something.
When it’s time for the juniors to eat, Phoebe stays in her seat and manages a few forkfuls while shooting the shit with Ali. She already chatted with the sophomore players who are eagerly lining up, and plus her food is cold, so she carries her and Ali’s plates to the trash.
Out the kitchen window, Phoebe sees Luci sitting by herself at a table in the backyard, staring quietly down at her lap. At least when Phoebe was a freshman, she had Mel to hang out with.
That’s partly why Phoebe pushed Mel to drive Luci home today. Mel was making excuses about the errands they needed to run, but Phoebe wasn’t having it. “Mel. Why are you being so weird about this?”
“I’m not being weird. I just don’t know where Luci even went,” Mel said, barely glancing around Coach’s classroom to look.
“So go find her!”
It soothed Phoebe that she wasn’t the only one with unkind thoughts. And, to her credit, Mel did take Luci home. Phoebe, however, still hasn’t said anything to Kearson. She hasn’t been a bitch. No dirty looks. No cold shoulder. But she can’t bring herself to go out of her way and say something nice to Kearson either. This isn’t like her. But like the clicks she sometimes feels in her knee, it’s a change Phoebe prefers to ignore.
“Hey, Luci,” Phoebe says, walking over. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
Luci shyly brings up what she’s been hiding in her lap. Her Wildcat team binder. “Studying.”
Luci reminds Phoebe so much of Mel. Adorable yet intense AF about field hockey. She teases, “Are you worried that Coach is going to hand out a pop quiz?”
Luci clenches her teeth, revealing two rows of silver braces. “I mean … I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Phoebe shakes her head. “You’ve passed the test, Luci. So put the binder away, fix yourself a plate of food, and go make friends with your teammates. That’s what tonight is about!”
Luci exhales. “Okay.”
“However. I’m going to require that you memorize the words to the songs I was playing in Mel’s car today. I can’t allow you to live the rest of your life with that kind of musical blind spot. I’ll send you the track list.”
Luci laughs and the metal sparkles. “Thanks, Phoebe. I won’t let you down.”
Phoebe follows Luci back inside. Mr. and Mrs. Gingrich are at the kitchen island, each with a glass of wine, smiling as they survey the party. Mrs. Gingrich calls Phoebe over and gives her a big hug. “It’s so good to see you like this, Phoebe. Back where you belong!”
“Thank you.”
“Any news on the scholarship front?” Mr. Gingrich asks tentatively. He is in a collared shirt with a Truman University necktie. It’s not showy—what looks like a pattern of small polka dots is actually a bunch of little Ts—but Phoebe recognizes it.
“Dad!” Mel, clearly horrified, zooms in from the living room. She takes Phoebe by the hand and leads Phoebe away from her parents. Phoebe stiffens, trying to resist Mel, not wanting to be rude, but Mel is pulling hard and the last thing Phoebe needs is to tweak her knee, so she gives up.
Over her shoulder, Phoebe says, “Um. Not yet. But hopefully soon!”
Mr. and Mrs. Gingrich call after her, “Well, we’re all cheering for you, Phoebe!”
“I’m so sorry about that,” Mel groans. “Now that they can’t obsess over my college choices anymore, they’re moving on to their second daughter.”
It’s true. Phoebe and Mel are like sisters. Knowing that Mel’s entire family is pulling for her is a welcome change from the vibe in Phoebe’s own house.
Mel curls up against her. “I bet Coach will be getting plenty of emails from scouts wanting to come see you this season. Not that he’ll ever tell.” She hooks her chin on Phoebe’s shoulder. “Anyway, you know how he is.”
Whenever Mel typically says this, it’s usually to soften the blow of her knowing Coach better than Phoebe. And most times, Mel does.
Just not this one.
However, all Phoebe says in response is, “Does he honestly believe not telling us stops us from thinking about it? You played every game last season wondering if a scout from Truman was there.”
“Yeah, but I get why Coach does it. It would mess with our heads if we knew for sure.”
Phoebe smiles. She could have predicted that’s what Mel would say. She always walks back anything even remotely negative about Coach. Mel might know Coach better, but Phoebe knows Mel better than Mel knows herself.
“You