“Right.”
“I’m serious. And she’s not my girlfriend. It didn’t even mean anything.”
“That makes it so much better.”
Emma made a frustrated sound. “God, Jamie. You’re the one who said we don’t get to keep each other.”
“That’s why you kept this a secret? To get back at me?”
“No, of course not. I did try to tell you once.”
She stopped, thinking. “Are you talking about at the train station? This was the thing you had to tell me.”
Emma hesitated again. “Yes.”
“So it was going on before qualifiers.” Jamie rubbed her eyes, willing the tears to recede. They were angry tears, that was all. She was angry.
“I had a crush on her, but nothing happened before Canada. I swear.”
“That’s the thing about lying, Emma. Once you’ve done it, the other person doesn’t know if they can ever trust you again.”
As soon as she said it, Jamie knew she’d crossed a line—Emma had told her she’d heard her mother say that very thing about her father.
“Wow,” Emma said after a moment, her voice cracking. “I didn’t realize you had a mean streak. I guess I wasn’t the only one hiding things.”
They sat in silence, breathing into their phones. Jamie pictured Emma in her bedroom, curled up on her bed with the white lace ruffle that matched the curtains on the windows. Then she remembered that Emma liked to sleep in a soft, worn UNC Soccer T-shirt. UNC—where Emma was headed in a matter of weeks. Where Tori Parker, according to the camp roster, was a rising sophomore.
“Oh my god. That shirt was hers, wasn’t it?”
Emma didn’t ask which shirt. “Jamie, wait…”
“I have to go.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Hands shaking, she ended the call and turned her phone all the way off, still trying to hold back her tears. All this time, Emma had had feelings for someone else. The nights they’d spent pressed together in Emma’s bed—had she been thinking about Tori? Had she been pretending Jamie was someone else that entire time? The thought made her feel hot all over, as if she couldn’t stay inside her own skin another moment.
She almost made it back to her room undetected. Almost. But as she passed the alcove that housed the ice and soda machines, she glanced up to see one of the assistant coaches watching her. Fuck. She lowered her head and hurried down the hallway, expecting the coach to come after her at any moment. She was so busted. Would they kick her out of the pool for breaking curfew? Had she destroyed her soccer future over a girl? Except Emma wasn’t just a girl. She was Emma, and even though she’d lied, Jamie couldn’t help how she felt about her.
You can’t help who you fall in love with, she’d told Emma. Had she known then that she was in love with Emma? Or had she still believed it was only a crush? A crush didn’t make you feel safe and cherished, cared for and protected. A crush didn’t have the power to make you feel so lost that you weren’t sure you’d ever be found again.
Back in her room, she lay in the dark listening to Britt snore while tears slipped across her cheeks and dripped into her ears. She had cried over Emma plenty of times, but never quite like this. Before, it was because the distance between them had seemed insurmountable. Now she cried because the ridiculous hope that she had still stupidly carried, the absurd belief that someday, somehow, they might end up together, had been wrecked not by fate or bad timing but instead by Emma herself. She had lied to Jamie all these months. Even worse, she had slept with a girl who wasn’t her. And yes, Jamie had told her that they didn’t get to keep each other. But Emma had said she wished they could. Emma had kissed her and told her she loved her too. Emma had offered to come see her before she left for college—except it turned out she only wanted to visit so that she could tell her she’d hooked up with Tori. Tori, who was already in college and presumably as experienced as Jamie was clueless.
Was that why Emma didn’t want to be with her, because she had barely even kissed a girl? Or was it that she didn’t want to be with someone who was damaged? Given your history, she had written when she apologized for the kiss. Honestly, Jamie couldn’t blame her. If she was Emma, she wouldn’t want to be with her, either.
Shoshanna’s voice sounded at the back of her mind, something about boundaries and healthy relationships and how forgiving someone involves letting go of the idea that they or their actions have any power over you. But she ignored the voice and fixated instead on Emma’s face in the moment before they kissed. Her eyes had been wide and luminous in the light filtering down to the train platform, and she had looked so serious as she touched Jamie’s cheek.
That might be the last time they ever saw each other, Jamie realized, pressing her palms against her closed eyes. She couldn’t think how to get past this, not with Emma leaving for UNC so soon. She couldn’t go back to playing the supportive friend, not now. She needed to find a way to move past this place she seemed trapped in, to get over Emma once and for all. But if they really were breaking up, or whatever you called it when friends stopped being friends, then that meant she would never again talk to Emma on the phone, never text her first thing in the morning, never call her at the end of the day to say goodnight. Emma’s name wouldn’t show in her recent calls list or in her messages or emails.
But maybe it still could. Maybe they could get past this. Emma could fly down after camp like she’d offered and they could talk everything through, and maybe they could salvage a friendship, at least. They had been through so much together, and there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t end up playing together in the future, either for the US or for a pro side somewhere here or in Europe.
Then she pictured Tori slipping her arm around Emma’s shoulders the way she had that girl at breakfast, and her stomach clenched. Tori and Emma would be in Chapel Hill together in a few weeks, not to mention Thailand this fall for the U-19 World Cup. They would be around each other almost constantly, and where would Jamie be? In high school playing for the U-16s, if she was lucky—assuming that sneaking out of her room hadn’t gotten her kicked out of the pool for good.
At some point she gave into exhaustion and slept, dreaming vivid dreams she didn’t remember later. In the morning she awoke before the alarm went off and lay in bed worrying through one negative emotion after another. At last she rolled over and turned her phone on. Nothing. Emma hadn’t called her back after she hung up or even sent a text. Jamie sucked in a breath. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe Emma would be done. But she was the one who had started pulling away first, the one who had occasionally failed to call or text back for more than a day or two at a time. Jamie had given her the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she was just having a tough few months after her dad died. Now that she knew about Tori, though, everything looked different.
Britt was still asleep, so Jamie closed herself in the bathroom and dialed a familiar number, waiting as it rang through to voicemail. “Can you call me when you get this?”
Then she got ready for the day, showering and shaving her legs quickly and smearing her skin afterward with lotion that contained SPF 45. You could never be too careful when it came to skin cancer.
Britt was sitting up in bed when Jamie reemerged.
“Sheesh,” she said, yawning. “You’re up early, especially for someone who did a runner last night.”
“Sorry—hope I didn’t wake you up coming back in.”
“No problem.” Britt hesitated. “Is everything okay?”
Jamie shrugged and didn’t look at her.
“I mean, it’s none of my business, but you seemed upset about that Tori chick hooking up with your friend. Emma’s the one whose dad died, isn’t she?”
She wished now she’d never told Britt and Angie about her trip to Seattle. But they’d been texting while Jamie was there, and it hadn’t occurred to her to hide her friendship with Emma.
“Yeah, but we haven’t been as close since spring break.”
“Oh.”
Britt frowned. “What happened?”
“Her ex-boyfriend and I got into it a little, and ever since then it’s been weird. Plus she’s leaving for UNC in a few weeks so we’re headed in different directions. That’s probably why she didn’t say anything.”
“Right.” Britt nodded like what she was saying made perfect sense, and then slid out of bed. “Wait for me to go down for breakfast?”
“Sure.”
Britt paused and squeezed Jamie’s shoulder. “I’m here if you want to talk, bro. Just so you know.”
Jamie nodded, staring straight ahead. Admit to anyone else that Emma had broken her heart? Not effing likely.
Her phone rang while Britt was in the bathroom, and she held it for a second, eyes closed. Then she checked the name and pressed talk.
“Yo, sis,” Meg said, yawning. “Got your message. Where’s the fire?”
“Can you come get me during free-time this afternoon? We have two hours before dinner, and I have to get out of here.”
“Of course. Text me when and where.”
“Okay,” Jamie said, relieved. “Thanks, Meg.”
“You got it. But give me a hint—is this about soccer or Emma?”
“Both, I guess.”
She managed to hang on through morning fitness even though not sleeping well two nights in a row had her dragging. At the end of the session, Jo Nichols asked her to stay after, and she almost threw up the Gatorade she’d been pounding.
“Yeah, Coach?” she asked, keeping her eye on the older woman’s shirt collar as other players filed out of the weight room.
“I understand you were out of your room after curfew last night.”
“Um, yeah. Sorry about that.” As the coach gazed at her, she added, “I had a phone call and I didn’t want to keep my roommate up.”
“As thoughtful as that is, there’s a curfew for a reason, Jamie. You’re a minor and you’re our responsibility. I’m sure you can appreciate the difficult position you put us in by being out of your room last night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said quickly. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“All right, then,” Jo said. “I’ll let it go with a warning. But I expect better from you. Now go get cleaned up for lunch.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
Jamie hurried out of the room, nearly tripping over Britt and Angie in the hallway.
“Dude, are you in trouble?” Britt asked, chewing a cuticle anxiously.
“Nah, just a warning. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “You guys are always starving. I swear you’re like a couple of teenaged boys.”
At afternoon free-time, Jamie said goodbye to her friends and went outside the hotel to wait for Meg. She checked her phone for the hundredth time that day, but Emma was still laying low. At this time on Sunday they’d been making plans to see each other; now, two days later, they weren’t speaking. How could that be? How could Emma suddenly be gone? But that’s what Jamie had done to both Amanda and Faith. Maybe this was karma coming back around to knock her on her ass.
Meg pulled up right on time and they drove to the ocean. Hermosa Beach wasn’t quite ten miles away, but it took them almost half an hour to get there and find a parking spot. By the time they were walking on the paved boardwalk that ran for miles at the edge of the beach, Jamie had filled her sister in.
“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Meg said, slipping her arm around her waist and giving her a sideways hug. “But you know, they say that a relationship doesn’t end if it doesn’t end badly.”
Jamie choked out something that was half-laugh, half-sob. “In that case, Emma and I are definitely done. I haven’t heard from her at all since last night.”
“Do you want to, though? Remember how Amanda blew up your phone after you guys broke up?”
“Yeah, but this is different. We’ve been best friends for the last year, you know?”
“You could always get in touch with her.”
“She slept with a girl, Meg, and then she let me come here and find out about it from other people. She’s not even really injured. She just didn’t bother to show up.”
“Are you more upset about the girl or the fact she didn’t tell you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, and the words that came out next even surprised her a little: “Is anyone ever going to love me?”
Meg stopped and put her hands on Jamie’s shoulders. “Don’t do that. You’re amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you. Anyway, what about Amanda? Or Faith?”
“That wasn’t love. They didn’t know me, not like Emma does. She gets me. Or she did, anyway. And she still picked Tori.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you.”
She didn’t want Emma to only care about her. She wanted her to look at her the way she had that day at the train station—like Jamie was the only person in the world she wanted.
Then something else occurred to her: “I’m Amanda in this scenario, aren’t I?”
“What are you talking about?” Meg asked.
“I’m the girl who didn’t even know she’d been dumped for someone else.”
“You can’t be dumped unless you’re actually going out with someone, and you and Emma weren’t, were you?”
“Maybe not,” she conceded. “But it felt like we were.”
They started walking again, and she watched Meg out of the corner of her eye. “Do you think she picked Tori over me because of the..?”
“No,” her sister said quickly. “Don’t even think that.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do, okay?”
“Okay.” But pretending to agree with her sister did nothing to lessen the ache in her chest that had taken up residence the night before and refused as yet to budge.
They strolled along the boardwalk, eyes and heads shaded from the incessant SoCal sunshine. Jamie knew she should be somewhere quiet and dark resting, but she’d thought it would help to be out in the world rather than lying on her bed waiting for a text that might never come. Normally she would have enjoyed the throngs of fine-looking people roller blading and playing volleyball and laying out in the sun, but today she kept thinking she saw Emma everywhere. That girl sitting on a blanket wore her hair the same way; another further along the boardwalk had a dimple like hers. As a girl on roller blades passed them, tanned legs reminding her of Emma’s, Jamie groaned a little.
“What?” Meg asked.
“Do you think I should try dating guys instead?” But even as she said it, she couldn’t help making a face at the idea.
“Judging from your expression, I would say no. You really are the gayest of the gays, kiddo.” But she was smiling as she crushed Jamie in another brief, sidelong hug.
“Yeah, bad idea. By the way, thanks for not saying you told me so.”
“I wish I’d been wrong, I really do. But you’re going to be okay. You’re only sixteen, and in a couple of years you’ll go off to college and meet someone who is even more awesome than Emma.”
“What if I don’t want anyone else?”
“You will, someday. The game must go on, after all.”
“Not necessarily. Games get canceled or rescheduled all the time.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “I’m going to miss your literal mind next year, you know that?”
“And I’m going to miss your bossiness.”
“Good thing I’ll be less than an hour away. By the way, I hear Stanford has a stellar soccer program…”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “Can you imagine if we both defected to Cal’s biggest rival? It’s kind of surprising Mom and Dad haven’t kicked you out as it is.”
“They’re happy I’m going to a good school. And you know they would be thrilled if you stuck around for college, Miss World Soccer Traveler.”
Jamie thought she would probably be pretty happy to have a few more years at home with the family, too. Or
close to home, anyway.
“We’ll see,” she said. “I have to graduate from high school first.”
As they wandered the sandy walkway surrounded by beautiful beach people, the sun shifting overhead on its slow circuit of the sky, Jamie recalled a morning run she and Emma had taken in Seattle. Emma had said she felt like she’d stopped moving when her mom told her about her dad, just completely stopped. Meanwhile everything else around her had continued on and now she was a pace behind and didn’t know for sure if she would ever catch up.
“I’ll wait for you,” Jamie had said as they paused at an overlook, Puget Sound spread out before them. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Emma had looked at her then with an odd look, hope and fear and guilt all rolled into one. Now, of course, that look made perfect sense. Emma had already been crushing on Tori by then. Maybe they’d even hooked up, despite her insistence to the contrary. Would she really flat out lie to Jamie? Possibly. Like father like daughter.
She reached for the bracelet Emma had given her and rubbed the familiar engraving. Only this time, instead of calming her like it normally did, the feel of the metal warmed by her skin only made the ache in her chest spread until she thought she might choke. Blinking back tears, she undid the clasp and veered off the boardwalk toward a trash can. Before she could second-guess the decision, she dropped the bracelet into the receptacle where it landed on top of a pizza box.
“Didn’t Emma give you that?” Meg asked, frowning.
“Yep.”
“Are you sure you want to throw it away?”
“Positive,” Jamie said, already feeling lighter.
In her most recent session with Shoshanna, after Jamie had admitted she’d broken up with Faith and was looking forward to seeing Emma in LA, the therapist had asked if her relationship with Emma was still more positive than negative. At the time, Jamie hadn’t quite known how to answer, but now she did. She and Emma may have anchored each other through painful experiences, but somewhere along the way they had begun to weigh each other down.
On one wall of Shoshanna’s office was a framed Einstein quote: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” So that was what they would do. They would keep moving and they would both be fine. Maybe, someday, they would even find their way back to each other. But for now, it was time to move on.
Training Ground Page 27
