39. Eden
EDEN
Somehow I muddle through my Genetics class, and that night, it’s back to the Bree-and-Eden show as we sprawl across the living room with our books.
I look over my list of assignments. “Ugh, I’m so behind after this weekend.”
“Frankly, I thought you were never going to come back,” she teases. “That we’d lost you to Vitamin D.” One of her sayings, referring to a certain part of the male anatomy.
“Stooopppp.”
“Hey, we all need a dose sometimes. I guess it’s really Vitamin C, in your case.”
As if that’s his call sign, my phone starts ringing, and it’s Connor.
After our serious conversation earlier, no way am I blowing him off. “Sorry, Bree, gonna take this.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “No worries, I get it.”
“Hey, you okay?” I answer, shutting the door to my room behind me.
“I’m fine. I’m…it was good to tell you all of that, to be honest.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“Trust is the theme of the weekend, apparently.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Oh, what’s up?”
“So with all of the…intensity this morning, I forgot to tell you. I found this list online, and I’m going to email it to you.”
“What’s the list?”
“It’s more like a questionnaire. I guess people experienced with BDSM use it to communicate their likes and limits.”
“Okay?”
“We’re not experienced yet, though. Maybe we should use it instead to figure out what we each want to try? Because…it’s really comprehensive, and there are some…priorities of mine on there. I want to see where we overlap.”
My curiosity is thoroughly piqued. “Me too.”
“Obviously if something isn’t working or comfortable for one of us, we’ll tell each other and stop. Move on to the next thing.”
My body stirs at the thought of “experiments” with Connor, utilizing the list. “I’m in.”
He chuckles. “Was hoping you’d say that.”
When I look at the survey he emails me later, I get even more excited. This could be very enjoyable, assuming we have common interests.
I can’t even imagine the “Vitamin D” jokes if Bree saw the questionnaire. So I keep this development to myself.
The next day I have Art History class, and I managed to catch up on that homework last night, miracle of all miracles.
“You’ll be so proud,” I say to Jake, as we wait for the class to start. “I’m not behind for once.”
He fake claps, grinning. “Great job.”
Everything’s been fine between us at the lectures since the Hockey House party those weeks ago. I’d spotted him walking hand in hand with the same black-haired girl from the party two classes ago. I appreciate how chill he’s been, regardless.
Plus, his notes continue to be a lifesaver.
“We’ll see if I can keep it up, though. We have an away game tomorrow, so I’ll have less time for homework.”
“Oh yeah, felt. We’re away this weekend for a tournament in Boston.”
“Nice. Durham for us.” UNC is our opponent.
“You still on track to fight for the championship?”
The professor walks in, so I answer quickly before turning around to face forward. “Looks pretty good.”
Coming into this week, we’re currently sitting on ten wins, three draws and only one loss. So many of my teammates are playing better than I thought possible during the summer captain’s practices. Our chemistry’s connecting, making the sum greater than the parts.
I can hear Bree’s response to that: “Except this sum includes the likely Mac Hermann winner.” The top individual award for college soccer. The last issue of Soccer Magazine had included a short article on the NCAA women’s season, naming me as the favorite for the women’s award.
With sixteen goals and seven assists this season, Larsson is hands down the best striker in the college game this year…
Of course, I would love to win it, but the College Cup team trophy means more to me.
When game time comes on Thursday, it’s my teammates who make the first goal—a cross from April to Bree, who heads the ball in.
I get mine anyway, in the forty-third minute, but I’m more thrilled to celebrate them than myself.
“ONE-TWO-THREE-CHAMPIONS,” I shout, leading the chant in the visitor locker room afterward.
I’m starting to believe we have the team to get this done—and that it’s not all on me. Somehow, that makes it even more special.
THURSDAY NIGHT
EDEN: We won!
CONNOR: I watched online. That volley was a fucking beauty.
EDEN: Thanks :)
CONNOR: Like you
EDEN: :)
CONNOR: Can’t wait to see you play in person
EDEN: Someday…
CONNOR: If you make the College Cup championship, no way am I missing it.
EDEN: It’s in Atlanta this year.
CONNOR: Drivable at least. I’ll figure it out.
EDEN: Hide in a corner somewhere?
CONNOR: Whatever it takes…
CONNOR: FYI I did reach out to my Princeton counselor and she emailed me a referral for someone down here in Orlando.
EDEN: Oh great!
CONNOR: I have my first appointment tomorrow. Just wanted you to know.
EDEN: Proud of you.
CONNOR: Thanks. Tomorrow night’s still good?
EDEN: Yes, and I haven’t forgotten about the checklist. I…noticed you haven’t brought it up again since Monday.
CONNOR: Only because I didn’t want to pressure you. Plus, you had a busy week with the away game.
EDEN: Well, I’ll be ready tomorrow. It was interesting...
CONNOR: I’ll bring my answers and we’ll compare.
EDEN: I still can’t believe that you’re spending the night in my dorm room.
CONNOR: Just didn’t want to risk it, since Rawley will be home all weekend with Avery in Tampa seeing her family.
EDEN: It’ll be a tight squeeze for you.
CONNOR: Don’t mind that, as long as it’s with you.
EDEN: Also, Bree went a little crazy with the Halloween decorations, just to warn you.
CONNOR: Nothing’s gonna scare me off from tomorrow.