and walked quickly on her tiptoes.
She found her in the stairwell, draped over the banister, all weight lifted off her leg. She was still in her big walking knee brace. “Fuck!”
“What’s going on?” Mel put her hand gently on Phoebe’s arm. Her skin was warm to the touch.
Phoebe glanced up at her, pale and glassy-eyed. “Do you have any Advil?”
“Advil? You look like you need an ambulance.”
“I’m fine. I think I’ve just been working my knee a little too hard.”
Mel gave her a look. “Phoebe. Let me see it.”
Reluctantly, Phoebe lifted her dress and unhooked the walking boot. Her leg was vibrating. The skin was angry red and swollen around her knee, and her incisions oozed a milky liquid.
Mel put her hand to Phoebe’s forehead. She was so hot it scared Mel. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”
Phoebe’s eyes looked a little unfocused. Like she might suddenly faint. “Don’t tell Coach, okay?”
Mel positioned herself up underneath Phoebe’s armpit and helped her hobble. “It’s going to be okay.”
The nurse sat Phoebe in a chair and crouched on the floor in front of her like a shoe salesman. She stuck a thermometer in Phoebe’s mouth. “It’s 102,” she said soberly. “Phoebe, what’s the best number to reach your parents?”
Mel ran straight to Coach’s classroom. They were in the middle of taking a test; everyone had their heads down. She walked quickly up to his desk and said, “Something’s wrong with Phoebe.”
Coach didn’t say anything. He just walked right out of his class. Mel followed as he hurried to the nurse’s office, his gait awkward and stiff from his own knee injuries.
As soon as Phoebe saw him, she started to sob.
Mel hung back by the nurse’s office door to give them space. He sat next to her on a cot, letting Phoebe lean against him and cry. And when Mrs. Holt pulled up a few minutes later, Coach carried Phoebe out to the car in his arms.
Mel loved him in that moment. Knew for sure she loved him. For weeks, as an act of self-preservation, she had tried to convince herself she didn’t. But accepting she did allowed her to release whatever muscles she’d relied on to hold the pieces of her heart together. And his treatment of Phoebe was proof that he cared about them despite how hard he tried not to. Which gave her hope.
Phoebe had developed a joint infection. It wasn’t clear if exercising too hard had caused it but it did not help. She was admitted into the hospital, had drains put in her knee and another surgery to clear out the infected tissue, then spent three days on a course of IV antibiotics. She didn’t allow visitors. Not even Mel. It set her progress back a month.
That was the real stress point in their friendship, Mel sees now. As soon as Phoebe was able—or, honestly, even before—she returned to her crazy rehab schedule. Mel asked her a few times about her knee, but Phoebe never gave her a straight answer. More than that, Phoebe made it clear it was a conversation she didn’t want to have.
Is it any wonder that Phoebe is stuck in her own feedback loop all over again? Mel listens to her talking to herself with a sinking feeling.
“I really don’t think it’s my ACL,” Phoebe says. “There wasn’t a pop like last time.” Hop, wince, hop, wince. “It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Hop, wince, hop.
Mel pulls out her phone, intending to check the time, but she finds several texts from Gordy waiting for her.
GORDY: I don’t want to fight with you, Mel.
GORDY: If you honestly don’t want me at your scrimmage, I won’t go.
She writes out, I think it’s for the best that you don’t, then deletes it.
Writes, I’ll call you after my game, then deletes it.
Writes, Please leave me alone, then deletes it.
Suspiciously, Phoebe asks, “Who are you texting? Coach? Don’t say anything—”
“It’s Gordy.” Mel returns her phone to her pocket, annoyed. “We need to go. Can you walk?”
“If I had my Knee Spanx, I’d be fine.”
Mel rolls her eyes. “Coach has a first aid kit in his classroom. I bet there’s an Ace bandage in there. And maybe one of those instant ice packs too.”
Mel offers Phoebe her arm, but Phoebe opts to use the field hockey stick instead. Silently, they head toward Coach’s classroom.
Mel doesn’t bother turning on the lights. She drops Phoebe off at one of the desks in the front row and then opens Coach’s supply closet, using