CHAPTER TWENTY

The next morning I lie in bed late, and I don’t go to practice. Jaya picked up the keys last night, so it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. And by “picked up the keys,” I mean I put them in our mailbox so she could grab them without me having to see her. I know I can’t avoid my problems forever, but I can stretch it out as long as possible.

Eventually, when I’m sure my family is gone for the day, I go out on the back porch to eat some cereal and mindlessly scroll on socials for a bit. That’s when my phone screen does that shift that means a phone call is incoming. A split-second later the name lights up my screen and makes my stomach lurch: Coach Kay.

I answer it.

“How’s your morning, Hayley?” she asks.

“It’s OK. I . . . didn’t come to practice today.”

“I know. I’m in my office right now.”

“Oh.”

I hear the shuffle of papers. “Jaya texted me yesterday and let me know what happened, so I thought I’d come down and make sure things were OK. I was surprised you aren’t here.”

I push my foot against the wooden boards of the back steps. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m worried about you. I know how much you love this sport and our team; you’re one of the girls I count on to make it a welcoming atmosphere.”

Tears sting my eyes and I blink. Coach counts on me?

“I know you might feel less important because you’re JV,” Coach continues. “But JV is the cocoon where caterpillars can take their time to grow, if you’ll excuse the cheesy metaphor. That’s where I learn who’s got what skills and who needs what kind of nurturing to become the best player they can be. And I look for the team members who bring that out in others. Team members like you, Hayley.”

“Thanks,” I say, the word coming out way more tearful than I thought it would.

“What do you need, Hayley? I see your potential and I want to support you.”

I swallow hard, trying not to let the sobs break out. “I feel like I let you down,” I say. “Everyone thinks I’m a flake and hates me now.”

“I don’t believe that. They’re frustrated, sure, but that’s just because they count on you. You wanna know what some of the girls have said to me?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “They’ve said, ‘Hayley’s always so reliable, I don’t know what happened.’ ‘Hayley’s never late.’ ‘Hayley cares about the team; that’s why she started this practice group.’ ”

Tears are rolling down my cheeks now, and I swipe them away.

“They want you here; they’re just confused. And they’re worried we’re going to lose a great teammate.”

“I want to be on the team,” I whisper.

“I know you do. So how can I help you with that?”

“It’s just . . .” My voice is all wobbly now. I’ve never been emotional like this in front of Coach. “Keyholder is a big responsibility, and I wanted to do it—wanted to show I’m varsity material—but this summer has been really stressful, and it shouldn’t even matter because it’s just—”

I stop myself, the tears choking my words, which is probably good because I shouldn’t tell Coach anyway. Then she really will think I’m irresponsible.

“Deep breath,” Coach says, and we pause for a minute, taking breaths together over the phone. “I know you struggle with anxiety. But I want you to know that you don’t have to do that to prove you’re varsity material. Leadership qualities are important, but I don’t need a team of leaders. I need a team of girls who know what they bring to the court and how that fits in with the others. And you bring compassion, a community-building ethic—and an unmatched three-pointer.”

I laugh a little at that. “OK,” I say. It’s hard to believe I deserve all this praise, that Coach really sees it in me, but I’ve seen her when players talk back, so I’m not about to question her.

“I’ve decided that keyholder is too much pressure to place on one girl’s shoulders,” she says. “Jaya and Anh are going to be joint keyholders the rest of the summer so that they have backup, in case anything happens. And I just want you to show up and focus on bringing yourself to the court as a player, OK?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out. “I can do that.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow morning.”

We hang up and I shake out my limbs, letting all the shame and anxiety and dread out of my body. Knowing what Coach really thinks of me, knowing she noticed me before I ever formed this practice group, eases the knots in my stomach a little. I stand up and stretch, taking a deep breath of the fresh, earthy scent of the backyard. It rained during the night, and the air is cool but humid. My body wants to move. Maybe I’ll go for a run.

When I get home an hour or so later, my mind is clear and my legs are pleasantly rubbery. I gulp cold water in the kitchen, then run upstairs for a quick shower to cool down.

Afterward, I sit on my bed and stare at my phone. I ran a different route than usual today so I wouldn’t go past Talia’s, but it’s time to face my fears.

Kind of. I’m not going to tell them everything, but I am going to do what Sam suggested.

Hey, I text to the group chat. I’m sorry for leaving you all hanging. I had a really bad panic attack on Saturday. I got stressed out by the double date and the strategy, and I’ve just been avoiding everything ever since. I hope I didn’t worry anyone too much.

I wait, staring at the screen, heart pounding. A few minutes later, Kev texts a heart emoji. We love you, just glad you’re OK.

If you wanna talk about anything, we’re here for you, Jacob adds.

Suddenly the screen changes and a split second later my phone rings. It’s Bri. FaceTiming me. They never call me unprompted.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. Then I open them and answer the call.

“So what’s really going on?” Bri asks.

I pull back. “What do you mean?”

“Hayley.” They shake their head. I can see from their background that they’re sitting at their desk, probably drawing as usual. “I have to ask you a question.”

I look at them, and they gaze back, their eyebrows drawn together. I don’t know how to say no without sounding super suspicious. “What?”

“Do you have a crush on Talia?”

I open my mouth, grasping for words, but I can’t think of anything. As long as no one asked, I could hide it. Maybe not well, but I was doing OK. But now Bri’s asking me, and I can’t lie to their face. I can’t even tell a half-truth, not that I can think of one.

“How did you know?” I ask quietly. My hands are shaking all of a sudden, and I prop the phone on my nightstand.

Bri looks down, nodding, then looks at me again. Their round face is serious, skin glowing in the sunlight reflecting off their desk. “I just put it together. When we talked about Talia having a crush you didn’t know about, and then when you asked me not to tell her we talked about it, and then this . . .”

“I didn’t even know it when I talked to you!” My voice sounds strangled, caught between a sob and a laugh.

Bri smirks, shaking their head. “I mean, I wasn’t sure. But it seemed like the logical conclusion, and . . .” They spread their hands wide. “I was right.”

My chest is tight, my stomach churning. “Please don’t tell her.”

“Of course not.” Bri frowns. “You’re the one who needs to do that.”

“I can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“She has Rose.” Tears are in my eyes now, and I look away from Bri’s gentle, confused gaze. “I want her to be happy and it’ll be easier if I’m just . . .” I swallow. “Not around.”

“What do you mean?” Bri sits up straight.

I shrug.

“Hayley. Talia loves you. You can’t just dip out on her.”

“She won’t notice.”

Bri bursts out laughing. “Are you serious? Do you know what the last three days have been like? We’ve been talking every day. She cries on the phone because she’s scared for you and your mental health, and worried that she did something wrong. Sorry, but that half-ass text isn’t enough. You need to talk to her. You’ve been friends since you were literal babies. She deserves the truth.”

The force of Bri’s words has me a little stunned. If Bri saw through me, does everyone else think the same thing? I can’t even argue, though, because they’re right. My text was half-assed at best.

“But what’s the point?” I eventually say. “She doesn’t like me back. Telling her is just going to make things more awkward.”

Bri lifts an eyebrow. “Do you know how many times me and Kev and Jacob have wondered when you two are going to get together?”

“What?!”

“Yeah!” Bri throws their hands up. “Maybe she’s just as oblivious to her feelings as you were, but I’d be very surprised if she rejects you.”

My mind is racing. This whole time our friends have been waiting for us to date? As if it’s a sure thing? Bri sounds so certain. “But Rose . . .”

“Fuck Rose!” Bri says impatiently. My jaw drops. Bri almost never curses, and they quickly press their hand against their mouth. “What I mean is . . . I’m sure Rose is nice, but they’re not you. And Talia hasn’t said a word about them this whole time. She’s been talking about you. You need to tell her.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I need to think about this.”

“OK,” Bri says. “But I’m not going to let you mess up your friendship. Or our whole group dynamic.”

“Ouch.” I wrinkle my nose.

“I’m sorry.” Bri takes a deep breath. “Am I coming on too strong?”

“No. I . . .” I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself. “You’re good. It’s just . . . it’s all been a lot.”

They grimace. “I know. I’m just . . . I’m worried about you, too.” Their voice cracks.

“You are?”

“Hayley.” They look at me, eyes serious. “We all love you. Like, so much. I want you to be happy, and I want Talia to be happy, and . . . I really think you could be happy together.”

I wipe my eyes. Somehow my face is all wet. Have I been crying this whole time?

“I love you guys, too,” I whisper.

“And I’m here for you,” Bri says. “We all are. Whatever you need. You don’t have to shut us out. Or Talia. It’s like you told me: the door’s open; you just need to walk through it. The door may not be open in the way you want, but it’s definitely not closed yet.”

I pull up the neckline of my shirt and dry off my face. “Way to use my own words against me. Again.”

They snicker. “It’s not my fault you give good advice.”

I can’t help but smile. “OK. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll take that.” They gaze at me. “You gonna be all right?”

I nod, even though I’m not at all sure if that’s true, and then we hang up.

It takes me a long time to fall asleep that night. I can’t stop thinking about what Bri said and playing out different scenarios in my head about how to tell Talia my feelings. When I finally do drift off, I’m in and out of fuzzy dreams all night and wake up with anxiety buzzing in my chest.

The anxiety gets worse on my bus ride to practice. As I walk up toward the gym, I see my teammates filtering in, and I have to stop under a tree at the far edge of the field to steady myself. Pulling out my water bottle, I take a long drink of water, the melting ice cubes clinking inside.

I take a deep breath. The air is fresh and mildly sweet, and the sky is perfectly clear and sunny.

I can do this.

I step out from under the shade of the branches and head toward the gym again. At the door, I pause for a minute, then pull it open and walk inside.

Sneakers screech on the floor as girls dribble and drive into the basket to shoot in turns. Everyone’s warming up, so no one notices me come in. Pop music blasts from the speakers. I set my bag down on the sidelines and do some jumping jacks, as much to shake off my anxiety as to loosen my muscles.

“Hayley!” I turn and see Mariah heading toward me with a big grin on her face. “You’re back.”

“I’m back,” I say, striking a pose way more confident than I feel inside.

“How are you?” she asks, and I know what she’s really asking.

I lower my arms. “I’m . . . OK. Still stressed about stuff.”

“Your crush?”

I nod.

“Girl, who is it?”

“It’s . . .” I hesitate, but it’s not like Mariah is friends with my friends. “Talia.”

Her eyes widen. “Your bestie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh shit.” She laughs. “Well, I get why you’ve been so caught up in it.” Then her eyes soften. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you’re back. It’s not the same without you. You wanna warm up with me?”

I nod and follow her out onto the court, catching the ball she tosses to me. We take turns going for layups and rebounding each other’s shot. A couple girls glance at me and whisper to each other. My shoulders stiffen, and I miss a three-pointer I’d usually make. I can feel eyes on me and part of me wants to run out of the gym, but I don’t.

I pass the ball to Mariah, then guard her all the way to the hoop. She makes her shot, and I collect the ball. And when Jaya and Sherika call the girls to center court, I stand in the back, focusing on my breathing and their words as they lay out the plan for the morning. People are obviously still annoyed at me. It’s fine, though. I can handle this.

I can.

I think.