by Sam Ledel
Joey rolls her eyes, and Jax shoots her a look, but the whistle is blowing again and we move back to our original places.
Emily’s arm is up once more, and then the ball is flying at us, this time more directly and faster. I move in front of Jax, ready if it comes our way. Then suddenly, it’s like everything is on fast-forward. We all crash in toward the goal, and as the ball reaches us, I find myself near the bottom of a pile that’s jumping for a header. Shoulders crash and legs get tangled, and I’m shoved downward. But my eyes are still up on the ball as Jax leaps up to make contact. At the same time, Joey has jumped up from her mark with her hand balled into a fist.
The sound of her fist making contact with Jax’s temple reminds me of the ball smacking right into the goal post. There are a lot of “oooohhs” as Joey’s fist, Jax’s head, and the ball all ricochet off each other in opposite directions. The ball lands on the other side of the goalie box behind us. Joey lands on her feet, shaking her fist out, and Jax is bent over, her hand on her temple.
“Holy shit!” she cries. “What the hell was that?”
I move away from both of them as T. rushes over to Jax.
Joey stands upright, pulling her shoulders back. She shrugs. “I was making sure the ball didn’t get past me.”
“And, what, you temporarily mistook my head for the ball?” Jax bites back.
“Okay, okay,” Coach says, moving between everybody and standing between Joey and Jax. She lifts up her sunglasses and her dark eyes rove over her players. “Reset, ladies, reset. Jax, are you all right?”
Jax stands up and rubs at the side of her face. It’s red but doesn’t look swollen. She nods, reaching out to grab my hand. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I’ll live.”
When Jax releases my hand, it’s like a button is pressed, opening an invisible door from where unspoken words crawl out from behind Jax’s eyes and move slowly toward the goal line where Joey stands. Imagining all of this, the hairs on my arm stand straight up. Joey and Jax have never been close as teammates, but this was slowly starting to feel like some sort of territorial showdown. Sure, some words had been shared on the field over the last few months. I know Joey becoming the permanent goalie has Jax wound up. Between that and the stress of Coach’s workouts, it makes sense they’re a little on edge. But there’s no reason, I think, as Emily shoots me a look over her shoulder, for them to do something crazy, like throw punches.
I watch Joey in the goal. She cracks her neck and swings her arms across her chest, and her eyes are locked on Emily standing on the corner. We reset again at the top of the box. Jax gives my arm a brief nudge, and I smile. She’ll be fine. I was silly to worry. It’s all just friendly competition.
This time, when Emily fires another kick off from the corner, I’m two steps ahead of everyone. The ball falls toward us with a high, sloping arc. I hear the thunder of cleats behind me, but my eyes are trained on the ball.
“Got it!” I cry.
“Mine!” I hear half a second later. But I’m already jumping and so is Joey. My forehead collides with the ball, and I direct it away from the net. Joey’s body is flush against mine, and then one of her legs tangles with mine while we’re still in midair.
I fall. Hard. My leg that had been caught with hers lands a second after my right one, and I know what happens as soon as I hear it.
Crunch.
The rest of my body follows my ankle and I flop into a heap on the ground. The whistle blows from somewhere behind me, but all I see is an obnoxious collection of stars as I clench my eyes shut and roll onto my back.
“Dammit,” I grumble.
There are hands—big hands—suddenly on my arm. It takes me a second to realize they’re not hands but gloves. I open my eyes. Joey leans over me, her usually clear gaze clouded with panic.
“Oh my God, Kyle, I’m so sorry!” she says, her eyes moving down to my ankle and back up to me. “I heard you call it, but I was already jumping, and then I couldn’t stop myself, and then my knee got caught under yours, and I’m so sorry!”
She’s kind of cute when she’s flustered.
Wait. What?
A jolt of pain runs from my ankle up to my knee. I grimace. “I’ll be fine,” I finally say, looking up at Joey. The rest of the team has circled around me. “Really,” I say, letting Joey help me up. I put my weight on her after a quick try of my ankle proves useless. “I’ll be fine.” Jax appears on my other side. Her right arm slips under my left and around my back, and she pulls me toward her.
“I’ve got it,” Jax says, more at Joey than to me.
“It’s no problem,” Joey says, “I’ve already got her.”
“I think I can help my girlfriend over to the bench.”
I limp between them and my face flushes as we walk through the rest of the team and over to the sideline. Neither of them concedes, and the three of us finally make it over to the bleachers. I fall down onto the first metal bench with a wince and prop my foot out in front of me.
“She needs ice,” Joey says, looking through the trainer’s cooler.
“I know she needs ice,” Jax calls back. My ankle is throbbing so much I have to close my eyes to try to block it out. “She’s my girlfriend,” Jax says. “I think I know how to take care of my own girlfriend.”
The whistle blows. “Ladies,” Coach shouts from across the field. “Get ice on Kyle, stat. Carver, get back out here!”
My eyes are still shut, but I hear Joey take a deep breath, followed by the sound of her footsteps fading as she heads back to the others on the field. Then there’s a rustling from the trainer’s cooler followed by a shadow over me. I hood my eyes and open them to find Jax. Her eyes—bold, surrounded with their signature black eyeliner—are focused on the ice pack in her hands. She cracks it and sets it against my ankle.
“Thanks,” I mutter, turning slightly to face her.
Jax coos something into my ear, but the throbbing makes it hard to hear. She kisses my temple. The sweat from her chin mingles with my cheek, and the sweetness of it lingers when she sits back up.
“I’ve got you,” she says. There’s a hint of something in her voice, but my ankle is pulsing so much I can’t gather my thoughts enough to pinpoint it. “Whatever you need, babe, just tell me.”
I swallow, my throat parched, and close my eyes again. “I’ll be fine, Jax, don’t worry. It’s just an ankle sprain.”
I take a deep breath and relish the feel of her fingers as they move through my hair and down my face. Of course it’ll be okay, I tell myself. My ankle, my lingering concern about Jax and Steven. I was silly to even worry. Jax will take care of me. She would never do anything to hurt me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“You should do something about this.”
I glance at Emily from where I’m sitting on my bed, my left leg out in front of me with a bag of frozen peas resting on my now very swollen ankle. I lift the bag briefly and my face falls at the shade of purple that’s sprung up around the bone. The wind howls as an evening storm brews outside, the bare branches scraping against my bedroom window.
“Yeah.” I grimace and try to rearrange the pillow behind me to keep myself propped up. “I know, Emily. Hence the ice pack.”
“No,” she says, swiveling my desk chair around so that she faces me. “I mean, you’ve got to do something about the whole Jax and Joey situation.”
“Oh.” I frown, leaning back with a huff against my wall of pillows. I was hoping what had happened at practice hadn’t been as obvious as it evidently was.
Emily looks at me, her eyebrows raised. Then she glances back at my laptop, which I notice is open to Facebook. She speaks in a slightly higher voice, her fingers up in air quotes. “‘Ugh…some people just can’t appreciate other people’s happiness and have to drag them down,’” she finishes, her eyes back to me.
I shrug. “One of your professors upset about exam grades?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
Emily shuts the laptop and spins around fully to
face me, her dark curls now a mane framing a face of disbelief. “No, that’s Jax’s latest post.”
I nod. “Ah.”
Emily takes a deep breath. “I’m going to start this by saying that I love you. You’re my best friend, and I’m so happy that you’re here and we’re playing together and that everything from this summer is water under the bridge. But…” She trails off, looking at me as if I should know where this will end.
I stare back at her.
“Seriously, Kyle. Last week in the weight room Jax practically dropped the barbell on Joey’s face.”
I fiddle with the bag of peas but don’t say anything.
“And have you completely forgotten about the time Joey slid for the ball and cleated Jax’s thigh?”
I give her a look. “Come on, that’s just part of the game.”
Emily’s hands fly up. “Really, Kyle? You really don’t see what’s going on here? It’s like the freaking novellas I watch for Spanish class.”
“No, I don’t see.” Her eyes are still pinned on me. Eventually, I sigh. “Well, maybe.”
She nods. We’re quiet for a moment, then she asks, “Do you love her?”
I don’t know why, but the question makes me reel. Obviously, the answer should be an immediate, unwavering yes. I’m with Jax. Me. I’m actually dating the girl whose first words to me knocked me off my feet. Jax, who is stunning. Fun. Full of life. But that little voice in the back of my mind begins to whisper. Yes, she can drink too much. And she’s the type to post our dirty laundry on Facebook and Twitter. But all of that doesn’t make her a bad person.
And maybe things haven’t been as great as they were when we first became girlfriends. The first two months were magical. Pure bliss. Things aren’t bad now, by any means. It’s just that now…I can’t seem to ignore the other thing that has followed me like a shadow for so long. That one person who’s always been there, even when I tried to forget her.
As if she knew my thoughts had drifted to her, my phone dings. I reach for it resting on the blankets by my knee. Sure enough, there’s Joey’s face—captured in a hilarious smile with her face covered in colorful splatters after a paintball fight. I open up her message.
Hey. Just making sure you haven’t had to chop your leg off or anything. Let me know if you need more frozen peas.
I smile, but then Emily clears her throat and brings me back to reality.
“Which one?” she asks, her brow raised.
I look up. “Joey.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, and I see the wheels turning in her head. “Put the phone down.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Emily stands up. “Put the phone down. Don’t reply.”
“I’m sorry…what?” I ask, entirely confused as Emily walks over to my bed and plucks the phone out of my hands. “Wait. Hold on,” I say. “What are you doing?”
“Saving your skin.” She looks around the room before her eyes settle on my mini-fridge. She walks over to it, opens it up, and sets my phone next to a bottle of blue Gatorade. “There.” She smiles at herself as she closes the door and straightens back up.
“What does chilling my phone have to do with saving my skin?” I ask, wincing at the pain that shoots up through my foot.
She sits down on the edge of the bed and gives me a look. It’s one of her classic Emily looks, and I know it means I’m about to be in for it.
“Listen, Kyle,” she says, “you’re with Jax. And Jax, apparently, makes you happy, right?”
I raise an eyebrow, realizing I’d never answered her earlier question. “She does,” I say, picturing Jax wrapping her arms around my waist when she sneaks up behind me on the field. I feel her hands on my hips, and I smile. “She really does.”
“Right,” Emily says. “Well, then, if she makes you happy, then that’s what counts. I am glad that you’re getting out there. And, sure, I thought maybe you’d have leaned toward a taller, more levelheaded ‘out there,’ but hey, that’s up to you.” I give her a look, but she presses on. “The thing is, Kyle, now that you’re with Jax, you have to be with Jax.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Okay, it’s like this,” she says, brushing some stray hairs out of her face. “I’m dating Alex, and there’s this guy in my communications class who’s attractive. He just is, I can’t deny that. And one day he asked for my number, claiming it’s in case he has questions on one of our class projects. So I gave it to him. We spent a week chatting through messages, mostly about class stuff, occasional random banter here and there. Then I could tell that he was trying to get at something else. Something…more,” she says, pausing to make sure she still has my attention. “So I stopped. I would respond to his messages when I needed to, but they’d be short and direct. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea that I was flirting. Because I’m with Alex.”
I look at her, trying to line up the pieces of her story. “So,” I say, “you put my phone in the fridge because in this situation, I’m you, and Jax is Alex and…”
“Joey is the guy in my communication class.”
I shake my head. “But…no.” My thoughts refuse to give in to what I know Emily is trying to get me to see. “It’s not the same. Joey and I are friends. We’ve been friends since my first day here. We play on the same soccer team, for crying out loud. And she just started talking to me again.”
Emily shifts on the bed, then adjusts the bag, which had started to slide off my ankle. “That’s the thing, though, Kyle,” she says, still focusing on the frozen peas. “You and Joey were never just friends.”
“Sure we were,” I say. “We just…we’re just…”
“Complicated,” Emily finishes for me. I slump back against my pillows as rain begins to beat against my window. “I’m sorry, Kyle. But you’re not being fair to Joey.”
Once again, Emily’s right. “Okay.” I frown. “I guess that makes sense. I just didn’t see why Joey and I couldn’t still talk.”
Emily looks at me then. “I’ve seen those text messages you guys used to send. Y’all’s talking is like Alex’s and my foreplay.”
I laugh, blushing. Emily grins. “Fine.” I sigh. “So, what do I do? Just cut Joey off completely?”
“Yes,” Emily says without hesitation, surprising me with her authoritative tone. It’s amazing how easily she can shift from best friend to the older sister role in one move. “Well.” Her face softens. “Just for a little while. Give it three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” I ask, my ankle shooting pain upward.
“Yes, three weeks. No texting. No calls. You guys can make nice at practice, but no talking outside of soccer.”
“And if I see her at a party?”
Emily stands up then and pats my ankle, making me grimace. “Good thing you’re about to be bedridden for a few weeks.”
I lean back and groan.
“I know you, Kyle,” she says, grabbing her workout bag from off the floor and pulling it over her shoulder. “You’re a good person. But you can miss what’s right in front of your face sometimes. And if you really do care about them—Jax and Joey—you’ll do this to make things right.” She pauses, then adds, “One of them deserves your full attention. So you should give it to them.”
I glance up at her as she stands in my bedroom doorway. “You mean Jax deserves my full attention.”
Emily just smiles back at me. “Take some ibuprofen and try to rest. I’ll come back in the morning to check on you.”
Then she’s out of sight, and a few seconds later I hear my apartment door open and close. I throw one of my arms behind my head and stare at my mini-fridge, trying to ignore how much I want to write Joey back.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Bring it in, ladies!” The team jogs into the middle of the field, surrounding Coach Gandy in a huddle while I watch from the sideline. With a sigh, I reach for my crutches at the end of the bleachers. Carefully, I half hop, half fall onto the grass, landing with a thud on the sidel
ine before bracing myself with my metal companions. The team huddle is still in formation, so I throw my small workout bag over both of my shoulders and start off for the parking lot.
Over the last week and a half, I’ve missed one game against Aledo. Coach gave me two days of full bed rest after my injury—which turned out to be nothing more than a good, old-fashioned sprain. I was determined to be back out quickly to watch the drills and plays the team had to run through so that I wouldn’t be completely lost when I rejoined everyone next week.
As I walk, making sure to put the tiniest heel-toe pressure on my bum foot, a small ding sounds from inside my bag. I know it’s Jax sending me a message. She had to skip practice today thanks to a chemistry lab. When she and I met up for lunch earlier today, she told me she was going to check in on me after practice, to make sure I didn’t fall down a sewer or sprain my other ankle while getting from Emily’s car to the field. I conjure up the image of her concerned face while we shared some fries in the Student Union. And then my own face heats up at the memory of her comment after she kissed me good-bye.
“Good thing it isn’t your wrist that you sprained.” This, of course, was followed by her signature wink.
I have to admit, Jax was being unusually great when it came to my lack of mobility. She brought me coffee over the weekend and we hung out all day watching movies, rotating frozen veggies on my ankle every few hours. During the week, she made sure I had a ride to campus and then to my evening with the trainers for therapy. She even helped to carry my backpack on Tuesday during her free period.
“Anything for my girl,” she said, dropping me off in front of geology.
I glance over my shoulder, pausing at the ramp leading down into the parking lot. Emily gathers her stuff from the sideline and gives me a quick wave. After a deep breath, I start down the ramp.
Eventually I make it to Emily’s car and gingerly lean on the crutches against the passenger side. I let my body relax against the car for a moment. With my head back, I close my eyes, congratulating myself on another mini-journey completed.