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I wait to see if she’ll add more. I’m about to tell her we can drop it when she starts talking again.

“I think I might be going through some kind of weird doubting myself phase at the moment. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it must be bad if other people are noticing it too.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by bringing it up. I just thought maybe there was something different I could do for the next tryouts, like maybe I said something hurtful, or Coach did, or something.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. That’s not it at all. You guys are awesome. I’m just...”

She gets up instead of finishing her sentence and walks over to the nearest garbage can so she can pitch her wrapper inside. When she comes back, she sits down and stares straight ahead as she starts speaking so fast I do a double-take and struggle to keep up.

“I have dyslexia. I’m dyslexic. It’s, like, not even a big deal. I got diagnosed pretty late and it took me a while to feel okay about it, but then I had lots of great people help me learn to deal with it. Now it’s just a normal part of my life I feel totally okay about, except...”

She pauses and takes a few quick breaths, still staring out at the ocean.

“Except it still does make things difficult. University is so hard. Everything takes me forever, and it’s way harder to get academic support when you’re in a class with a hundred people than a small high school, you know? When I first started at UNS, I wasn’t even sure I would try out for lacrosse. It felt like I was pushing my luck, like I should just be happy I even got into university in the first place. I need lacrosse, though. I need that outlet, so I make it work. It takes a lot of scheduling and a lot of prioritizing and a lot of discipline, but I make it work.”

Her hands are balled into fists in her lap, her forehead creased with all the determination I can hear in her voice. She looks fierce, like she’s ready to re-shape the world around her through sheer force of will.

The more time I spend with her, the more layers I see pulled back, always revealing something new underneath. She’s way more than just happy-go-lucky Hope Hastings. She’s more than the girl who makes everyone laugh in the locker room. She’s more than the girl who shines on the field. She’s more than all the struggles she’s describing. She’s a whole universe slowly unfolding itself in front of me, and there’s something humbling and precious about that.

“I didn’t think I could fit a relationship into all that,” she continues. “I told Ethan that. I opened up and told him everything I was scared of, every weakness I thought I had, and he said it would be okay. He said we would take it on together, but in the end...he just threw all my deepest fears in my face. In front of everyone.”

I can’t help it. I reach over and wrap my hand around her clenched fist. Heat flares low in my stomach at the contact, but I ignore it. There are more important things going on.

“Hope, you have to know all anyone got out of that situation was realizing he was a complete jackass. Nobody thought it reflected at all on you.”

She looks up from staring down at our hands and locks her eyes on mine. The glow of the sunset picks out the flecks of hazel in the bright, clear blue.

She has eyes like a river.

“I know what he did was bad and wrong and totally unacceptable,” she tells me, “but what if there was some reason in what he said? Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to try hard enough. He said he started keeping things from me because he didn’t think I could handle them. I just...I can’t stop thinking about it.” Her hand twitches under mine. “I haven’t felt like this in years. I thought I was over feeling bad about dyslexia, but I guess not.”

She sighs, and some of the moment’s intensity breaks. I pull my hand away, and she goes back to looking out at the city and the sea.

“It’s really stupid. Nothing has actually changed, but I’m questioning everything. I’m almost past the deadline to apply for this summer economics internship. I have it all finished, but every time I go to hit send, I just...can’t. I start wondering if it’s going to be too much for me.”

“Hope.” I nudge her foot with mine to make sure I have her full attention. “Nothing about you is stupid. Nothing at all. I mean, just today I was thinking about what an amazing lacrosse captain you would make. I would trust you with the whole team, and I can’t even think of a single other player I would say that about.”

She lets out a shocked laugh. “Captain? I mean, maybe tryout manager, but captain?”

“Absolutely, and I’m not just saying that to be nice. You know I don’t hand out lacrosse-related compliments just to be nice.”

She laughs again. “That’s true. I remember in first year, you once told me that if I wanted to be a cross-checking troll, I should get off the field and go live under a bridge.”

I clap my hand over my mouth and double over with laughter. “Oh my god, did I really say that?”

“Yeah, it was quite the criticism.”

“I can’t believe I called you a troll. Oh my god.” I clutch my stomach as I fight off another laugh attack. “I mean, in my defence, you did used to get kind of aggressive with the cross-checking.”

“But a troll, Becca?” She throws her hands in the air and shakes her head, but I can see her biting back a grin. “Where did you even come up with that?”

“I have no idea. I guess I just wanted to make sure I kept our star player from racking up penalties.”

She scoffs. “First I’m a troll. Now I’m a star player.”

“You’ve always been a star player.”

“Oh really? In first year, I didn’t even think you knew my name.”