Page 25 of Goalie Lessons

Now it’s her turn to look somewhat nervous.

“How are things going with the girls?” she asks, the question seeming like a diversion. Is she here to talk more about my question?

A flutter of energy rises through my stomach. Maybe she’s going to tell me the truth about why she ran away.

This entire interaction is bizarre, but there’s something oddly comforting about being in her presence. It’s almost like talking to her is snapping me away from the pending attack, so I go along with it.

“About how you’d imagine,” I say, surprising myself by choosing to go with the truth. Pausing, I dip my head and ruffle my hand through the back, fluffing up the damp curls. “I’m pretty sure they both hate me.”

She nods, like that’s what she expected, and starts to pace in front of me, her hands holding her elbows. “Okay—so I’m working at the center.”

“The center?”

“West Milwaukee Children’s Center.Callie and Athena are doing daycare there?”

I blink, realizing she’s talking about the place I’ve been dropping them off at in the mornings. I’d thought of it as a summer camp. “Oh—yeah. Their case worker wanted to get them around other kids, she said an opening had just come up for two.”

Astrid just stares at me, and I add, “It was the only place that had an opening for both. I couldn’t separate them. I know it’s more for low-income kids. I made a donation—”

She waves her hand in front of her face, as though swatting at a fly, like that’s not the issue. “Not every kid is sponsored there. That’s not—” She lets out a long breath. “That’s not the problem. I’m pretty sure this is some sort of conflict of interest, but I’m worried about her.”

“Athena?”

“Well, both of them, but Callie more.”

“Calliope—”

“She asked me to call her Callie,” Astrid cuts in, gently.

It takes my brain another long moment to catch up, to realize Astrid is talking about a conversation that took place between them.

“Shetalkedto you?”

This all feels sudden, but the idea that Calliope—Callie—was willing to talk to any adult feels almost too good to be true. The case worker has had her and Athena both seeing a professional children’s therapist since the accident, and according to them, Callie has been unwilling to say even a word in any of the sessions, not wanting to talk to the therapist. She even refused to color, or do any sort of activity. Just sitting completely quietly until the time was up.

“Yeah,” Astrid starts to rub her biceps up and down, and my eyes catch on the movement. “There was this whole thing on the playground. But they should be seeing someone—”

“Theyare,” I say. “Callie has refused to talk to anyone. Except you, apparently.”

Astrid shifts back and forth, then looks to the ceiling. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, Grayson, but I saw some concerning warning signs from her today. It’s a good idea for you to keep an extra careful eye on her.”

Without meaning to, I let out an amused huff.

Astrid shifts, crossing her arms. “What is that for?”

“Sorry.” I drag a hand over my face roughly, letting out another laugh, and then the words come out of me before I can stop them. “I’m having a hard enough time taking care of myself.”

When I open my eyes, I’m expecting worry, concern—maybe even empathy from Astrid. That familiar creased gaze, the one that comes from other people when I have an anxiety attack in their presence.

But when I look at her, there’s just a smug smile on her face. It jolts me enough that some of the anxiety ebbs, simmering down further into a low hum.

“What?” I laugh, and she does, too, taking a step back and shaking her head. Our gazes hold for a second, and I feel it there again—that connection that flowed between us at the wedding. Some sort of tether.

And I know she feels it, too.

“Nothing.” She shrugs, grinning, sticking her hands in her pockets and rocking forward as she says, “Almost like someone was right about pretending everything is okay.”

She’steasingme.

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