Learning Curve

Monday, November 11th

Scottie

“Okay, everyone!” Coach Jordan announces. “Take five, and grab some water!”

We’re only thirty minutes into our two-hour practice, and I’m already ready to go home.

A week and a half of calls and texts and, embarrassingly enough, showing up at his dorm uninvited one time, have all gone unanswered. Finn’s become a ghost on campus.

On a basic level, I, of course, understand. I violated his trust in the worst kind of way. Taking the paper and not telling him about it was bad enough, but sleeping with him when he didn’t know about any of it yet was the double down that nailed the coffin shut.

Finn Hayes wants nothing to do with me. I knew it that day by the look on his face.

But he hasn’t been coming to class either, and the idea of what I’ve done ruining his entire college career is too much to bear.

I sigh and grab my phone from my duffel bag. While most of my teammates laugh and chat with one another, I busy myself with checking my phone for the millionth time today.

The only missed text is from Ace.

Ace: Don’t worry, Scottie. I’m keeping an eye on him.

Fingers to the screen, I type out a quick response.

Me: Don’t worry? I’m worried, Ace. He missed class all last week. He’s going to fall behind.

Ace: I got him notes.

Me: Has he said anything about me?

I almost don’t send the message, but my overwhelming need to know if Finn hates me for good is too much to deny.

Ace: Not really, Scottie. Mind telling me what happened between the two of you? I’ve honestly never seen him like this.

I’m not surprised Finn hasn’t told Ace what happened. He isn’t the type to talk about feelings.

But when I reread the part that says I’ve never seen him like this, I have to swallow down the urge to puke all over my white practice shoes.

Me: I messed up.

It’s the only truth I’m willing to give. I’ve already done enough pushing and prying into Finn’s life, and that hasn’t gotten me anywhere but crying into my pillow every night. Any more explanation than that would just be another violation of trust.

Ace: Well, he probably just needs some space, then. Just give him some time to cool down, okay?

I’m terrified time isn’t going to fix this.

I sink my head into my hands, willing myself to keep it together. But when my phone vibrates in my lap, I quickly glance at the screen again, fully expecting another Ace update.

But it’s not Ace or anyone else I know, for that matter. It’s a heavy fucking straw, tempting the camel’s back to break.

Unknown: You think your mom gave you Fetal Alcohol Syndrome?

I shut my eyes and drop my phone into my bag, the cruel words starting a burn in my lungs. Who the hell is doing this? And how do they know so much about me?

I don’t know what to do. Before, Finn would have wanted to know. But now? It feels so unfair to involve him at all.

Maybe I should go to the campus police, like Julia suggested. I mean, if I don’t, is this going to go on all year?

“All right, girls. Let’s run it through again,” Coach Jordan calls, clapping at Nadine when she and a couple of the other girls don’t stop talking when she does. “Come on, from the top. We only have three weeks until the qualifying competition for NCA Nationals, and we’re nowhere near ready.”

I set down my bottle and jump up, running back to our stunting formation that kicks off our routine. Kayla and Emma are my bases, and Tonya is my backspot. We work really well together so far, but I know we’ve still got a long way to go on taking this routine to the next level.

“I want full downs out of your liberties this time. We’ve got to get those clean before we move on to the doubles. Bases and backspots, I need you catching high, okay? No sagging butts scraping the floor. Flyers, I want your bodies tight, not loosey-goosey like some of you have been.”

“Yes, ma’am,” we all call out in unison. Coach Jordan nods to Nadine, who’s stuck doing boom-box duty thanks to her messed-up arm. She rolls her eyes but hits play on the music, and the routine starts.

Two dramatic beats, and then Kayla counts it off, “Five, six, seven, eight!”

My hands under my chin, I clasp clap and set, and my bases do the same, ready for my foot. We bounce once, and Tonya gives my hips a shove, and I’m up in the air, hitting my liberty with the toll of the bell in the music. The other flyers beside us hit their marks, too, and then we all full down to cradle as the crescendo builds. I’m moving quick, ready to hit my mark for my tumbling pass, but the music scratches to a stop and Coach Jordan is yelling again.

“Back to the beginning! McKenzie, your hands were all over the place, and Beth looked like she was on a carnival ride with all that wobbling. We’re not moving on until we hit this perfect!”

Kayla rolls her eyes as we get set again, but after a quick glance to Coach Jordan, shifts her face to serious. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I remark, rolling my shorts higher on my thighs so they stop riding up.

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed upset at every practice since last week. I just want to make sure—”

“I’m fine, Kay,” I cut her off. I know she cares, and I know it’s rude of me not to give her any credit for it, but if I think about the fact that I’m in love with Finn and he hates me and Finn’s dad is Professor Winslow’s dad and an obviously really shitty guy, I will most definitely start to cry. And that isn’t going to help any of us hit this stunt well enough to leave practice at a reasonable time tonight.

I messed everything up. I have to deal with the consequences. Even if that means I have to plaster a fake smile on my face and find a way to carry this utterly devastating heartbreak that’s had me crying myself to sleep every night.

“Come on,” I say and force myself to look happy. “Let’s do it again. Perfect this time.”

Kayla nods, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that she knows something is up with me. Which means, to her, the matter isn’t officially closed. She’ll be asking me again, and frankly, I can’t blame her. I’d do the same if our roles were reversed.

It’s what good friends do.

But I have a feeling my mood isn’t going to change anytime soon—I’m afraid there’s no coming back from what I did to Finn.