by Sarah Nego
I laid on my back, all pretense of stretching completely abandoned. “So, how worried should I be?”
Sam stood up, motioned for me to lift my legs, and then pushed them back toward me so we could at least look like we were trying to stretch. “I think you’ll be fine. Keep your distance from her and wipe that guilty look off your face, or she’ll think you slept with him.”
Panic spread up through my body coupled with a burning heat at the memory of Ryan’s hands on my body. A few more minutes in that river and who knows what would have happened.
“Jesus, freshman, tell me you didn’t sleep with him,” Avery whisper-shouted at me.
“No, god no.” I pulled my legs away from Sam and sat up. “But—”
“Nope.” Avery held her hand out to silence my next words. “Whatever happened, I don’t want to hear about it. And you should forget about it.”
How the hell was I supposed to forget about the way Ryan kissed me so hard it shut out the constant litany of tasks to complete that lived in the back of my head? How could I erase how he made me feel like I wasn’t about to fall off the tightrope that stretched over the next four years of my life?
Avery threw a handful of grass at my head. “That look right there is the one that’s gonna get you murdered in your sleep.”
“Oh, somebody has a seriously juicy story to tell.” Sam winked at me and waggled her eyebrows.
Avery gave both of us a scathing look. “Not if she wants to live to see sophomore year.”
“Circle up.” Coach waved everyone over to where he was waiting by the benches. Thank god this wasn’t a captain’s practice. Vanessa might be the worst, but she could only do so much to me with Coach there.
Sam and I turned to join the others, but Avery grabbed my arm and held me back.
“I know that look. I’ve seen it a million times. I’ve even worn it myself.” She gave me a sad half smile. “Ryan is a good guy, but don’t forget that Vanessa is not.”
She turned to join the others, leaving me standing on the outside of the group wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t have time to think about it. With our first game coming up on Friday, I needed to focus on what was keeping me enrolled, and that definitely didn’t include kissing hot guys.
I joined the rest of the team as the coach started his spiel. “Friday is our season opener against ASU. This is a big one. Most of you remember that ASU came close to beating us at the conference championship last year. We need to send a clear message at the game that we plan to defend our title. I want you girls to work hard this week, but pay attention to your bodies. We can’t afford for anyone to work themselves into an injury right before the season starts.
“All right. Leanne and Luci, I want you both in the goals so we can run some two-on-three drills on both ends of the field. Everybody move it.”
He clapped, and the team dispersed. I jogged over to my bag to grab my gloves while Coach handed out red practice pinnies to the defense players.
I strapped on my gloves and headed toward the open goal, my mind focused on showing Coach Taylor what I could do. My brain was so focused that I didn’t notice Vanessa until she was right in front of me, blocking my path. I stuttered to a stop seconds before running into her.
“You need to watch where you’re going, freshman.” Her words bit out at me like a cobra striking at its prey.
I bit my tongue to hold back the snotty response I wanted to give her. She needed someone to put her in her place, but that someone definitely wasn’t me. “Sorry.” I tried to move around her, but Vanessa took a step to the side, blocking my way.
“I thought I made the team rules abundantly clear, but apparently you didn’t get the memo.” She sneered down at me, and I focused on keeping my face expressionless so I wouldn’t stoke the fire of her anger. “Maybe you should ask Katee Grayson what happens when you break the rules. But you can’t, because she isn’t on the team anymore.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t bother denying it,” she fired at me. "I heard from more than one person that you were at a party with Ryan VanKamp on Friday.”
“I wasn’t with him.” I rushed out the words before she could stop me. “I didn’t even know he was going to be there.”
“And that’s why the two of you spent all night together?” She glared at me, her blue eyes like emotionless ice crystals. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out because I wasn’t there? I heard all about the two of you sitting in rocking chairs talking like an old married couple. Were you picturing the two of you sitting on a porch together, holding hands, and being in love?”
“No,” I practically shouted, but it was a lie. Ryan and I had spent hours sitting on the roof, rocking softly and talking about everything. And I’d let my imagination wonder what it would be like if we weren’t forbidden to see each other. I pictured the two of us sitting in chairs side by side, holding hands, and growing old together. Just because falling in love wasn’t part of my planned college experience didn’t mean I never thought about it.
Vanessa must have seen the lie because her jaw tightened and her eyes grew even angrier. “I can make your life a living hell on this team, and you can absolutely be replaced. Stay away from Ryan VanKamp.”
She bumped her shoulder into mine and used her elbow to shove me out of the way. I tried to step back to avoid her, but my foot stuck in a divot in the field. My ankle twisted, and I went down hard, my butt smacking into the packed dirt.
Pain flared from my ankle down through my foot and up my leg toward my knee. I ran my fingers around my ankle as if I’d know if I’d done serious damage to my newly healed bones. Nothing felt out of place, but the area around my ankle was already swelling.
Sam rushed over to me, her hand warm on my shoulder. “That bitch,” she hissed under her breath. “I saw the whole thing. Are you okay?”
I sucked in air through my nose and ignored the throbbing pain in my ankle. “I probably twisted it, but I’ll be fine.”
Sam offered me a hand. “If you’re hurt, you should go see the trainer and—”
“No way.” I grabbed her hand and used her counterweight to stand up. “If I leave practice now, then Vanessa wins. She’s already controlling the whole team’s social life. I’m not going to let her force me out of practice.”
“But Luci—”
“I’m fine.” I tested putting weight on my injured ankle and resisted the urge to hiss out in pain. “See? It’s nothing.”
Sam scrunched her face in disbelief but didn’t push me any further. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d played hurt, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Injuries and pain were part of the territory for an athlete. Still, I hadn’t banked on some of that pain lodging in my chest.
Thirteen
Ryan
Tuesday
I trudged into the lecture hall and slumped into a creaking chair, dreading every second of the next fifty minutes learning a language I was never going to use. But there was one bright spot to Tuesday morning Spanish class. I glanced toward the door just in time to watch her limp in.
Fuck. Why was she limping? Did she hurt herself when she rushed out of the river? I hadn’t gone after her because I got the impression she wanted to be as far away from me as she could get. I would have tried to call her, but I didn’t have her number. We’d jumped right past exchanging digits into a hot-and-heavy make-out session that had fueled my fantasies for the rest of the weekend.
I rushed out of my seat down to where she was starting to make her way up the stairs. Grabbing her backpack, I snaked an arm under hers to take some of the weight off her leg.
“What are you doing?” she hissed out, trying to pull away from me.
“Why are you limping?” I shot right back.
She let out a low groan and didn’t fight me as I led her to the desk next to mine. Luci felt tiny in my arms, even though I was only a few inches taller than her. My gut hurt at the idea that I might be responsible for her pai
n. She slid into the seat, and I felt the loss of her body pressed against mine.
“My bag.” She held out her arms, and I set her backpack on her desk.
I watched her pull out her book and folder as I made my way to my own desk. She slid the bag to the floor and rested her foot on top of it. That wasn’t enough elevation.
“You need to get that higher.” I bent down under her desk and lifted her foot up as gently as I could. The seat in front of her was usually empty so I set her bag down on the chair and eased her foot on top.
When I looked to her, she was staring at me, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide.
“Thank you.”
Her voice was soft, almost as if she were in awe of my simple gesture. It burned my gut that she would see such a small act as a big deal. Someone like Luci deserved to be cared for.
“How did you hurt your ankle?” I kept my voice soft. Something about the way Luci’s face held an extra note of sadness told me I needed to be soft.
“It’s not a big deal.” She turned away from me and opened her book.
“The way you hissed when I touched it seemed like a big deal.” I stared at her, but she dropped her eyes to the random page in her book as if conjugating Spanish verbs was the answer to life.
“I fell in practice and twisted it. I’ll be fine.”
A sigh of relief floated out of my gut. She didn’t get hurt on Friday. Her injury wasn’t from running away from me after her lips heated my body and woke up every inch of me.
“Did you see the trainer?”
“I told you it’s not a big deal.” She flipped the page, keeping her eyes focused on the book. “I hurt it in the spring, so it probably seems worse than it is.”
“Um, no, I don’t think so.” Why was she being so stubborn about this? “An old injury is exactly why you should see a trainer.”
“Our first game is Friday, and I don’t want to miss practice, okay? Just drop it.” She slammed her book shut and turned away from me as much as she could.
“Luci?” I reached toward her but pulled back before my hand touched what I knew would be the silky soft skin of her arm. My fingers tingled with the memory of touching her a few days ago, the warm water flowing between us.
I shook my head to dislodge the memory. Spanish class wasn’t the time to be thinking about an almost naked Luci. “Joe’s the head trainer, and he’s amazing at what he does. Last year I sprained my ankle and could barely walk on it. He hooked me up with a wrap and an air cast, and I was back at practice the next day. Will you please go see him after class?”
Luci let out a sigh and glanced over at me, her eyes barely meeting mine for a half second. But that was enough to send an arc of desire shooting through me.
“If I promise to go, will you stop bugging me about it?”
I held up my hand like a man swearing in at court. “I promise.”
“Fine. I’ll go.” She shifted in her seat but kept her eyes facing forward. “Now, let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“Perfect.” I turned sideways in my desk and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees. “Let’s talk about last Friday night.”
Luci’s body tensed, and a delicate blush rose up her neck. I wanted so badly to lean a little closer and plant a kiss right behind her ear where that pink disappeared into her hair.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, I disagree completely.” I scooted to the edge of my seat so my face was less than a foot from hers. “I think we should definitely talk about our steamy, naked make-out session.”
Luci’s head spun toward me, her eyes wide. “Jesus! Keep your voice down.”
I chuckled, glad to get any kind of reaction from her. “What’s the matter? Afraid someone will hear about how you practically attacked me with your lips?” Unable to resist, I ran a single finger down the bare skin of her arm.
Luci closed her eyes, and her body released a tiny shiver as goosebumps erupted on her creamy skin. It only lasted a second before she pulled her arm away and shot daggers at me with her eyes.
“First of all,” she whispered heatedly, “I didn’t attack anyone. You’re the one that … well, you know what you did.”
I knew exactly what I did, and every part of me wanted to do it again.
“Second, yes, I’m afraid someone will hear about it. Like your crazy ex-girlfriend.”
Luci might as well have dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.
“You may have gotten rid of her, but the rest of us have to deal with the fallout. She already heard through the rumor mill that we were hanging out at the party. If she had any idea that we…”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew exactly what would happen if Vanessa caught wind of what went down in Dove River. And I wouldn’t be the one paying the price.
Professor Ramirez rushed into the room, his briefcase banging against his leg. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s jump right into it. Today we’re going to go over asking for directions.”
I glanced over at Luci. Her notebook was open, pen poised and ready to write down every word Professor Ramirez said. She crinkled her nose and then scratched it with the end of her pen. A totally normal thing to do, but everything Luci did was either adorable or sexy as hell. Sometimes both.
Too bad that day’s lesson wasn’t about asking for directions in life, because when it came to Luci, I had no idea which way to go.
Fourteen
Luci
Tuesday
Spanish
European History
Trainer
Practice
Outline history chapters 4-6
Read chapter 3 for art
I opened the doors to the training room and was instantly met with the smell of Bengay and sweaty socks. A charming combination that did nothing to increase my desire to be there. Every part of me wanted to head back to the lunch I cut short, but Ryan was right.
Pretending I didn’t hurt my ankle wasn’t going to make it magically heal. And if I wanted a shot at playing on Friday, even if it was a teeny tiny one, then I couldn’t afford to mess around and injure myself even more.
The main treatment room was empty, though it felt crowded. Three large exam tables filled the middle of the small space, and the walls were all packed with cabinets and shelves full of bandages, ointments, and who knew what else. A small half-wall separated part of the room, and on the other side were three metal tubs. They were empty, but I had to imagine they were for ice or heat baths.
This place was a lot nicer than the trainer’s room at my high school, but it had a used feel to it. Not run-down, but not exactly kept up either.
“Can I help you?” A tall guy who looked to be in his late twenties stuck his head out from a back office. His brunette hair flopped down over his eyes, and he blew it out of the way.
“I’m looking for Joe.” Ryan swore the head trainer would be able to get me back on the field, so I wasn’t willing to let anyone else touch my ankle.
“You found him,” he said, walking out of the office, a wide smile stretch across his face. “And you are…”
“I’m Luci Ryder, new goalie for the women’s soccer team.”
“Right, Coach Taylor told me he had a new keeper, but I haven’t been able to stop by a practice yet. The football team has been plagued with injuries, and they’re keeping me pretty busy. But you didn’t come here to check up on the football team. Or did you?” His voice took on a mocking tone.
I was instantly at ease. “Not this time. I’m actually here because I think I might have sprained my ankle at practice yesterday.”
Joe instantly switched into serious mode. His back straightened, and his lips thinned into a slight frown. “Yesterday? And why didn’t you come in then? We always have trainers on standby during practices.” He patted one of the exam tables. “Up here.”
I dropped my bag on the floor and lifted myself onto the table, trying to keep as much weight as I could off my right leg.
Joe
went right to work, prodding and massaging my ankle. He was silent while he worked, which gave my brain time it didn’t need. Time to relive Ryan helping me before in class. Acting as a crutch so I could make it up the stairs and then moving the desks around so I could keep my leg elevated. Who did that? Ryan VanKamp apparently.
“Have you hurt this ankle before?” Joe’s question cut through my thoughts of Ryan, and it took a second to remember where I was.
“Last spring. I broke it.” Along with my heart, but that was irrelevant.
Joe frowned down at the offending joint. “How?”
“Car accident.” Caused by Matt, my jerk of an ex who thought I was supposed to be his life accessory. Again, irrelevant. “It was a clean break and had healed completely before I came here. My doctor back home gave me a clear bill to play.”
Joe nodded and felt around my back tendon. His light squeeze sent a jolt of pain up my leg, and I let out a little yelp. “Well, the good news is that you definitely didn’t break it, and I don’t think you sprained it either. Feels more like a strained muscle.”
“Can I still practice?”
Joe shrugged. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to take it easy today. Keep off your feet unless you’re going to class or to eat. When you’re sitting down, keep it elevated. Lots of ice. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off.”
He walked over to one of the shelves and grabbed a small white bottle. He shook it at me before handing it over. “It’s ibuprofen. Take one every six hours to help with the pain and swelling.”
“Yes,” I rushed out. “I’ll do all of that. But can I practice?”
Joe let out a sigh. “You really should give it a day off.”
I pouted my lips and batted my eyes, giving him my very best take-pity-on-me look.
“But I know telling an athlete to sit out is like asking Iron Man to stop being an obnoxious genius.”
I let out a snort laugh and then quickly covered my mouth with my hand.