to quiver. She lets go of her bandaging, and the whole tight coil unravels, goes slack, useless.
“I would do anything for this team!” Phoebe’s voice would probably be louder if it weren’t so shaky. “And for my best friend. That’s why I’m in this situation, Mel. Except unlike you, I never needed any credit. I don’t need the validation you do.”
“That’s funny coming from someone breaking into Coach’s laptop for scout emails!”
“Quit acting like you’re upset for our team. The only person you’re thinking about right now is Coach. He’s the one you don’t want to disappoint. He’s the only person you play for.”
Mel sets her jaw. “Coach came back this season and he didn’t have to. Sorry I don’t want to let him down! Sorry I don’t want him to regret it!”
Phoebe pauses and Mel can see something running through her head. Regrets. Mel knows she must have them. But Phoebe still has to accept responsibility. No one made her play. She’s accountable for her own choices.
“Why don’t you ask Coach what a horrible, selfish teammate I am? Text him right now.” Her lip curling, Phoebe adds, “I know how much you two chat.”
Mel stiffens. It looks like Phoebe is gathering her courage or something, which freaks Mel out, so Mel keeps talking. “Look. I don’t want to fight with you.” As soon as Mel says this, her eyes well up. Because it’s true. She wishes she could take back everything she’s said. But she can’t. It’s out there.
Phoebe quickly finishes bandaging her knee and then gets up and slowly approaches. “Have you two talked about me? Has Coach said anything to you about how I’ve been playing this week?”
Mel goes cold, fight-or-flight kicking in. “Are you serious? He knows you’re my best friend!”
Phoebe begins to cry. “Are we, Mel? Are we still best friends? Because it doesn’t feel like it. It’s like we barely know each other anymore.”
“Of course we are!” Mel starts backing up. “Seriously, Phoebe. Coach hasn’t texted me once this entire week.”
“Then give me your phone.”
Phoebe grabs for it. It’s almost playful at first, but Mel holds on tight and twists away. It should be over. But Phoebe is relentless. And Mel is lying.
She and Coach have texted about Phoebe. Plenty. Their last exchange before tonight had been about her. Never anything bad. Never ever ever.
But what’s on her phone is dangerous to Coach. Mel can’t let Phoebe see how much they are in contact. Mel pushes Phoebe off her and Phoebe yelps in pain.
“Phoebe—”
“Forget it. Let’s just go.” Phoebe wipes her eyes. “Can you bring my stick back to the gym?”
“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Mel picks up the loaner field hockey stick Phoebe’s been using as a crutch. “You sure you don’t want to hang on to it?”
“If I lean on you, I can probably manage without it.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Mel’s entire body is shaking as she walks briskly to the gym, her phone still gripped in her hand. She realizes she never sent Coach the picture she took in the gym. She quickly puts it in a text, along with the second verse of the Wildcat fight song.
Don’t mess with the Wildcats, we won’t accept defeat,
For we are the Wildcats, and we just can’t be beat!
He texts back immediately.
COACH: It’s after three in the fucking morning.
COACH: We have a team meeting at nine sharp.
COACH: And an enormously important scrimmage tomorrow.
MEL: I know, I know. We’re almost finished. Just one more stanza left.
COACH: Do you think any of this is going to matter tomorrow?
COACH: When Oak Knolls shows up fully rested?
COACH: Do you think this is going to give us an edge?
MEL: I thought this is what you wanted …
COACH: Don’t even think about turning this around on me, Mel.
COACH: This “plan” is yours.
COACH: Own it.
COACH: I’m going to bed. Don’t text me again.
Mel rubs her arms and looks around the empty gym. Weren’t they just having the time of their lives ten minutes ago? Maybe everything is irreversibly screwed up. Maybe it is all her fault.
The shame begins to drain her, her sense of self spiraling down like a bath with the plug pulled out. Underneath Mel’s confidence has always been the unnerving worry that, without Coach there pushing her and shaping her and guiding her, she would never shine the way she has. After the championship loss, it became something far more haunting: that Coach had her pegged all wrong. Mel’s not the player he thought she was. Not even close.
Even if