Chapter 9
“Ms. Martin, we are about to start our pregame practice. Feel free to make an appointment with my assistant during office hours next week.”
Principal Crawford turned back to the field where the marching band played what Haddie guessed was the Muskies fight song while cheerleaders were tossed into the air and, thankfully, caught by those standing below.
“I just want to discuss these budget cuts and some possible scenarios that might let Summertown keep its soccer program.” Haddie refused to be dismissed, even though she knew they weren’t going to solve anything during a pep rally.
Would this be a mark on some secret checklist Principal Crawford might use to pink-slip her at the end of the year?
Maybe. But as much as she wanted to keep her job, she wanted to earn and keep her team’s trust that much more.
The principal sighed but kept his eyes on the field. “Come up with an alternate scenario first, Ms. Martin. And then we’ll talk.”
“Really?” Haddie bounced on her heels, unable to bite back her grin. She’d pounded a tiny dent into his armor. Even if it was barely progress, it was something.
“Really,” he relented.
“Okay!” she replied. “I will. And then I’ll make an appointment, and…
and we’ll talk. About scenarios. And soccer.
” She was beaming. She couldn’t help it.
It was a glimmer of hope, and she was going to hang on to it.
The school year had just begun. So much could change before summer came around again.
And even though no players had taken the field yet, she already considered the night a win.
Principal Crawford glanced in her direction and raised a brow. “Does that mean I can blow my whistle now and start warm-ups?”
Haddie nodded. “Of course. Absolutely. Warm-ups. And I will talk to you next week!” She bounded in the opposite direction, heading back to where she’d left Emma and Matteo in the stands.
Only, when she got to their section of the home team bleachers, she found Emma, Matteo, and Levi waiting for her.
“You know what?” she said, backing away from their row as quickly as she’d approached.
“I’m in the mood for a hot pretzel. Who wants a pretzel, because pretzels are on me?
” Except she didn’t wait for anyone to respond.
Instead she jogged down the bleacher steps, onto the pavement, and continued back around the stands to where the concession booth was.
Facing the man who decided the future of her career? No biggie. Facing the man whose texts she’d guiltily read and reread the past two nights? Scarier than walking a circus tightrope with no net beneath.
“Haddie!” she heard over her shoulder, and ugh, if the sound of her name on Levi’s lips didn’t make her want to halt in her tracks. But she fought against physiology and kept moving, pretending she didn’t hear him, which was feasible because there was already a sizable crowd milling around.
Her plan, though, was not foolproof since once she arrived at the concession stand, she had no choice but to stop and get in line. Leaving the group for a sudden desire for a hot pretzel might have been an excuse, but now that hot pretzel was on her brain, her belly really wanted one.
“Haddie,” Levi said again, this time from right behind her.
She sighed, squared her shoulders, and spun to face him. “Levi!” she exclaimed with entirely too much enthusiasm. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Fancy seeing you here? To what decade had she just retreated?
His brows furrowed. “You’re surprised to see me at the home opener football game? Surprised to see me in line to help you carry all those pretzels? Or surprised that you’ve managed to freeze me out for two whole days, and now you have to talk to me?”
Haddie’s squared shoulders took a deep dive into Slumpsville. “The last one, I guess,” she admitted with a mumble. “But I’m angry at you, and I don’t know how to deal with being angry at someone I live with if that someone isn’t my grandmonster who ignored me as much as I ignored her.”
Levi’s shoulders fell too, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Haddie was quicker on the draw.
“This isn’t about me and my grandmonster, so don’t look at me like that, okay? This is about you and me and—”
“And you get to decide when and where we hash this out? Haddie…as you’ve so brilliantly pointed out, we live together. And up until a couple of days ago, I thought we were friends.”
She sighed. The sincerity in his eyes and the hint of anguish in his tone were melting her frosty exterior.
“We were,” she admitted. “I mean…we are. I think. I don’t know? What do friends do when they get mad at each other?”
Levi laughed. “You mean when one friend gets mad at the other and then pretends he doesn’t exist? Come on, Haddie. You’ve gotten into fights with friends before.” He paused. “Haven’t you?”
Haddie swallowed. “So, this is the part where I’m either going to sound cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs or…well…I guess that’s the only way I’m going to sound. I’ve never had a fight with a friend before.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “Not even Emma?”
She scoffed. “Emma and I don’t do mad.”
He shrugged. “Fine. What about any of your friends back in Chicago? You had to have gotten in a fight or two.”
Haddie shook her head slowly. “And before you accuse me of being friendless, I’m not.
I mean, I wasn’t. I had plenty of people I hung out with in high school and in college, but no one close.
No one like Emma.” This was the lifestyle she’d cultivated, never planning on someone like Emma who would claw her way over the drawbridge and past her moat.
But saying it out loud didn’t sound cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs to Haddie’s own ears.
It sounded…sad. Like she suddenly realized she might have been missing out on more Emmas in her life. Or maybe, possibly, a Levi.
He crossed his arms. “Why do I get the feeling that was by design and not because of how severely unlikable you are?”
Why? How did he see right through her?
“I don’t let people get too close, okay?” she told him. “And I think, maybe, I let you claw your way in too soon. You disappointed me, and now I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Can’t get much closer than the bedroom next door,” he offered with a tentative grin. “And claw my way in?”
She sighed. “I guess you’re like Emma. Scrappy.”
He put his hands on his hips and stood like a superhero ready to take flight. “I’m too big and strong to be scrappy.”
Haddie laughed, despite the continued feeling of unease that seemed to come hand in hand with being Levi Rourke’s roommate and friend.
“Okay,” Levi continued, taking a step back and holding up his hands.
“I’m not going to push you to talk this out if you still want space, but at least hear me out.
” He waited a beat, and when she didn’t stop him, he went on.
“I don’t know how much you follow college football news…
And I’m guessing by the look of utter disinterest on your face that the answer is not at all.
But the reason why I’m here, why I have this job?
It’s because I did something I shouldn’t have, even if I tell myself it was for the right reasons.
Everything I do while I’m here bears weight on what I get to do when this year is up. ”
He ran a hand through his hair, a pained expression on his face.
“I don’t just get to go back to my job…” He shook his head.
“No…my career. I have to pay fines. To do court-mandated counseling. I need a letter of recommendation for reinstatement from a trusted reference like Coach Crawford.” He let out a mirthless laugh.
“My future is basically at his whim. Does that make any sense?”
Haddie’s heart squeezed. Of course it made sense.
The same man held both of their careers in the palm of his hand.
But it didn’t change one very simple truth.
“What about their future?” she asked, motioning toward the bleachers where much of the student body congregated to cheer on the team.
“Do you really believe what’s done is done? ”
“I–I don’t have a choice,” he admitted. “I have to.”
“Then you’re right,” she told him. “I guess I still need my space.”
He nodded, and Haddie hated how much her stomach tied in knots at the wounded resignation in his eyes. “Okay,” he finally said. “I understand. I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your evening.” Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a couple of steps backward, until he turned and walked away.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” someone asked, and Haddie spun around to find she was suddenly at the front of the concession line, a PTO parent waiting to take her order.
“Oh!” Haddie replied. “Yes. Um…four soft pretzels, please.” Because she wasn’t going to be a total jerk and snub a guy she knew probably hadn’t eaten dinner like the rest of them.
Ninety seconds later, Haddie awkwardly carried the four paper trays that were wildly too small to hold the gargantuan pretzels back to the bleachers. She should have been surprised when she got back that Levi was gone, but she wasn’t.
“Where’d Levi go?” Emma asked.
Matteo held up his phone, brows pinched together.
“He just texted. Said something came up and he’ll catch us for the next game.
” His shoulders fell, only a little, but it was enough for Haddie to notice she probably was a total jerk, making him miss a game she was sure he’d been looking forward to all week.
Emma hooked her arm through her fiancé’s and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Matty Matt. I know you were hoping to connect better before the wedding.”
Haddie passed out the pretzels and collapsed onto the metal bench next to Emma, two giant twists of dough in her own lap. “Everything okay with Matteo and Levi?” she asked softly enough that she hoped only Emma could hear, but Emma waved her off and tore into her pretzel.
“Just…Levi hasn’t been home much in the past decade, and all siblings have issues, you know?” she said around a mouthful of dough.
“One of those siblings can hear you,” Matteo responded from Emma’s other side.
Except Haddie had no idea. Emma was the closest thing she had to a sibling, and they’d only met as fully formed adults. “I’m sorry, Matteo,” she called back, further solidifying her total-jerk status.
Emma nudged Haddie’s shoulder with her own. “How are you doing?”
Haddie laughed. “Are you Joey Tribbiani-ing me?”
“Ha!” Emma replied. “If I am, is it working for you?” She batted her eyes at her friend.
Haddie stared pointedly at Emma’s boobs. Or, more specifically, the words written across her boobs on her T-shirt. “Yeah, except I don’t think at any point during the show did Joey say, ‘Hold on while I overthink this.’”
A second later, Haddie’s phone buzzed on the bench beside her with a notification.
She frowned when she picked it up and read Emma’s text. “Why are you sending me a calendar request for a meeting at the town hall?”
Emma grimaced. “Okay, so I thought I programmed that email to go out at 7:00 a.m. and not p.m. My bad?”
Haddie tapped open the calendar invite and read the no longer truncated title. “Saturday-Morning Grief Support Group,” she read. Then she glanced back up at Emma, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do I look like I need grief support?”
Emma’s head wobbled back and forth from shoulder to shoulder. Then she held her thumb and forefinger up. “Maybe a little?”
“I’m fine,” Haddie assured her. “Especially since I’m already making headway with Principal Crawford. If I can come up with a plan for alternate funding, he agreed to meet with me and hear me out.”
“Of course you’re fine,” Emma agreed. “And I’m super happy about Principal Crawford giving you a chance to save the program.
But I thought that if you weren’t ready to talk to me, then maybe you’d want to meet up with some other people who might understand what you’re going through…
Not that you’re going through anything.” She shrugged.
“It’s not like you have to RSVP. I just wanted to let you know the meeting existed. ”
Matteo popped his last shred of pretzel in his mouth and rested his head on Emma’s shoulder. “My dad and I have gone a few times since I’ve been home,” he chimed in. “Talking about stuff has never been our strong suit, and… I don’t know. Even a decade later, it helped.”
Haddie sighed and glanced down at her own untouched pretzel growing cold in her lap.
“Running is my therapy,” she assured them both, yet the slight waver in her voice made her wonder if maybe it might not be such a bad idea to talk to other people going through something similar.
Emma picked up Haddie’s giant pretzel and held it in front of her mouth.
Haddie laughed, sank her teeth into it, and tore off a piece that was almost too big to fit in her mouth.
“Then go for a run tomorrow,” Emma told her. “And if you happen to pass the town hall and want to venture inside, I won’t stop you.”
***
Maybe Haddie did need more space to figure out this roommate/friendship thing with Levi, but she also needed to take responsibility for perpetuating their stalemate.
Haddie: Awake?
Three dots appeared immediately, and Haddie waited for them to disappear, for no response to come. She deserved at least that much. But her phone buzzed in her hand a second later.
Mr. Tux: Awake
Haddie: Sorry I made you miss a night hanging with your brother. That kind of makes me the worst.
Mr. Tux: Thanks, Bday Girl. But there is no world I know of where you could ever be the worst.
Haddie’s heart and stomach simultaneously fluttered.
Haddie: What if there was a world where I was a supervillain?
Haddie swore she could sense him smile from the other room.
Mr. Tux: Then you’d be the best supervillain. See what I did there?
She laughed.
Haddie: I see. Impressive loophole.
Mr. Tux: Happy to know I haven’t lost the ability to impress you yet.
Haddie sighed. “Stop being so charming,” she whispered. Because even if she was still a little mad at him, she couldn’t ignore there was so much more to Levi Rourke than the Summertown soccer teams—or soon to be lack thereof.
The safest thing to do was put his charm—and both of them—to bed. Separately! Ugh. Even her brain was conspiring against her.
Haddie: Anyway, just wanted to apologize for making you feel like you couldn’t hang with Matteo. That wasn’t my intent. Sleep tight, Levi.
The telltale three dots appeared and disappeared again until finally a response came through.
Mr. Tux: Apology accepted. And still maintain you could never be the worst. Sleep tight, Bday Girl. Thanks for the text.
She set her phone on her nightstand and sighed.
Thanks for being scrappy, Mr. Tux, she thought and then drifted off to sleep.