Page 32 of Chasing The Goal
I knew that tone.
I’d worked enough injuries, watched enough players hear bad news to recognize the way someone's voice cracked when they didn’t want to say what came next.
I stepped out slowly.
Jaymie stood by the stove, spatula in one hand, looking like I’d just kicked his puppy. His other hand hovered over the garbage can, lid still open. A carton of eggs sat cracked on the counter beside a sizzling pan.
And on top of the trash, unmistakable, pink plastic. White cap.
My heart dropped.
“I wasn’t snooping,” he rushed, shaking his head. “I swear—I was just throwing out eggshells and the... it was right on top.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. My breath caught halfway up my throat and stayed there.
“I just—Mal, I didn’t mean to see it. I didn’t even realize what it was until…” he trailed off.
“I guess that’s really why I was nauseous,” I cut in, voice quiet but steady. “Apparently morning sickness doesn’t always hit in the morning.”
He blinked, stunned into silence.
I leaned against the wall, the cool paint grounding me.
“Well,” I said, gesturing to the stove, “you gonna burn that omelette or what?”
Jaymie looked from me to the pan, flustered, then started flipping it like he was on a cooking show.
“I, uh—cheese okay?”
I nodded.
Silence stretched again. The air was too thick. I walked over slowly, not sure what to say. My feet dragged like I was walking into a whole new life I hadn’t asked for.
Jaymie handed me a plate, careful not to meet my eyes.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“But... I’m here. If you want.”
I looked at him then, really looked. His glasses had slipped down his nose again. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He looked scared. Like he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
And still, he stayed.
My throat tightened.
“Thanks,” I said. “Really.”
He gave me a small, crooked smile.
We stood in the kitchen, side by side, as I ate in silence.
And for the first time since the test, I didn’t feel completely alone.
Jaymie
Mallory sat at herkitchen counter, both hands wrapped around a mug like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her hair was a little messy, and she had that look—quiet, far away. Like her body was here but her mind had wandered off somewhere it didn’t want to be.
