Page 42
Story: Catch and Cradle
Hope blinks and looks over her shoulders like he might be talking to someone else.
“M-my picks? I thought I was just here to demo.”
“You’re one of our best players. You know what we’re looking for as well as Becca and I do,” Coach insists. “You must have seen some standouts today.”
“Um, I mean...”
She glances at me, and I nod for her to go on. She was a pro out there with the girls today. I know she must have an answer.
She takes a deep breath and continues. “Okay, so seeing as we’re currently lacking in our midfield section since Tasia and Alexa both graduated last year, I’m gonna go with a bit of a hot take on this one. Hear me out.”
I thought I knew from within the first few drills who the girls to watch were, but as Hope goes on with her explanation, I realize just how much I missed. She can remember every girl’s name and what their strengths and weaknesses were, and she’s already matched them to what we’re lacking in our current team. I glance at Coach and see his eyebrows have risen over the top of his aviators. Bailey is staring at Hope with her mouth hanging wide open, and I feel like I’m close to doing the same.
She’d make a great captain.
The thought crosses my mind for the first time ever, with a loud, piercing clarity I can’t ignore. Hope would be excellent at leading this team. If I were passing on the torch, she’d be my first and only pick. I know Coach would agree.
But of course, I’m not passing on the torch. Not yet. Being captain of the UNS lacrosse team is who I am. I’ve fought through so much to be here. I almost lost Kala’s friendship just to stay on the team. I did lose a lot of people when I stayed. Getting the captain nomination made it all worth it. It felt like I belonged and always would. For so long, I just wanted somewhere to belong, and I found it here.
I don’t know who I’d be if I lost that. I don’t know who I am without lacrosse.
But what if I could find out?
“And that’s why I think we should pick her,” Hope concludes, cutting off my train of thought before it gets too crazy. I zoned out and missed her last few sentences, but I still join in Coach and Bailey’s applause.
“What?” Hope looks between the three of us. “Why are we clapping?”
“We’re clapping because you just did my job for me, Hastings.” Coach tucks his clipboard under his arm. “Have you ever considered running the national team’s draft for them? Maybe I could hook you up.”
“So you’re saying you agree with me?”
Coach chuckles. “Yes, Hope. That was a fantastic assessment.”
“Oh.” She taps the end of her stick on the ground a few times. “Thanks, C—I mean, thank you, Coach Jamal.”
I bite back a laugh. He still doesn’t know half the team calls him CJ, or that Hope’s household apparently has a garden gnome named after him.
“Thank you. You three better head home now. Early practice tomorrow morning.”
Bailey laughs. “It’s, like, not even seven, Coach.”
He claps his hands together in a chop chop motion. “Then you will have no excuse for being tired tomorrow. I, on the other hand, have a very uncooperative infant to attend to.”
We say our goodbyes, and the three of us carry all the tryout gear back to the supply closet before heading for the locker room.
“Do you guys want to grab dinner?” Hope asks after we’ve all changed—with me exerting every ounce of effort not to look over my shoulder at her the whole time. “I’m starving.”
“I’m meeting up with my boyfriend,” Bailey answers, “but we should do a team breakfast run tomorrow. We haven’t done that yet this season.”
“Oooh, good idea!” Hope pulls out her phone. “I’ll send a message to the group chat.”
She types something out and then looks up at me before I have time to glance away and pretend I wasn’t already staring at her.
The ‘being friends’ plan isn’t entirely flawless.
“You down for dinner, Becca?”
“I—yeah.” I swallow. “I’m down.”
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