caught in my throat. I inhaled through my nose, welcoming the oxygen.
“We have to get you to the nurse,” he said, helping me up. “Thank God we’re on school grounds.”
With his arm around my waist, he led me through the school—it was mostly empty, though the distant strains of band practice carried down from the choral room and mingled with the squeak of shoes from boys’ basketball practice, which had started last week. We headed toward the nurse’s office.
“Shit, she’s not here this late,” he said, setting me down on the vinyl bench where I’d once lain down through a bad bout of menstrual cramps. “Hold on.” He rooted through the cabinet, came back to peer at me, grimaced, shut the cabinets, then opened the small icebox under the nurse’s desk. He produced an ice pack, which he wrapped in a paper towel and handed to me. I pressed it to my swelling eye.
“I can’t believe I did that. Are you okay? Can you talk? Do you think I should take you to the hospital?”
I stood up. He was so nervous, I couldn’t help but feel worse for him than I did for myself and whatever had happened to my eye.
“I’m fine,” I said, regaining my voice, or a croaking version of it. “Really. I think you should go back out there and elbow everyone as hard as you can in the eye, because then we’ll all know we can take a hit. It was the right move.”
Bobby laughed. A good, deep, generous laugh that warmed the drafty room. I didn’t know how the first sentences I’d uttered after regaining my ability to speak were somehow the exact right thing, but I was apparently getting more comfortable around Bobby.
“Okay, let’s go suggest it,” Bobby said, waiting for me by the door. I liked that he said “let’s.” I walked out in front of him as he locked up the office. In the hall, he motioned for me to pull the ice pack away from my eye. Gingerly, I lifted it. Bobby drew a sharp breath.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I said.
“Do you want to find a mirror?” he asked.
“No, I like surprises.”
He laughed again and smiled at me, with eyes that were—was his gaze wistful? Or did I want it to be? “You really are something else.”
I knew it didn’t mean he was falling in love with me, but I’d remember it as feeling that way.
When I emerged onto the field again, the entire team was clustered near the fence, waiting for us.
“She’s not dead,” Tina said, jogging out to me and throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Shit, that was scary.”
“Can you talk?” Joanie asked, coming so close to my face that with my eye covered, it looked like there were two of her.
“How bad is your eye?” Dawn said. “That was a hard hit.”
“Don’t remind me,” Bobby said.
“Did you check her vitals?” Dana asked him, ever making a checklist.
“Do you even know what that means?” Lisa teased her.
“Like, her heartbeat and like, what if she’s dizzy? Are you dizzy? Could you have a concussion? Did you hit your head? What year is it? Who’s president?”
“I’m not dizzy. I fell on my back. It’s 1979 and Jimmy Carter is president but people say not for much longer. And thanks for asking.” She was annoying, but she was thorough.
I pulled the ice pack away from my face. Everyone gasped.
“Okay, I’m canceling practice tomorrow,” Bobby said. “I want you all rested for Saturday and I think I need a day to recover from that.” We started to head for our jackets and bags, but he held up a finger. “But first I have an announcement.”
The word “announcement” gave us all pause. Tina looked up from working out a nasty knot in her cleats. Marie stopped midway through shrugging on her jacket. A look of concern traveled from player to player, like a wordless game of telephone.
“I didn’t know what was going to happen when I took on this team. I just hoped I’d be lucky enough to find some hardworking, good players,” he said. Under the light, each time he exhaled it sparkled. The ice pack, which had started to soften against my face, seemed to tighten as a gust of wind slipped by. “I was more than lucky.”
Was? Was he going to tell us this was it for soccer?
“And sometimes, when a great group of players is lucky enough to find each other, they’re also lucky enough to have a great