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The position of center back was one of our most difficult decisions, and we know you’re aware we can only take a limited number.

Unfortunately, we do not feel you are quite ready for international selection. Our scouts have been incredibly impressed with your work ethic and skill set, but we do harbor some concerns about your physical condition. The soccer season is long and stressful, and when we consulted with your physical trainers, they have advised that you are undergoing a strengthening program to help with instability to your ACL. We do not believe it would be fair or ethical to place added stress on your existing injury. Additionally, from a squad point of view, the risk of selecting a player with a potentially serious injury could have major repercussions, especially if Team USA goes deep into the tournament—which is, of course, our aim.

We understand this is disappointing, and by no means are we saying future selection is out of the question. Our main priority is your physical condition and securing the longevity of what we know will be a very successful career.

Your club has been notified, but please do not hesitate to contact us if you have any questions.

We wish you all the best for the rest of the season.

Team USA

Less than a day.

That’s all it took for the blissful walls to come tumbling down and my life to go from tea and a scone with a new friend to a devastating realization.

I pull at the neck of my sweater. I feel hot and claustrophobic, and I need to get the fuck out of this apartment. Stay in a hotel. Stay anywhere but here.

Heading to the bedroom I haven’t slept in since the night of the gala, I pull out my suitcase from under the bed, open it up, and make for the dresser.

Jenna: So … did you get the email? Brazil, baby!

Through blurry eyes, I read the message from my teammate. The one I longed to get. I feel crushed, depleted. I’ve got nothing left to give to anyone or anything.

Me

I didn’t make it. They said my knee wasn’t worth the risk.

Jenna

Okay, stop joking around.

Me

I wish I were.

I drop my phone on the duvet and swipe a handful of clothes from the top drawer of the dresser before throwing them into my suitcase. When I spin around to grab a couple of things from the nightstand, that’s when I see them. Two candles half burned and staring straight at me. The code to his apartment is next to them, scrawled in his handwriting with a smiley face below it.

There’s no way he sent those messages.

“Fuck it.”

I snatch up my phone again and scroll for Jack’s number. I just need him to tell me the messages were fabricated and that it’s all going to be okay. That I’m not a complete failure for not being selected. That I made the right decision when I turned down another shot in the UK.

That my gut was right to dive into something so soon with him.

That everything I felt between us was real and not a game.

Sitting on the bed beside my suitcase, I wait as his cell continues to ring until it connects to voice mail. I consider hanging up but change my mind at the final second.

“Jack, hi. It’s me. Um …” I bite down on my bottom lip and steady myself. “I need to talk to you about something that happened earlier today, and I really need you to call me back, okay?” My voice breaks, and I try to fight the sob as it spills free. “Yeah, I just need you to tell me it’s all bullshit.”

I hit End Call and wipe furiously at my eyes. Two more messages light up my screen.

Jenna

I’m throwing hands. No, actually, I’m refusing to play. You are the only center back I want. This is insane.

Collins