Page 85 of Lovely War
Every time I think about the prospect of seeing Maynard this week, that knot grows tighter and more twisted. Across the room, across the court, it doesn’t matter—he’ll be right in front of me, in the flesh. How will I be able to focus on anything else?
Leave it all out there,Kat said. It’s become my motto. I won’t let him ruin this for me.
“Check this out,” Eric says, tilting his phone screen toward me. It’s a post fromBeach HouseLogan, a photo of an airplane window, captioned:Final 4 bound, LAX > MSY .A goofy giggle bubbles out of his mouth. “Is it weird that I’m nervous?He’sgoing to be watchingmetonight. How the tables have turned!”
“Pull yourself together,” I say.
“Five minutes!” Coach Williams’s voice booms. Time for the last practice—a relaxed, easy shoot-around—before tonight’s game.
I heave my bag over my shoulder and turn to Jess and Taylor. “I’m going ahead to set up.” I wind my way through the locker room to the exit, and as my fingers wrap around the handle, the door flies open. Ben stands on the other side. “Hey,” I say, touching his arm. “Where’d you come from?”
His mouth is tight, his forehead wrinkled with tension. It’s been a stressful week for everyone, but in a good way, and this is not the face of someone experiencing the goodkind of stress. Something is wrong. My mouth goes dry, and instead ofI forgot my laptoporKyle screwed up the lunch catering,my mind immediately flies to the worst possible place.I just saw Coach Maynard,it will start.
“I just saw Coach Maynard,” Ben says.
A block of ice materializes in the center of my rib cage. “Oh?” I choke out.
He leads me into the corridor, to a spot down the hall. Shifting from foot to foot, he looks around, at the ceiling, the sign for the restroom, the carpet, in a vaguely dissatisfied way. He scrapes a hand along his scalp.
“Uh-oh, not the hair rub,” I say, trying to elicit a smile. He gives me nothing, and my heart rate climbs up and up.
Finally his eyes settle on me. “Annie, can I be honest?”
“Okay,” I say slowly.
“I’m dying a little.” He breathes out a half sigh, half laugh. “I have so much I want to say to you. I know you don’t want to talk about us until the season is over. And it’s not the ideal moment. But. This is going well, right?”
This is not where I expected this conversation to go. But it’s not where I want to go either, not right now. “Ben,” I say, twining my index fingers around each other. “Yes, but please.”
“I don’t need for the season to be over to know how I feel about you,” he says.
I’m about to take down your idol, possibly get fired, and doom the school’s fundraising efforts all at once, so…“Yes, you do. Where is this coming from? What does it have to do with Maynard?”
He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “He offered me a job at Arizona Tech for next season. One of his assistants is leaving.”
I gawp at him. The universe is supposed to be chaotic, notdiabolical.I feel as stupefied as a bird that’s crashed into a windowpane.
“I see,” I manage to say through the rush of alarm swirling through my head.
“He needs me to make a decision by the end of the weekend. A lot of teams are starting to fill slots now that their seasons are over and if I’m not going to take the job, he wants to find someone else.”
“What? That makes no sense. It’s Final Four weekend. How are you supposed to consider any other options? Tell him you need more time,” I say.
“I think he expected it to be a no-brainer for me,” Ben says. “He seemed surprised I didn’t commit right away. He and I have talked about this for years, but I didn’t think it would happennow.I don’t want to jerk him around.”
The ice block in my rib cage turns molten. “He’s such anasshole,” I sputter.
“Please don’t say that,” he says.
“You need to think about yourself! Not him.”
He drags the toe of one shoe along the carpet. “I need to explain something, and maybe it will help you understand where I’m coming from.” He swallows. “Coach has always known what my family situation was like. After college, he gave us the most generous gift. It’s embarrassing for me to even admit it, but—he paid for my mom to go to nursing school.”
“What?” My voice is faint. How much does nursing school cost? I have no idea. But there are enough zeroes for it to matter.
“I owe it to him to take this seriously,” he says.
Which is exactly why he gave you something so excessive,I want to say. People who owe him are easier for him to control. “What does this have to do with me, then? Sounds like you’ve made your decision.”
