Page 82 of Love and Other Goals

“Sure, that’d be fun,” I respond without much enthusiasm, hopping out of the truck. I’m saved from further conversation by Sofia running up to me in the parking lot exclaiming there’s big drama at school to fill me in on. I give a half-hearted wave to Mateo as I follow Sofia inside, grateful for someone else’s drama to distract me from my own.

When the program ends, we’re back in Mateo’s truck driving home. My mind is sprinting circles around variations of the same central question. Why hasn’t he told me anything?

Mateo parks down the street from the AOPi house in the first open spot. The car is still running when he pivots toward me. “Are you okay, Lana? You’re not acting like yourself.”

I bark out a laugh. I’m not acting like myself—yet you can keep acting perfectly normal while hiding something colossal from me, my brain silently retorts. Aloud, I reply, “Actually, I’m not okay. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Mateo clicks on the interior light, then looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak. Normally, his patience in giving me space to process is comforting, but right now it just makes me more upset.

“When were you planning to tell me that you’re going to play professional soccer after graduating?” I ask, while mentally begging for this to all be a big mistake, for Aaron to have been making it up, for it to not be true.

Mateo’s eyes widen with shock momentarily, then narrow. “How do you know about that?”

A tiny grenade goes off in my heart, painfully splintering it into a million fragments. It’s true…It’s true…Why didn’t he tell me?

I swallow hard. “Well, I guess that confirms it. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Jaw flexing, Mateo’s eyes close for a beat before he looks back at me. “I was planning to tell you when I knew something for certain. It’s all still up in the air right now, so I didn’t want to worry you if it wasn’t going to pan out.”

This is really happening. It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the interior of the truck. I open the door and stumble out onto the curb, slamming the door behind me. In a flash, I hear the engine turn off and Mateo’s door closing. He’s around to my side of the truck, blocking me from walking away in the time it takes me to coordinate my feet to start moving.

“Lana, stop. Listen to me. I was going to talk to you about all of this once I had some concrete information,” Mateo says, trying to take my hand. I yank it away.

The thread of logic in his reasoning only serves to feed my frustration, making me dig my heels in further. “You don’t think information that potentially impacts my future is something I would want to know about right away?” I throw at him angrily. “Exactly how long have you been pursuing this?”

Mateo purses his lips, and tears sting my eyes. His hesitation is not a good sign.

“Coach Anderson called me about it at the end of winter break,” he finally answers, guilt flashing over his face.

“Two months?” I whisper. “You’ve been planning this for two months?”

“It’s not a done deal, Lana!” Mateo says, voice slowly rising with his own frustration. “It was the beginning of an idea when Coach called. He’s being recruited by a couple of USL teams as an assistant coach, and if he gets hired, he wanted to make it a condition that I get accepted onto a League Two team this summer and bumped to his team next year if I play well. But nothing is set in stone yet—I don’t even know if this is really going to happen.”

“When will you know, huh? Exactly how much notice was I going to have that we may be parting ways after graduation?” I demand.

“This was never going to mean we’d be parting ways, Lana. I would have figured things out,” Mateo fires back.

“But I don’t get to be part of that conversation? I don’t get to decide if I want to figure it out? How long till you know, Mateo?”

He draws in a breath and blows it out. “Over spring break I’m traveling to work out with a few teams. I’m hoping to know something definite after that.”

This is real. They wouldn’t bother to fly him out if they weren’t seriously considering him. I watched him play all year, and I know how good he is. He’s good enough for this. My stomach heaves as my mind races to process.

“I don’t suppose these teams are in Sacramento, are they?”

“No, they’re not,” Mateo admits. “They’re?—”

“I don’t care where they are,” I interrupt. “I just care that apparently you thought I was going to give up everything I’ve worked for the past six years of my life if we were going to stay together.”

“Lana! I would never expect you to give up UC Davis. I don’t know exactly how we would make things work. I couldn’t plan that out until I knew where I might be playing, if I would even say yes to playing. But I would never expect you to give up your goals for me.” Mateo runs his hand through his hair to his neck. “I can’t believe you’d even think that I’m capable of that, after all the ways I’ve supported you and proved that I believe in you.”

I start walking away again because looking at the mix of hurt and frustration in Mateo’s eyes is starting to break through my defenses, and I don’t want to let go of my anger right now. He quickly cuts in front of me.

“You didn’t answer my question either, Lana,” Mateo says, eyes narrowing once more. “How did you find out about this?”

Heat springs to my cheeks, and I’m enraged by the embarrassment I feel over finding out from Aaron. Mateo’s jaw ticks as he stares me down. “I can’t believe this,” he mutters.

“Well, I didn’t find out from you, and that’s the point,” I spit out defensively.

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