Chapter 37
Ashby
It was a day before my eighteenth birthday, and while I should’ve been excited to celebrate the next day, I couldn’t stop thinking about how quiet Milow had been over the past few days.
I had asked her if something had happened, but she reassured me that she was just more tired than usual.
Maybe she was studying too hard again, not giving her mind enough time to rest. I decided not to keep pushing, knowing that if something were wrong, she would’ve told me.
At least, that’s what I hoped.
On the way to Scottie’s soccer game in the afternoon, we stopped at a gas station to grab some snacks. Stan insisted. After letting him loose in the shop for about ten minutes, we walked back out with drinks and way too many snacks. Stan was happy about it. Milow was too. So I didn’t argue.
Once we arrived at the soccer field, I parked in the lot beside it. We got out and headed toward the stands, taking a spot near the middle, so we had a perfect view of the field. Both teams were already warming up, and I scanned the field until I found Scottie.
She wore the number 17 on her back. That number had always been hers. She started playing when she was just six years old, and I still remember the day she told us about the new jerseys they got and how she chose her number.
She had been so excited about it that I asked her why she picked 17. She never told me. Not then, not ever. Growing up, with that question still stuck in my head, I eventually figured it out myself. She chose it because Stan’s birthday was on the 17th of February.
Even when she was little—when Stan treated her like she was contagious—she still loved him.
“There’s my girl!” Stan shouted, pointing toward Scottie on the field. “Woohoo, go baby!”
She turned her head toward the stands, spotted Stan, and grinned. She shook her head with an exaggerated eye roll, then lifted her hand and waved. We all waved back.
“Let her focus, dude,” I said, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him down into his seat.
He sighed but stayed standing for another second, watching her. “She’s just so beautiful in that jersey and with her hair pulled back like that,” he said, finally sitting down beside Milow. “What’s that hair style called? You know, when girls pull their hair back with gel and all.”
Milow smiled at him. [A sleek back ponytail.]
“Right, that. She looks so fucking hot with a sleek back ponytail." He looked back toward the soccer field, with his jaw dropped as he watched Scottie. “Jesus Christ… just look at her. And that hair…”
I chuckled. [What, you got a hair fetish now?]
“I think I’ve always had a hair fetish. But only when it comes to her hair. I mean, fuck… look at it swaying back and forth. And that curl at the ends… so fucking perfect.” He tsked, still staring at her. “She reminds me of a doll I used to have when I was a kid.”
Milow grinned. [You had a doll?]
“He still has it,” I told her.
Stan never took his eyes off Scottie, continuing to admire her from afar. “Thank fuck girls don’t go bald like most men do. And I hope she never cuts it.”
“She won’t,” I assured him, though, some girls liked to experiment with hair. “But maybe one day she decides to shave her head. You know, to try a new look.”
That caught his attention, and he stared at me wide-eyed. “Fuck, I know I don’t get to say what she can or can’t do, but I would literally cry if she ever decides to shave her head.”
[She’d look beautiful even without her long hair,] Milow signed, smiling at the idea of it.
“Yeah, for sure. But, shit…” He looked back at the field with a shake of his head. “I need her to keep it that way.”
“She will, buddy.” I leaned back and placed my hand on Milow’s thigh, glancing at her as she ripped open a chocolate bar. She bit into it, and when she noticed I was watching her, she smiled and held the chocolate to my mouth.
I leaned in and took a bite, smiling at her as she bit into it again herself. I gave her thigh a squeeze, and when she finished the chocolate, she pocketed the wrapper and tugged at Stan’s shirt to get his attention.
[How many goals do you guys think she’ll score today?] she signed once we both looked at her.
“Oh, definitely two. Or more,” I said. Scottie was a natural goal scorer.
She played left wing, and even though her role was supposed to be assisting the strikers—which she did constantly—she still managed to score herself.
Her crosses were always perfect, landing right in the penalty area where her teammates were waiting for the ball.
“She’ll score a hat trick,” Stan said confidently, like it was already a fact.
[I’ll say a hat trick too,] Milow signed, smiling proudly.
The game started soon after, and we all focused.
Scottie’s team was on fire. It felt like every single player had been waiting for this game all summer.
The break had been long, and I’d heard Scottie complain more than once about not having any matches.
Now the season had finally started, and they’d be playing every weekend for the next ten or so weeks.
By halftime, the score was 2–1 for Bowen FC, and one of those goals belonged to Scottie.
They’d earned a free kick after one of her teammates was fouled.
The position was far from the goal, far enough that most players would’ve passed it off.
But Scottie did what Scottie did best. She placed the ball, took three steps back, lifted her gaze to the goal, and sent the ball straight into the net.
The crowd erupted. Stan shot his fist into the air. “That’s my girl!”
Scottie glanced up toward the stands and blew him a kiss. I grinned, watching Stan melt on the spot. “You truly can’t fuck up that date, dude.”
“Oh, I won’t,” he said, sitting back down.
“I prepared everything. I sent my parents away so we’ll have the house to ourselves.
I bought all of Scottie’s favorite foods.
Mom even baked a cake. We’re gonna have a picnic on the floor, with the TV playing one of those fake fireplaces. I thought of everything.”
Milow smiled and squeezed his arm before signing, [She’ll love it, Stan. You’re amazing.]
Stan grinned from ear to ear. “I know. I can’t wait to see her face light up when she sees it.”
I reached behind Milow and patted Stan on the back. “Proud of you.”
The match continued, and after two more goals scored by Scottie, the final score was 4–1.
“I told you she’d score a fucking hat trick,” Stan said proudly. “God, she’s such a talent. She should go pro.”
I chuckled and leaned back, finally relaxing now that the game was over. I rested my hand on Milow’s thigh. “She was incredible.”
Milow nodded. [I’m so proud of her.]
We watched the two teams shake hands, and after a quick talk from their coach, Scottie headed over to us, where we had moved closer to the side of the pitch.
[You’re the greatest, Scottie! Those goals were incredible.]
“Thank you, Milow.” Scottie grinned and gave her a quick hug, then looked at all of us. “I didn’t think we’d win, because that other team has always been super strong. But we did it.”
“You sure did,” Stan said, pulling her into a tight hug. “And you were the star, as always. You’re amazing, baby.”
Scottie smiled, then grimaced as she pushed against his chest. “I’m all sweaty and gross.”
“Just how I like you.”
“Ew, Stanley,” she whined, playfully slapping his arm. “I’m going to take a shower. Will you wait?”
We nodded. Before heading toward the changing rooms, she rose onto her tiptoes and kissed Stanley’s jaw.
“Today, my friends, I will finally be an official boyfriend,” Stan said confidently once she was gone. “I just know it. Things are going well.”
“I believe in you, buddy,” I said, squeezing his shoulder. Then I pulled Milow closer to my side and smiled down at her. “What should we do tonight?”
She shrugged and wrapped her arms around my waist. She was leaving the choice up to me. And I already knew what I wanted. Before my birthday arrived, I wanted time alone with her. Just us. Hanging out in my room and watching movies.
Whatever we did, with her by my side, everything felt right.
__
“I didn’t know what the fuck to do, Ash. She just stood up, and then she fainted and—” Stan’s voice was frantic on the other end of the phone. It had only been three hours since we’d left the soccer field, and now he was calling to tell me he was at the hospital. Scottie had suddenly fainted.
I tried to calm him down, but he was rambling, probably pacing the floor without stopping.
“Did you call Scarlett?” I asked. I stood in the middle of my bedroom, my phone pressed to my ear. Milow sat cross-legged on the bed, watching me with wide, worried eyes. She looked helpless.
“Yeah. She’s on her way. Shit, Ash… it happened so suddenly. We were eating the cake my mom made. She was happy, laughing, and then… then…” A sob tore out of him.
My chest tightened. “Do you want us to come to the hospital, Stan?” I asked. I needed to be close to him. And I knew Milow would want to be close to Scottie, too.
“I don’t know… the doctors and nurses haven’t even come out yet. They haven’t told me what’s wrong with her.” Another sob followed, deeper this time, and raw with fear. “Yes. Please come.”
“Okay.” I looked at Milow and nodded once. She was on her feet instantly. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Of course. Hang in there, buddy.”
We hung up. I let out a slow breath. “Scottie’s in the hospital. She fainted at Stan’s house and didn’t wake up.”
Milow covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes filled immediately.
“She’ll be okay,” I said, even as my own stomach twisted. I pulled her into my arms and held her close. I kissed the top of her head, murmuring soft reassurances. “Scottie’s strong. Whatever caused it, she’ll recover.”
Milow’s body trembled. When she pulled back, she looked up at me and signed. [What if something’s wrong?]
“She’s in good hands,” I said. “They’ll figure it out. They’ll make her better.”
But I knew what she meant. I’d noticed it too.
Scottie had changed over the past few months.
She had always been bright, loud, and energetic.
Lately, there had been moments that didn’t feel like her at all.
Her mood changed at the flip of a switch, and she went from laughing to getting angry.
And Stan had been the one who had to deal with it the most.
Milow wiped at her eyes and lowered her gaze to her hands.
“She’ll be okay, sweet girl,” I said again, reaching out to cup her cheek. “We can stop at that little gift shop at the hospital and get Scottie flowers and chocolates, hm?”
She looked up at me and nodded, smiling gently. [Okay.]
I smiled back and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then one to her forehead. “Let’s go.”
Milow slipped her fingers into mine as we headed for the door, holding on a little tighter than usual. I squeezed her hand back, steadying us both.
Whatever waited for us at the hospital, we’d face it together.