Rebound

by Sophia Summers

  Rocco thought over what she’d said. This was a big deal to her. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do? Do your parents know?”

  “No one knows. Just you.”

  He nodded. “Congratulations. I am really happy for you. That’s an honor. I’m assuming not everyone gets this offer.”

  “Thank you. It’s super competitive. I didn’t think there was the smallest chance I’d get it, which is why I didn’t say anything before.”

  “So, you said it was for a year?” He couldn’t wrap his head around the sadness that was clamping down on his beating heart. Each thump felt painfully strained all of a sudden.

  “Yeah. Sorry I brought it up. Let’s talk about it later, okay? Just pretend I didn’t tell you yet.”

  “Hey, no, this is good news, right? I don’t want to sound as sad as I feel inside.” He laughed. “I mean, I am thrilled for you. Really. If this is important to you and you want it, I’m so happy…” But he choked on the rest of the sentence—he wasn’t happy at all. And if that made him a jerk of a boyfriend, so be it.

  “Come visit me?” Her weak smile put him on edge.

  “You’ve already decided?”

  Her eyes shot open wider. “Well, no, not yet, but it’s kind of a big deal.”

  He nodded. And nothing that had been amazing a few moments ago seemed half as great anymore.

  The rest of their drive was filled with small talk, the kind that wore Rocco out faster than a hard day of practice. By the time they finally stepped out of the car, Rocco was relieved that the entire family was waiting for them.

  As soon as their group entered, every eye turned to them.

  Were they so different-looking that they drew that much attention all at once?

  Maybe. His family wore mostly black. Leather jackets. His dad’s hair was greased back, and he wore dress shoes without socks. Things Rocco had never given two thoughts to before. But here in the Bar J, they were like the outsiders on a movie set. There were lots of families, lots of sweatshirts and flannel. And plenty of boots. Rocco shrugged.

  Mr. Davis led them to the very front table. And even though the restaurant was totally different than anything he’d ever been to before, even though the entertainment was actually really good, Rocco couldn’t settle in and enjoy it.

  Summer was leaving?

  Every now and then, she turned worried eyes to him, but he didn’t know how to respond. He could reassure her, but he would never say, “It’s okay.” Because it wasn’t.

  But he couldn’t ask her to stay. What creep did that? She had to go get her dream.

  In the middle of one of the loud fiddle songs, he leaned close. “When does it start?”

  “Next fall.”

  He nodded and looked away. A lot could happen from January to fall. But she would be accepting the offer long before then, he assumed. Did he want to fall harder for this woman who would be leaving for a whole year? She’d be surrounded by her people, by the smart people she’d been looking for for her whole life. She’d get scooped up by some scholar before she came back, and Rocco would be left with nothing but a broken heart.

  He stood and smiled away Summer’s concerned expression. He needed some air. And a good dose of the Pit. He was starting to sound like a putz. Even to himself.

  They were pretty quiet. No texts had come in for several hours. But he knew what would get them. I’m in love, and I don’t know what to do.

  Wait, who is this? Oh right, the Italian. Anybody surprised Rocco is in love?

  Rocco shook his head. No, dude. It’s Summer.

  They razzed him for a solid two minutes until Trane posted a gif of a guy with a stop sign.

  I think our pebble has something to say.

  Rocco nodded to himself. Thank you. She’s leaving. Got offered a fellowship in Prague. It looks like she wants to take it, and all I can think about is how that sucks for me. I feel like a doormat.

  You gotta give her a reason to stay.

  Not just one.

  Shower her with reasons. Turn on the Italian charm.

  Does anyone know if the pebble has any charm?

  Not that I’ve ever seen.

  Hey, you already checked her on the ice. That seemed to work for you.

  Ha ha, Zane.

  No really. She’s cool. She’s into you. Give her a reason to stay.

  Is that fair? Rocco wondered the answer to this question most of all. What if this thing is good for her?

  What if you’re good for her?

  And hey, if she leaves, what will your fans say?

  I don’t think they’ll care…

  Oh yes, they will.

  Then his phone filled up with images of him and Summer dancing at the gala, up on the jumbotron. And one of him meeting her at the airport.

  Wait, where did you get these?

  Does no one in Wyoming use social media?

  I guess not.

  Rocco felt his irritation rising. Were these posted online?

  They were posted everywhere, dude. You were trending for a hot second.

  Rocco pocketed his phone. He was in no mood to be trending. What he needed now was a long drive, alone, to blow off steam.

  As soon as he walked back into the mess hall, flashes burst in his face, and three men with cameras raced away.

  He blinked the large purple spots away and squinted, but he couldn’t see where they’d gone. So. Not. Cool.

  Summer turned to look and then stood to move to the back near him. “You okay?”

  “Not really.”

  The music stopped, and the lead singer called out, “I just learned we have a celebrity among us.”

  Rocco’s anger simmered hotter when the guy’s finger pointed to the back of the room.

  “The president of the Steers fan club himself let me know we have one of their players here with us tonight. Folks, give it up for Rocco De Luca.”

  Every head turned.

  He raised his hand and smiled at everyone. Then he opened the door and stepped out without another word.

  Summer chased after him, and he wished she’d just go back in with her family.

  Bright lights flashed in his face again. “Give us a kiss for the press.”

  If Rocco wasn’t newly blinded in the dark night, he might have shown those guys what he thought of their cameras. But he was still blinking away the new set of blind spots.

  A crashing sound surprised him. And then Summer’s voice. “What do you think you’re doing? Have you never heard of protecting our own? He’s a local, you idiot.” She ripped the other camera out of the man’s hand. “Now get out of here. And don’t let me see any of those pictures showing up anywhere.”

  They collected their cameras and turned away, but not as quickly as Rocco would like. Their faces were menacing, and Rocco tugged Summer back to stand next to him until they were out of sight.

  “Wow, that was something.” He eyed her with a new respect. “Should I be afraid of you?”

  She turned from him. “Let’s just go.”

  Rocco still wasn’t sure he’d be decent company, but he followed her back to the car.

  They didn’t say much on the way home, and when he dropped her off, his kiss was quick.

  She jumped out of the car and ran to the door. And Rocco watched it all from his seat, even though his ma would give him a piece or two of her mind, and her spoon—a sharp whack on his shoulder—for not walking Summer to the door. He’d had too many disappointments for one night.

  Summer’s father had overstepped. Why would he want the whole place talking about him? The man was out of control with his fan club if he couldn’t just have an evening with friends.

  Rocco pulled out his phone and did a couple searches.

  Sure enough, the fan club had been posting things all along. They had been small with almost no following. But as soon as the pundits had picked up on a possible love story with a hometown girl, Mr. Davis’s articles started getting attention.

  And Sum
mer and Rocco had become other people’s gossip, fueled by her father.

  Rocco knew he shouldn’t be too mad at her dad, but he was furious.

  His phone buzzed. But he ignored the Pit as he drove back to his townhome. He planned to leave a day early. Leaving town felt nice for once. He needed to think things through.

  22

  Summer hadn’t heard from Rocco for two days when she decided to write NYU back and accept her fellowship. She told herself she was happy about it.

  And she was. Mostly.

  She knew she should be, anyway.

  Then she told her family. And her dad flipped. “How can you do that? With things going so well with Rocco.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You guys have chemistry. Anyone can see you’re in love. They’re following your relationship.”

  “What do you mean?” He better not be saying what she thought he was saying.

  “They love it. You beating him in the contest, sharing your first date with the family, the ice dancing. It’s the stuff of romance novels, I’m telling you. The fan club has never been so popular.”

  Summer sucked in her breath. “Dad.”

  “It’s amazing. We’re getting donations, and people are into the team. We’re filling seats. You’re doing a great work here, Summer. You can’t leave now.”

  “Dad, you can’t be sharing our personal lives like that.”

  “What? It’s not personal. He’s a public guy, Summer. This is normal for him.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not, Dad. He hasn’t called for days. Probably because he’s so ticked about this.”

  At least, that’s what she hoped was causing his silence. She hoped he wasn’t mad that she’d applied for the fellowship. Though she knew he wasn’t too happy about it.

  “Anyway, we’re not going anywhere fast, Dad. And I know you mean well, but your stuff is ruining things with Rocco.”

  “That’s ridiculous. He’s fine.”

  “He’s not fine!” But when her dad wouldn’t believe her, she shrugged. What did it matter? She was leaving. Things were better this way. Maybe she’d just stay in Prague. For a while.

  “You can fix this, Summer. Fly out and see one of his games. Tell him how you feel. Tell him you don’t want to go to Prague.”

  “But I do want to go.”

  Her mother put an arm around her. “You’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time.”

  She nodded. “I have. It’s really competitive. They only give away two.”

  “That’s wonderful. We should celebrate!” At least, Summer’s mother still remembered she was a parent.

  “Dad, you have to leave Rocco’s personal life off your fan club site.”

  He looked like he might be stubborn about it, but then he softened. “Sure thing. But, honey, don’t mess this up. Not every girl gets to date a pro hockey player.”

  She turned from him, keeping her breath measured. How could he even think that way? Wasn’t he supposed to think that any man would be lucky to have her? She didn’t totally believe his overly innocent expression, but she hoped he would at least not be so obvious and obnoxious about Rocco’s fame.

  She sighed and made her way to her bedroom. She picked up her phone, which she’d relegated to her side table because she kept looking at it so much. With shaking hands, she saw that he had not called or texted.

  You okay?

  As soon as she typed the words, she regretted them. Of course, he was okay. He probably hadn’t given her a second’s thought. He was busy. He was playing hockey. And he’d been angry when he left. She could tell.

  Should she tell him she’d accepted the fellowship? Or should she just let the silence continue?

  But then her phone dinged.

  Not really. You?

  Miss you.

  The three dots that meant he was responding lasted a long time and then went away. She almost gave up on getting a response, but then her phone dinged again. Miss you too.

  And that was it. He didn’t say anything else.

  She told herself she should be glad. Distancing themselves before things could get too serious was a good thing—it would make leaving easier.

  But she didn’t want leaving home to be easy. How sad would it be if, when she left, there was no one to miss? No one to miss her back? She curled up on her bed and hugged her knees. Missing him felt like a great hole that grew and sank inside her, pulling everything into the darkness with it like a great vacuum.

  She hadn’t counted on that.

  The next day, Mr. De Luca showed up at the library.

  They called her to the front desk when he got there. “Oh, hi, Mr. De Luca.” Her heart ached at how much he looked like Rocco.

  “Hey there, Summer. Can we go outside to talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.” A nervous worry rose up inside her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh yeah, of course!” He held the door open for her. And then he led her to a bench over to the side of the library. The cold January wind whipped past them. He turned to her. “I won’t keep you. It’s cold out here. I’m sorry.”

  “Sure.” She waited.

  He looked off into the sky for a minute, and she almost suggested they go back inside when he turned back. “You seem like a real nice girl.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Even though you aren’t Catholic or Italian.”

  “Thank you?”

  “But the fact is you aren’t Catholic or Italian. And that’s important to our family.”

  She didn’t know quite what to say. “You—you’re telling me you don’t approve?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. I don’t approve. Our Rocco, he can do what he wants, of course. He’s got his own life, makes his own choices. But his mama and I, we want to see our boy married in St. Patrick’s in New York. It’s where all the De Lucas have been married. And our sons will do the same.”

  Summer nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry too much about it, because I’m heading to Prague for a fellowship.” She didn’t know why she had to tell him. Was it because she wanted him to know he wasn’t rejecting her? She was rejecting him? Whatever the reason, the pleased glint in his eyes ruined the moment for her.

  She turned from him without another word and went back inside. And she vowed never to talk to another De Luca again. She was better off without those people.

  When she got home, she went straight to her room and pulled out her laptop. Was there a way she could start her fellowship early? Her email opened, and she clicked to reply to the fellowship offer.

  She could make herself free as early as April if they needed.

  As she thought about Mr. De Luca’s expression, his calculating effort to explain things in the most palatable way, her anger rose inside. And then thinking about Rocco and his irritation with the media hype around them, she became more annoyed. What did he think would happen? He was pretty obvious about his preference for her at the all-star game and any other time they’d been together in public. Did he think people would pretend not to notice?

  She needed some space, a place where she wouldn’t have to worry about a broken heart. She needed to get going on the fellowship.

  Thoughts she repeated to herself while she stared up at the ceiling did nothing to help her sleep. Instead, she became more and more frustrated until she threw off the covers and sat at her desk.

  She opened up her laptop and pulled up flights to Boston. Rocco was playing a week full of games there.

  She decided to take her quarterly visit to another university’s libraries at Boston College. She booked herself a seat on the next flight out.

  Then she crawled back into bed and fell right to sleep.

  23

  Rocco circled the rink in a daze. He’d played terribly last night, and the coach had laid into him with a vengeance. He’d kept going until Rocco finally stood up. “Okay. I got it.”

  The coach had backed off, but Rocco was not feeling a
ny better now than he had at the start of the last game. He couldn’t focus. And he knew what was wrong. But he refused to give space in himself to a player who couldn’t leave all that personal distraction in the locker room. Everyone knew you didn’t take that kind of stuff out on the ice with you. But Rocco still couldn’t shake his emotions.

  Crandall skated up beside him. “Wanna share what’s bothering you?”

  His fellow wing was a good guy, but Rocco didn’t have a lot of patience for his questions. “What are you, my shrink?”

  “Never. But you’re messing with my game now, too. What’s wrong in your head?”

  Fine. If he wanted to hear the mess, here it was. “She’s leaving, going all the way to Prague. Her dad is a crazy fan, and I can’t decide what to feel about him sharing information with the press. Am I mad at her family? Do I resent that she’s leaving, or am I totally hurt she would actually go? Or am I mad she didn’t tell me she applied in the first place?” He looked at Crandall like he would have the answers and then shook his head. “Whatever, man. I’ll be fine.”

  “Embrace it. Use the emotion. Use the force, Luke.”

  “That’s not even funny.”

  “I’m serious. You’re an emotional player, Rocco. Use it.”

  “I might want to pound someone.”

  “Great.”

  “And wipe that smug goalie smile off Tractor’s face.”

  “Great again.”

  Rocco clapped Crandall on the top of his helmet. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.”

  Rocco took it all out on the ice with him. With every slide of his skates, he felt it all. Summer. She was incredible. He didn’t know her as well as he would like, but man, he wanted to. Why couldn’t they just have a relationship? Because she was leaving, that’s why. He slammed a defender up against the glass, ignoring the mouthful of profanity.