Chapter 31 I’ll Give You a Ride
I’ll Give You a Ride
Maisie
Another week goes by with no word from Connor.
I’m beginning to worry. I text only occasionally since I never hear anything back.
If he had his suspension reduced, today should be his first day back at practice.
The first day I’ll have seen him in weeks.
I change quickly and make my way onto the pool deck.
My eyes scan nervously across the swimmer’s pool.
There he is.
My hands shake. I’m so relieved, excited, nervous, angry.
Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, but I look away.
Apparently, I’m not ready to face all these emotions.
I quickly march to the diving well and get wrapped up in a conversation about Janique’s history seminar.
Her professor is having them do a mockup of the Salem Witch Trials, but modernized to exemplify the injustice of what women endured during that time and how it perpetuates even in today’s society.
I sneak peeks over at Connor the entire practice, and once or twice I catch him already looking at me.
Each time, I shy away from holding his gaze.
I’m a vortex of emotion, but ultimately, I miss him as a friend.
No matter what, I need our friendship to be mended.
Whatever I did or didn’t do that is making him act this way, we can fix it. I know we can.
I placed third at our meet over the weekend, and I think that gave me a false sense of confidence because I’m diving like shit today.
I refuse to believe, however, that it’s because a certain someone is distracting me.
My stomach clenches when I think about how inconsistent I’ve been since the start of the season.
A good diver is a consistent diver. If you can’t perform when it counts, then all that work essentially amounts to nothing.
Coach Megan has never come right out and said that, but she’s alluded to it enough that it’s stuck.
I gulp down a breath of air and shuffle quickly to the locker room the moment practice ends. I don’t bother looking for Connor, hoping to avoid him. I’m not ready to face him, no matter how much I want things to go back to normal.
I’m showered and changed and stepping out into the hall when a call comes in from my mom.
I answer, “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
“Maisie, are you out of practice? Is now a good time to talk?”
“Yep, just finished up actually.” I shift my bag higher up on my shoulder as I walk to the front of the building, where there’s a section of small tables and chairs.
“I know your father and I said we would be able to pick you up the Saturday before Thanksgiving, but your dad has been selected as a finalist for the Golden Gavel, and the award ceremony is that Saturday. Attendance is mandatory,” she adds, punctuating that they really have no other choice and it’s not a big deal to go back on a promise they made to pick up their daughter for Thanksgiving.
“So, what do you want me to do? Not come home? I obviously don’t have a car to drive myself, Mom.” I let my frustration seep into my tone, so she knows I’m not pleased about this development.
“I know, sweetie, and we really are sorry, but we figured you could always get a ride with Karsen? I know you two are not seeing eye to eye right now, but surely he would still drive you home. You were together for two years.”
At this point, I’ve made it to the seating area of the natatorium. I slump down into the nearest chair and let my bag fall haphazardly to the ground.
“You want me to what? Mom, I’m not asking Karsen for a ride home. He and I broke up. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” I ask indignantly.
“I was simply trying to provide a solution to a problem. I figured a ride home would not be a big deal,” she says calmly.
I scoff. “Not a big deal? Mom, he…he…”
I don’t have the heart to tell her what Karsen has turned into. She always liked him and is good friends with his parents. She doesn’t need to know the details, but she does need to understand that riding home with him is absolutely out of the question.
I’m about to reiterate as such when a deep, familiar voice says from behind me, “I’ll give you a ride, Betty.”
His determined voice runs down my spine like the keys of a piano, and I whirl to look at him. His hazel eyes are darkened, brows furrowed. A shade of scruff marks his jaw that I wasn’t able to see when I was sneaking peeks in the pool. He’s in a tight shirt and khaki shorts.
My throat tightens. I can’t believe he’s here and offering to save me from this situation I’ve found myself in.
I realize my mom is still speaking on the other side of the line.
“Mom, I’ll call you back later.” And I hang up, slack-jawed and staring at Connor. “Um, hi,” I say. Eloquent, Maize.
“Hey,” he says as he pulls out the chair next to me. “Was that your parents?”
“My mom, yeah,” I say, eyeing him as he sinks into the chair, casual as can be, like it’s just another Monday and we haven’t gone weeks without seeing or talking to one another.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but then I heard you say something about Karsen giving you a ride home for Thanksgiving, and, well…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.
“So,” I say, “you’ll give me a ride?”
“Yep.” He pops the p as he says it. “We’ll have to leave Tuesday, though. I have a class a professor refused to cancel on Monday.”
“So we’re talking again?” I ask hesitantly.
“Appears so.” He shifts back in the seat and spreads his legs to get more comfortable, but his eyes never leave mine. Having his full attention again is almost unsettling.
“All right,” I say. “Then, how have you been?”
I’m holding back a barrage of thoughts and questions, afraid of spooking him again.
I want to ask where he has been, why we haven’t talked, if he needs me to pay for that herbal tea I never drank, how his therapy sessions have gone, how he’s feeling about being back at practice—but he’ll tell me what he wants.
He answers simply, “Okay.” After a moment, he adds, “Gearing towards good, now.”
Good because we’re talking again? Good because something else good has happened in his life? What does he mean?
Internally, chaos reigns, but I say, “Glad to hear it.”
I move to stand, and he stands abruptly with me. Like a gentleman standing when a lady enters a room in those period movies I like.
Not sure what else to do, I pick up my bag and say, “Thank you. I know it’s an hour longer than your drive would normally be, so I really appreciate it.
I’m not sure I could have made it in a car that long without killing Karsen.
I need to go study, but I’ll, uh, see you soon? ” I raise my eyebrows expectantly.
“Soon,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.
My heart flutters, and I try to tell it to take a chill pill. Just because he is swooping in to give me a ride doesn’t mean everything is back to normal or that he’ll want to go back to being friends again. I’m heeding Lauren’s advice and giving him space. Letting him come to me.
I pat him gently on the arm, and it might be my imagination, but his muscle seems to twitch at the contact. My eyes dart up and find his looking at me intensely.
He leaves me with, “Karsen doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. Your mom never should have tried to force you in a car with that prick.”
My eyes widen, lips popping open, but I nod my head. I slip my hand away and slowly turn to walk toward the exit. I can feel the heat of his stare on my back long after I’m through the door.