Chapter 52 – Jordan
FIFTY-TWO
JORDAN
“You wanted to see me?” I pop into Coach Lang’s office.
“I do.” Her voice is light, an ease I haven’t heard all semester. “Sit. You feeling good, ready for tonight?”
She’s probably the hundredth person to ask me that today. Mom, Dad, Molly, Sutton, Elliot, and Cooper. The entire team, medical included. Jaxon. My answer is the same each time: Yes. Head doesn’t hurt. Ready to be back on the ice.
Tonight is my first game back.
I was cleared for practice a month ago, but Coach and I decided it would be best for me to wait till break was over. There are still some bruises surrounding my ribcage, and the scar on my face is slowly healing, but otherwise, I’m eager to get back out there.
Coach Lang slides a metal jar of ointment across her desk. “This will help with the scar. I got a nasty one above my lip at the Olympics, and this stuff made it vanish in days.” I pocket the container.
“I have some good news that involves you.” She smiles, hands clasping on top of her keyboard pad. “We had an athletic department meeting earlier today regarding funding. They’re starting next school year’s budget and call it a Christmas miracle, but there’s enough money to bring the team back.”
“Really?” My voice cracks with disbelief. “This isn’t because of what happened against Wisconsin or the AD being a twatwaffle?”
I’ve got to stop using Jaxon-isms. Coach laughs.
“I promise, it’s not. He actually complimented you, impressed with how you’ve competed. He’d already been reconfiguring the budget, working with the Dean to reallocate money from other departments.”
“What about the other teams?”
“All five teams are to be reinstated. It’s too late for us this season, but spring sports are being told right now and start practice next week. There’s more.”
I slump back into the seat. How is this happening?
“Whoever donated the money also started a scholarship in your name.”
“My name?” She nods. “A scholarship?”
“A scholarship. To help cover any funding that Lakeland isn’t able to provide for any female athlete who wants to come play here. Think housing, books, etcetera. We both know athletic scholarships don’t cover everything,” Coach continues, covering the requirements.
Xanie. My best friend instantly comes to mind.
Coach must read my mind. “She’s who I thought of as the first recipient.”
I twirl a strand of hair around my finger; I’ve been wearing it down more. Try to conjure words to express what this means to me.
“You should be proud of yourself, Jordan. I am,” Coach Lang continues. “If you didn’t believe in yourself, none of this would have happened.”
“I am,” I tell her. “Does that mean I’ll have to play on the women’s team next season?”
“If you’d like. However, I think you belong on their team. Coach Mathieson made that clear in the meeting, but the decision is yours.”
“I wanna play with the boys.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Her daughters come running into the office, their nanny trailing behind them. They’re in miniature Lakeland jerseys, my name and number on their backs. I let them hug me and sign the jerseys when they ask before heading to get changed.
On my way to the locker room, I pull out my phone.
Earlier this week, I received a call from an unknown number. The area code is from Chicago, I looked it up. They didn’t leave a voicemail, so I didn’t bother to call back.
Locating the missed call, I dial back.
“Thank you for calling the desk of Francesco Valentini.” His assistant’s voice carries through the other line. “This is Mallory speaking. How may I help you?”
“Is Mr. Valentini in today? I’m returning his call from earlier this week. This is Jordan Carmichael.”
“He is.” Mallory pauses. “However, Mr. Valentini is in a meeting this minute. Can I have him give you a call back?”
“Sure. This number is great.”
“I’ll let him know as soon as he’s out. Have a wonderful day, Jordan.”
She doesn’t ask me what I’m calling about, which I find strange, before hanging up. I’m changing into my jersey when he calls back.
Quickly, I answer. “Hi, this is Jordan.”
“Jordan.” His tone is like a smile. “Is now a good time? You have a game tonight.”
“First one back, Mr. Valentini.”
“Please call me, Francesco. How are you feeling? Head better?”
“Was a little slow at getting back, but ready to be back on the ice.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. I’m assuming this call has to do with the scholarship, and before you say anything, you don’t need to.
This has nothing to do with Luka, I promise.
” He sigh-laughs. “If anything, I should pull my donation from Wisconsin after his behavior. I’m deeply sorry about what he did and how he treated you.
Jaxon and I spoke; he filled in the gaps.
But once again, this has nothing to do with them.
You and every female athlete deserve to have a place to play.
I’m happy to do this and to support you. ”
“Thank you,” I still say.
“I’m between meetings, but glad you called. Save my number if you need anything else, just call. Jaxon is family, which means you’re family. Next time you two are in Chicago, please let me know. I’d love to see you both.”
“Will do.”
“Good luck tonight, Jordan.”
The call ends, and I’m baffled. I finish getting ready, joining the guys out on the ice. I don’t start, don’t play much either, but we win.
The next day, after film review, Jaxon is dying my hair.
Since the day I dyed it, this is the worst it’s ever looked. It might not be uneven splotches of blue, but my roots have grown out and the color is dull.
“You know, you’ve still never told me why you dyed your hair blue.” Jaxon uses his fingers to massage the color into the strands. “It was in March. I remember seeing you on the quad, then all of a sudden, you were gone. The next day, you had blue hair.”
I stare at his blue shirt, then mismatched blue socks. Think about the blue laces of his shoes. Picture all the shades of blue in his bedroom. Wish that whatever team he coaches for in the future is some form of navy because it makes his green eyes flare to life.
“Because of you.”
“Me?”
It’s weird, looking back, I don’t remember what triggered the spiral. All I remember was him and my irrationality that became one of my best decisions.
“I was having a bad day,” I start. “Someone said something, called me ice princess, probably, and it sent me within my own head. I couldn’t escape it, was mad about how I couldn’t get out of head or be someone else. Then I saw you.”
I spin, craving his eyes instead of his reflection.
“You were talking to someone. Smiling. Laughing. Joyous. Bold. Spontaneous. Completely free, and I was jealous. I wanted to be like that.”
“So you dyed your hair.”
“I know it doesn’t add up, but yeah. Doing something completely not Jordan, more what would Jaxon do.”
“And the blue?”
“I didn’t go into the store with a plan, but as I walked up and down the aisle, I saw the blue. It was kind of game over.” I drag a finger across his chest. “When I see blue, I think of you. There’s always been something about you that drags me out of myself, reminds me of who I want to be.”
“Who you are.” Jaxon almost combs his hands through my wet hair before thinking better. Cups my cheeks instead, thumbs rub over my freckles. “You are my favorite shade of blue, Blue. Then, now, and forever.”
“And you’re mine.”
He kisses me fiercely before smiling against my mouth. “Hate to break it to you, Little Carmichael, but I think you’re obsessed with me.”