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I stand with a smile. “Perfect. Thank you.”

By the time I make it upstairs to my room, I can finally breathe. Being home is like spending too much time underwater, my lungs aching, begging me to take a breath, but I know that if I do, I’ll drown.

I have until graduation to tell them that I’m quitting swimming. Less than that really. I know they want me to attend the Olympic time trials in Colorado in April, as soon as college swim season is over. My stomach churns at the thought. It won’t be that they’re disappointed. It’ll be that they straight up won’t let me. I know I’m almost twenty-two, but that means nothing to my parents. They’ll do everything in their power to make sure their dream comes true. My dreams don’t matter.

Once, when I was ten, I suggested that maybe I wanted to be a vet instead. I’d got a little obsessed with a character in a show I watched. Mom said that was fine, but only after I retired from swimming. I was too young to understand what that meant, but now I realize it’s the answer for everything. Want to pursue a career as a music producer? Wait until your early thirties or until you succumb to injury.

I collapse onto my bed with a groan and pull out my phone. It vibrated a couple of times over dinner, but I didn’t dare check it.

ALDO: Happy Thanksgiving, Captain

Smiling to myself, I type out a response.

ME: Happy Turkey Day, Captain. Hope you’re watching those carbs.

Tapping out of my texts, I scroll through social media and the thousands of pictures of food people have posted until my phone vibrates again.

ALDO: I’m Italian. Carbs are life

I laugh out loud, but before I can think of a reply, the three dots start bouncing again.

ALDO: How’s your day going?

ME: I’m currently hiding in my bedroom. So… great?

ALDO: lol. I wish I could hide. Most of the adults are in a food coma so me and my sisters are on rugrat duty

I grimace. Sometimes having a very small family makes me sad, but it’s times like this I couldn’t be happier. Another laugh bursts from my lips as a photo comes through.

Aldo is lying down on a green, patterned carpet giving the camera a pleading look, while at least three small children lie draped across his body. Damn, he’s cute. How did I not notice this before? Maybe because I was dating Danny for most of last year. The previous men’s captain, he was a nice guy, but we both knew we weren’t playing for keeps. He’s back in New York now and I haven’t spoken to him since he graduated.

Before I can think of a reply to Aldo, a text from an unknown number pops up.

UNKNOWN: Happy Thanksgiving Joy (This is Lane)

I stare at the message as every emotion known to man takes turns running through my system. By the time I take a breath, I'm not sure how I feel.

ME: How did you get my number?

UNKNOWN: Team contact sheet

Me: Creep

Sighing loudly, I save his number in my phone. You know. For emergencies. It’s strange having almost all the missing information about Lane and what he’s been up to the last four years. Between his confession and my dad’s sleuthing, I can see almost the whole picture. The gaps that are left are not ones I want filled. Did he date at college? Did he fall in love? Maybe he still has a girlfriend.

My phone remains silent in my hand. I wonder whether Lane’s back in Montana with his parents and big sisters. Most probably. My eyebrows draw together as I wonder what Coach McMann does during the long Thanksgiving weekend. It’s not enough time to fly back to the UK. I’ve seen him hanging out with the dean a few times. I wonder whether he spends Thanksgiving with him and his family.

Pushing my head into my pillow I stare up at the ceiling. The last thing I should be thinking about while I’m lying in bed is Coach McMann. My skin heats as I relive our kiss. I will never admit it to anyone, but I did have a teeny tiny crush on him in freshman year. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s not that much older than us and he just oozes confidence. The kind of confidence that tells you he knows what he likes and how to get it. I swallow hard. If he hadn’t been so wasted, would I have let it go further? Probably not. Not with the Bees on the other side of the dance floor. If I’d left, I would have had to explain it. Wouldhehave let it go further? There are always rumors of him sleeping with students. Maybe they’re true. Perhaps I narrowly missed being a notch on his morally skewed bedpost.

It doesn’t matter either way. Nothing did happen and nothing will. The chances of being out at a club with him again are slim to none. It was a lapse in judgment on both our parts and I’m just going to pretend it didn’t happen and move on.

If only I could do that with Lane. Lifting my phone, I stare at his message. What does he think is going to happen now? That things are just going to be okay? That I’m going to be friends with him again?

“Joy!”

I bite back a groan as my mom’s voice carries up the stairs. Two more days. I just have to survive two more days and then back to freedom.

ALDO

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