta we race in.”
She exhales loudly, relief evident in the way her eyes clear. She nods. “Okay then. We’re good.”
“We’re good.”
“Race ya to the bottom then!” she yells suddenly, tossing out her tray and jumping on top of it as she zips down the hill.
I laugh, watching Kay fly to the bottom, the other girls sitting on their trays in the snow, rolling snowballs.
I shake my head, the cold biting at my cheeks and stinging my lips. Then I call out a yell and sit on my tray, digging my heels into the hill for some leverage. Tucking my knees into my chest and resting the tips of my boots on the edge of the tray, I take off. The wind whips my hair back and the cold numbs my cheeks. Even though I can hardly feel my face, I can’t stop the laughter that tumbles out of me, relishing the moment of complete freedom and reckless abandon. This time, in a good way.
* * *
It’s not until four days later that I realize I’m late. And I’m never late.
I tap my fingertips nervously against the toilet paper roll. Shit. Could I be pregnant? The test offers results five days before a missed period. I’m three days late.
Oh God. How could I let this happen?
I stare at the poster on the back of the metal bathroom door. An inspirational quote. Really?
Fear has two meanings: Forget everything and run. Face everything and rise.
Jesus, how I want to run. Like a fucking cheetah.
I open the test packet with my teeth and take a deep breath. The bathroom is quiet save for the spontaneous drip from a leaky faucet. Uncapping the test, I say a silent prayer to the universe that I’m not pregnant. Then I pee for the obligatory five seconds, recap the test, and lay it faceup.
6:52 PM
The longest three minutes of my life stretch on forever.
Willing myself not to peek, I stare at my phone urging the seconds to tick by faster. What do I do if I’m pregnant? I’ve always been careful. Always. Fuck. I wouldn’t even know who the father is. Married man? No, he was too long ago. Hector? Jesus, please not Hector. The random from the club? I don’t even remember his name! God, did I ever know it in the first place?
6:53 PM
I did this to myself. I deserve to be punished.
But is a baby really a punishment?
Would I keep it?
Could I not keep it?
My baby is not an it!
Oh God, I want the three minutes to end.
6:54 PM
Exhale deeply. Everything is going to be okay Maura.
I pick up the test. My fingers shake lightly. And there, staring up at me, r
emarkably bold and unmistakably pink are two straight lines.
I’m fucking pregnant.
* * *
My fingers tremble slightly as I sit alone in my dorm room. It’s already dark outside, but I haven’t bothered to close the blinds. It’s just easier letting the darkness seep in. Just like I let it enter my soul. Too dramatic? I’m at a complete loss of what to do here. My first reaction is to call my friends. And I do. But after no one answers, I decide maybe it’s best if I sort out my feelings on this solo. There’s no way I can confide in anyone on the team. And my parents may as well have a heart attack that their baby girl is knocked-up out of wedlock. Jeez, I can practically see the tears rolling down my mom’s heart-shaped face and sense the disappointment in my dad’s eyes.
Nope, I’m on my own on this one. Which isn’t that surprising considering I got myself into this mess all by myself. But still.
My hands instinctively cup my lower abdomen. It’s still flat, no sign of a little baby growing inside. But I know my baby is there. And already, I love him or her. With a newfound purpose, an energy I haven’t felt since before Adrian’s death, I stand up from the bed. It’s time I get serious about this. I have another life to care for now. It’s not just all about me.
I grab a trash bag from my desk drawer and toss out all the alcohol and cigarettes in my room. And damn if I’m not ashamed by the quantity. Two bottles of vodka (one Skyy and one Belvedere), one bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold tequila, four bottles of red wine (merlot), and three packs of cigarettes. I’m nearly desperate to be rid of it all, and I feel nothing except relief as I toss the trash bag down the garbage chute in the hallway.