11. Ava
Flying with a head cold is probably the worst thing ever. My ears had this sharp stabbing sensation on the ascent and descent of the plane to Tennessee, which was hard to hold in as a grown woman. I just turned my head toward the window and tried not to cry.
I”ve taken a few types of medicine by the time we get off the plane, because I”ve still got to be the tour guide since I’ve been here several times. Sure, I don”t have any reservations for the vehicles, but I”ll be driving one, since I”m finally legal in the car rental company’s eyes.
”Are you all right?” I hear Charlie say from behind me. I”m sure my eyes are bloodshot and I”m just trying to get us to the hotel so I can sleep for the foreseeable future.
”Just great,” I say with a little bent arm swing.
”You got a cold, huh?” he asks, looking me over with a serious expression.
Nodding, I take out a tissue and wipe at the underpart of my tender nose. ”Yep. Gotta love it.”
Emily gives him a weird look before lengthening her stride and walking to catch up with some of the other girls.
”It looks like she”s making friends,” I say, pointing toward her. I probably shouldn”t be continuing the conversation, but I want to talk to him longer. Maybe this cold is weakening my resolve to stay away from Charlie.
There will be a few parents on this trip, but mostly, it”s like I”m the bouncer at a very young frat party. Maybe a little adult interaction is necessary.
”Yeah, she says that your team is the only reason she hasn”t hitchhiked back to Michigan.”
I chuckle and say, ”At least I”m doing my job somewhat.”
”What got you into starting this team?”
I sigh, wondering how much to divulge of this really long process.
”My very first coach was amazing, but after that, I didn”t have the best coaches growing up or in college. I think I wanted to make a difference somehow, to grow the game and to give girls the opportunity to learn under a coach who didn”t constantly yell all the time. Marsha reached out to me when I moved back to help Gran, and I figured I could make it work. It gives me a little more time to remember the good times of lacrosse while not being forced into physical therapy for torn muscles again.”
Charlie frowns as we walk through the security gate and out to pick up gear and luggage. ”That sounds painful.”
”Yes, yes it was.”
He mulls that over for a moment and I”m counting the girls, making sure they”re all there.
”Is that why you coach now? Instead of playing?”
I swallow hard, the lump forming in my throat making it difficult. ”Yeah. Three surgeries on the same leg meant I was now a liability for my team. I also didn”t want to ruin my leg forever. I”d like to grow old without regrets.”
”That”s an interesting way to put things.”
”Sometimes I think about the future and other times I hide from it.” What can I say? Some days I just don”t want to take responsibility. Those times are meant for brownies and pajamas.
We”ve rounded up all the girls and secured vehicles to take us all to the hotel.
”Okay, I”ll go get the keys,” Marsha says, and I”m just glad I can sit in the van. The humidity isn”t as bad as I”ve played in before, but it”s still enough to make this girl”s hair go curly. And not the cute bouncy curls, but the frizzy, tangled ones.
”Are we ready for this weekend?” I ask, hoping for some response from the few girls in my van.
”Only if we can get some better music on in here,” one girl says. We all laugh and I let Sarah take over as DJ, turning on the songs the girls want to listen to. I”m not that far out from the teen years, but there is a definite change in the genre of music being played these days. Geez, I sound like I should be at the nursing home with my grandma.
Marsha comes out of the hotel with room keys after checking in, and I”m just grateful to find my room and get to sleep. Sure, it”s only five o”clock in the evening, but that”s an hour later than at home and if I”m going to coach the girls, I”m need to be on top of my game.
It”s not until we get to the rooms that I realize I”m in a connecting suite with Marsha, Sarah, and three other girls.
By suite, it”s not to say there is room for days. Oh no, we have to scoot around each other just to get to the beds and bathroom. And the door to the room next to us takes up more space because we leave it open to come and go.
I claim the bed closest to the air conditioner because this girl runs hot at nighttime. Then again, the air will have to travel over the bodies on the pullout couch. Thank goodness I”ve graduated out of that spot. There”s no rest at all on one of those things. Unless you”re thirteen or fourteen and can bounce back from everything.
”Let”s go get some dinner,” Marsha tells the girls after we”ve figured out how to stick all the gear into designated spots.
”Go on without me,” I say, tucking my arms underneath the pillow. ”If you swing by a drugstore, will you grab me some cold medicine?”
Marsha nods. ”For sure. Rest up. We”ll try to be quiet when we come back.”
I don”t know how long they”ve been gone, but it feels like a blink and they”re back again, except this time smelling like pizza.
”I got a few options for you,” Marsha says, handing me the bag from the drugstore. ”We missed you at dinner. I should”ve asked if we could bring something back for you.”
There’s a knock on the door and someone answers it.
”I have a delivery,” Emily says, walking in with a small paper bag.
She hands it to me and takes a step back, talking to Sarah about how they should wear their hair for the games tomorrow.
I peek inside and see a bowl of soup. I could look up and ask her who it”s from, but I”d be the one to look like an idiot from that.
”Look who thought of you,” Marsha says with a wink.
The girls leave to go with Emily and I scoot back on the bed, opening the lid and breathing in. This smells like the best chicken noodle soup I”ve ever had. I should probably taste it to finish that statement.
I take a bite with the spoon provided and close my eyes. This is exactly what I needed tonight.
”Is someone sweet on a player”s guardian?” Marsha says with a grin. She”s rubbing goo all over her face to prepare for nighttime.
“Do people say ‘sweet on’ these days? I don”t think that”s typical.”
”Hey, I might be a little older than you, but I”m still hip.”
”Case in point. No one says hip now.”
”They also don”t say chill, but I think that”s what you say every other word.” We laugh at that and she gives me a more sober look. ”So? You and Charlie?”
My stomach constricts, but I”m cool as a fan when I say, ”Me and Charlie what?”
”I think you”d be great together.”
An uncontrollable laugh overtakes me. ”Just because he bought me soup doesn”t mean he feels anything for me.”
”Honey, I”ve been married to my husband for sixteen years and I”m pretty sure he wouldn”t know what to do with me when I”m sick.”
Okay, so a point goes to Charlie for that. What these points are supposed to add up to, I”m not sure yet.
”I”m not good with men, Marsha. I”m always too much for them.”
Marsha laughs, spitting out some of her toothpaste. At least it didn”t land on me. She disappears, probably to spit out the rest, and comes back a few seconds later.
”Why are you too much?”
”Too athletic, too dumb in science, too casual in my dress, too intense in sports. Too competitive in life.”
Marsha blinks several times and then says, ”Are these real things guys have said to you?”
I shrug. ”More or less.”
I eat a spoonful of the soup and wonder what Charlie”s motivations are. If it”s to get Emily to play, that”s already going to happen. No need to be a brown noser. I can”t even think that a guy like him, who dresses up in very nice clothing and can just drop a few thousand dollars to support our team, would even think of me in a way more than friendly.
”I don”t know. It might be worth thinking about. The guy has been willing to buy and fund everything we’ve needed. Do you know he just put in a t-shirt order when Whitney said she would love to get matching lacrosse mom t-shirts?”
As cheesy as that sounds, that he put in an order after someone just mentioned something makes me smile.
And then reality sets in. “He’ll support us and then move on once the honeymoon phase has ended.”
Marsha stares at me with wide eyes. “Honeymoon phase? So you have feelings for him.”
Waving my hands in the air, I say, “That’s nowhere close to what I meant and you know it. Sure, he feels useful and happy to support now. Then he’ll tire of donating and we’ll be back to where we were before.”
“I don’t know, Ava.”
“It’s what people with money do. They have the advantage of going anywhere and people will accept them.”
Marsha reaches over and pulls me into a hug. “I don’t think this is really about Charlie.”
A tear trickles down my cheek, and I brush at it quickly before pulling away from Marsha. “Charlie, my ex-boyfriend, my parents. It’s a blanket statement.”
Shaking her head, Marsha says, “I don’t know. Something tells me not to include Charlie in that group.”
“Because he brings me soup?” And Chinese food. Gatorade for our players. Paying for tournament fees. To be honest, I don’t think my ex, Terrell, would’ve chipped in money for any of his family members.
And now I can”t not think about Charlie. Way to shove the purple elephant into my brain when I’m not supposed to be thinking of purple elephants.