Page 130 of Play For Me

“You’ve got this,” Cade says, nudging my shoulder as I walk with the Littles toward the athletic complex. “You already beat this team this season.”

“Didn’t you score against them twice?” Vega asks.

I did score against them twice in that game. But that was before. Before I had my ACL scare. Before I had to spend the last three weeks of the season on the bench.

Before everything that happened with Solomon.

We’re not thinking about that today,I tell myself. It’s the first game of the conference tournament. Winning the conference automatically sends us to the NCAA tournament and the chance to win the College Cup. This is what the team has been working toward all season.

So why the fuck can’t I get my head straight?

“You wanna talk about it?” Violet asks, eyeing me warily.

I shrug. “Not much to say. Just need to get in the zone.”

I can tell she isn’t buying it. None of them are. They can read my disquiet a mile away. It’s the whole reason they all offered to walk me to the game. They can tell my head is a mess.

“Maybe if you talk to him,” Vega starts, but I glare at her.

“This isn’t about Solomon,” I snap.

Of course it’s about Solomon. The last two and a half weeks have been awful. I miss him more than I ever thought possible. How did I let him get so completely enmeshed in my life in such a short amount of time? Nothing feels the same without him—not training, or sleeping alone in bed, or eating lunch in the commons or even watching TV. I pick up my phone at least a dozen times a day to tell him something before remembering that we’re not doing that anymore.

And underneath all my heartbreak is a consistent worried ache because I don’t know how he’s doing. Has he seen his parents again? Has he been isolating himself? Does he still feel as awful as he clearly did that day his dad came to his apartment?

Has he been to the ranch? Did it help, riding his horses?

Jay approached me a few days after the run-in with Sol’s dad and told me that Sol was okay, and to try to give him time. Sitting back and being patient has never been my strong suit, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t force him to take my support any more than I could force him not to leave me.

The first week was the worst. Every time I saw him on campus or at the soccer facility, he still had that blank look on his face, the one that told me he wasn’t really there. The second week, it seemed a little better. I saw him laughing with the other student trainers at practice, and the relief that went through me was so strong my knees went weak. Another time I saw him sitting with Em and Jay at lunch, the three of them talking, and his expression almost seemed normal.

But he hasn’t talked to me. Not a single time. I’ve noticed him watching me during practice or weight training sessions, but he always turns his head before our eyes can meet.

“Ceece?” Vi says softly, and I realize I’ve been lost in thoughts of Sol for who knows how long. I try to force a smile, but her worried expression remains unchanged.

“I’m just nervous for the game,” I tell her.

None of them point out that I’ve never been nervous for a soccer game ever in my life, but I can tell they’re thinking it.

We stop at the doors to the complex, the four of them surrounding me. “It’s just going to be us, your parents, and your brothers,” Vega tells me. “We figured you didn’t need the whole family your first game back.”

“Thanks,” I say, genuinely relieved. The last thing I want is more concerned eyes on me while I’m playing for the first time since my injury scare.

Cade grips my shoulder. “Go kick ass.”

“Be the little menace we know and love,” Vega agrees, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.

Ash tugs on the end of my braid, giving me a steady look, before Vi moves in for a hug.

“Just try to get out of your head and have fun,” she says in my ear. “You always play your best when you’re having fun.”

It’s silly to feel emotional, so I swallow hard and give them the most confident smile I can manage. “See you guys after.”

I feel a little better once I get into the locker room. The vibe is excited and there are lots of welcoming cheers when I walk in. “I’m so glad you’re back,” Helen says, punching me on the shoulder. “We missed you out there.”

“Not as much as I missed playing,” I tell her.

I try not to look for Solomon, as much as my eyes want to seek him out. Instead, I focus on my pre-game routine. Hydration, stretching, talking to the girls while someone blastsmusic. I need to keep things loose, keep the pressure low as much as I can.