Page 99 of One on One
Donors are happy, the NCAA is about to throw a mountain of cash at us for winning the title, and tons of high school juniors have added Ardwyn to their college application list. The school’s piggy bank is overflowing. Nobody’s job is going anywhere, and every other sport—including gymnastics—is safe.
That’s why I spent most of the week after the championship lugging my furniture and other belongings from Kat’s place to my apartment. It’s time to settle in for real. I even hung pictures on the walls, although I’m keeping Mona Lisa Vito right where she is.
I have mixed feelings about how the story has (not) affected Ardwyn. Thankfully, at the bottom of the list of recent articles is this, from a Philly paper:ardwyn to commence maynard investigation, review title ix procedures.
I heard about it yesterday, and I’m cautiously hopeful. I never expected Ardwyn to engage in much self-reflection. The university president is a Catholic priest. The precedent doesn’t instill optimism.
It’s possible the investigation is just for appearances, because they’re obligated to send a message that they take harassment seriously, or because they want to stay a step aheadof Arizona Tech and win the head-to-head PR battle in the headlines. But they hired an investigator who’s known for not messing around. She’s from a firm in D.C., and magazine profiles rave about how she’s led the charge for anti-harassment reform at multiple Fortune 500 companies. Change isn’t guaranteed, but it seems possible.
And with that, my ten minutes of news consumption are up. It’s time to go anyway. I close my laptop, grab a coat, and wind a scarf around my neck. It’s a chilly day, and I’ll be outside for hours.
The route for the championship parade runs through Center City Philadelphia, down Market Street to City Hall and back toward campus. The cheerleaders lead the way, carrying a banner and waving flags and pom-poms, trailed by a pair of double-decker buses full of players and staff. Blue confetti floats through the air like lazy butterflies. People pack the sidewalks, kids sitting on their parents’ shoulders. All the voices shouting “wooooo” harmonize into a never-ending exuberant droning sound.
I sit near the front of the second bus so I can film the players, most of whom claim the upper deck of the bus in front. When I’m done, I plop onto a seat next to Taylor, Jess, and Donna.
“Let’s take a picture together,” Taylor says, handing Donna her phone. She leans in closer to me. “Jess, come on.”
Taylor pushes Jess’s beanie off her forehead so her entire face is visible, and Jess squeezes in. Donna holds the phone away from herself and squints. She taps the shutter button. “Good,” she declares, looking at the photo.
As we gathered in the parking lot to board the buses thismorning, I saw Donna for the first time since the story broke. She didn’t say a word, just wrapped me in an uncharacteristic hug, long and tight enough to make me wonder.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.Aww you have work friends!Kat says, with a picture of her computer screen. She’s watching the parade online, and the camera panned past us as Donna took the photo. I send back an eye-roll emoji, even though she’s right. They may be a ragtag crew of people I never would’ve bonded with otherwise, but yeah, they’re my friends.
When we reach the park outside City Hall, Coach Thomas gives a speech. Then we pile back onto the buses, which wind through the streets back toward the Main Line.
I haven’t spoken to Ben today, but it’s impossible to be unaware of his presence. He’s on the front bus, sitting with Eric. He looks happy, his posture relaxed as he leans back to hear Verona say something into his ear, his smile easy as he points out a fan in the crowd to Eric. He got a haircut, I notice. Just a trim, but it makes my chest ache, that I didn’t know about it until I saw him. Maybe he’s preparing to interview for coaching jobs.
We haven’t spoken since we returned from New Orleans. I’ve avoided the office, waiting for things to calm down. He called me once, last night, but I was too afraid to answer.
This is how it ends, I guess. It was worth the risk. I’ve survived awful things. I can do it again.
Cassie is somewhere on this block with her law school friends. I scan the crowd, find her, and wave. On the bus ahead, Eric is waving at Cassie too. But Ben is gone. Maybe he went downstairs to the lower level when I wasn’t looking.
No, he didn’t. He’s still on the bus ahead of me, but he’snot sitting in the same spot. He’s standing at the back, facing the bus I’m on, looking down toward the road in deep concentration. For a moment his bus brakes, and mine gets close to it, and then—what the hell?—he’s climbing over the railing at the back of his bus, and the one at the front of mine. As he swings his leg over, his bus accelerates.
“Oh my god!” a parade-goer shrieks from the sidewalk.
“What is he doing?” someone else yells.
That about covers my own thoughts. I jump up from my seat, as if that will help. If he falls and gets flattened under a tire, I’m never going to be able to look at my pasta roller the same way again.
Fortunately, he manages to land on the bus, albeit with a total lack of grace, stumbling forward and collapsing on one knee. He stands and brushes off his chinos without embarrassment, as if bus-hopping is a normal activity. “Hey.”
I sink back into my seat and cross my arms. “I thought you were supposed to be an athlete.”
“Hurdles were never my thing.” He steps closer, his expression cautious, like a zookeeper wondering if it’s safe to approach a lion. Not that I feel much like a lion.
Donna clears her throat and picks up her handbag, rising and moving a few rows back. Jess stands too.
“What’s going on?” says Taylor. “Oh—is this…? But coworkers aren’t supposed to…Isn’t there a rule…?”
“Who cares?” Jess grabs her hand and pulls her up. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s not?” Taylor’s entire face turns pink and she looks down at their joined hands as Jess drags her away. Jess was right. Taylor’s freckles do look ridiculous when she blushes.
Ben takes the seat next to me. “How are you?”
Now that the panic has subsided, annoyance and confusion take over. “What is this? What are you doing here?”
