Bouncing (39 page)

“Are you
Nike
?”

Alex sighed. So, that was it. The one news report Alex had watched talked about the illegal gambling activity at Merck Bakery and the sale of high-school exams but hadn’t mentioned the letter from Nike alerting the media. That must have changed.

She’d put a lot of thought into the email she’d penned to the news outlets, and in the end she’d whimsically recalled the day they’d met, when Brit told her she was like a goddess. Her whistle was inscribed with the name Nike. And there was her Christmas gift, too. She walked into her bedroom and ran a finger across the statue’s wings.

Nike
seemed generic enough to be untraceable. Except that Brit knew. She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but maybe that signature was a way of reaching out to Brit one last time, before Alex finally accepted that it was over and moved on. If that had been the plan, it worked. Brit had called. Now what?

“Yeah,” she said at last.

“Arggggggg!” Brit shouted into the phone, and in the best interest of her eardrums Alex pulled the phone away.

“Can you talk now?” Brit asked.

“Whatta ya mean?”

“I mean…Oh, God, Alex. I don’t know what I mean. I’ve just spent the last two months trying to hate you, because you were doing something so bad. How could you do something so good and confuse me so much?”

Alex ran her fingers through her hair. “Was that really a question?”

“Can I see you?”

“Right now?” Alex dropped on the sofa and lay on her side, suddenly overwhelmed. Did she even want to see Brit, who’d rushed to judgment and sentenced her to life without her love? Brit, who hadn’t even given her an opportunity to explain. Brit, who’d haunted her day and night. Of course she did. Even if Brit was a jerk, Alex was still in love with her.

“Can you meet me at the park?” Brit asked.

“I was just walking out the door. I can be there in five minutes.”

“See you there.”

Alex grabbed her basketball on her way through the garage and threw it onto the seat beside her. As promised, she was at South Abington Park five minutes later, and a minute after that, she was shooting at one of the open baskets.

It amazed her how relaxing it was to play basketball. A few bounces and a jump shot, a rebound and put-back, and a reverse lay-up later and Alex was already feeling better. Sensing Britain rather than seeing her, Alex stopped after a missed shot and turned. When Brit held up her hands for the ball, Alex passed it her way.

Brit bounced it once and shot it, and Alex rebounded the miss and tossed it back to her. She tried again and this time hit nothing but net. Before she knew it, Brit was guarding her, and they found themselves in the familiar game of one-on-one. They’d played often since that first time on this same court so long ago, mostly before practices, but sometimes just like this, with the two of them alone at the park. It was always a challenge, and always a workout, and always fun.

This time was no exception; in fact, it was more intense than ever, and Alex soon realized they weren’t really playing basketball at all—they were doing battle. They struggled for position and neither allowed a basket unchallenged. They blocked each other’s shots and fouled each other all the way around the court. It was if they were taking all of the frustrations of the prior months out on each other now, getting it out of their system so they could move on. No matter who won this epic battle of wills, they would both walk away having said their piece.

Alex finally ended the game, with a three-point shot from the top of the key. Too tired to gloat, she simply walked to the bench and sat, wishing she’d thought to bring one of the water bottles from her cooler. She watched as Brit retrieved the ball and walked to the bench, then sat beside her, facing her.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Brit asked when she’d regained her breath.

“Let’s get water,” Alex suggested, and they walked to her SUV and pulled two from the cooler. They walked, and Alex told her the entire story, from the moment Kelsey confessed to the moment she and Wes walked into the police station the day before. They were seated on a rock beside the stream by the time Alex finished.

“So, when I found the test, you’d already suspended Kelsey and pretended she’d sprained her ankle?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I asked Sal the hypothetical question about how to handle a player who’d cheated on a test. She suggested the suspension, but we had to fake the injury so she could still get into college. It might have been dishonest, Brit, but I didn’t want to ruin her life because of one stupid mistake.”

“I guess I can understand that, Alex. But you blew your chances of coaching in college.”

“After this season, I don’t even know if I want to coach high school.”

“Alex, that’s crazy! You were born to coach,” Brit said, and she grabbed Alex’s arm, forcing Alex to look at her.

Alex smiled in answer. “Well, I haven’t resigned, but I’ve thought about it.”

“Don’t resign, Alex.”

“How about you?”

She saw Brit hesitate, but then she smiled. “As long as you still want me…”

Alex nodded. “Of course I do,” and Alex looked into her eyes, hoping Brit understood she wasn’t only talking about basketball.

“Alex, this was so dangerous. I can’t believe you did it.”

Alex shrugged. “I knew Greg wouldn’t stop unless someone forced him to. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. It was probably stupid, but I’d do it again. Kelsey’s life wasn’t ruined. P.J. is free. Wes is free. And lots of other kids will be spared this kind of trouble.”

Brit touched the smooth skin of Alex’s knee, sending a shiver all the way through her. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I should have trusted you.”

Alex turned to face her, locked into those blue eyes, and felt all the same energy that was always between them—the attraction hadn’t weakened with time. The sadness they’d both endured hadn’t changed the magnetism that drew them together. But could they ever trust each other again? Could Brit trust Alex to be honest with her? Could Alex trust Brit to be fair?

Alex had no idea. Relationships were still foreign to her, and even though she’d learned to be a thoughtful partner who picked up coffee from the store and socks from the floor, even though she’d learned to compromise about movies and food, even though she’d learned to discuss feelings and ideas, she had no idea if they could move on from what happened.

“Why didn’t you?”

Brit sighed, and when Alex looked at her, she saw tears flowing down the beautiful face of the woman she loved. Longing to wipe them, she instead shifted, sitting on her hands to keep them still. It wasn’t her place to wipe Brit’s tears. Not anymore.

“I don’t know, Alex. I don’t. I’m new at this, too, remember? But maybe it was a combination of things. I was frustrated about my mom, and maybe I was blaming you for that. If I didn’t have you, I could go back into the closet and hide where I was safe and my mother still loved me. It sounds ridiculous, but I think a part of me believed that. And then there was the fear of losing you. I’d just found you and was madly in love with you, and then you started getting offers to coach on the other side of the planet. I was afraid you’d leave me, so maybe I left you first.

“Maybe I’m not ready for a relationship—for giving and taking and compromising. I don’t know. I just know that what felt so right back then, when I thought you were dishonest and unprincipled, feels terribly wrong now that I know the truth. It didn’t feel right to be with you under those circumstances. Even if I loved you, I wondered if I knew you. Would you cheat on your taxes and go to jail? Would you cheat on me? They seemed like valid concerns then. Now that I know the truth, none of it’s relevant.”

“I still can’t believe this happened. It’s so unreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream. Or perhaps I should say a nightmare.”

“Couldn’t you have trusted me with this, Alex? I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

Alex patted her knee, and she nearly shuddered at the contact. Again, it was as electric as ever. She sighed. “I know, Brit. I know. It’s easy to see it now. But I worried it might be dangerous, and I didn’t want to drag you into that. And I didn’t think you’d approve of the plan, and you would have tried to stop me. I was pissed, too. I was mad at you for the way you acted, and I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Brit leaned back until she was lying flat on her back, staring up through the canopy of trees at the brightness that lingered beyond, seemingly just out of her grasp. It was a metaphor for her life, she thought as she closed her eyes. For a brief, shiny month she’d been blissfully happy, but now that seemed so long ago. And Alex, who’d seemed so far away, was suddenly beside her again, but as unattainable as the warmth blocked by the dense foliage above her.

Sensing they’d said all they had to say, Brit prepared herself to sit up, to stand, and to walk away. This time, it would be forever. When she’d kicked Alex out of her apartment they’d been angry and hurt, and Brit had hoped it was just temporary and Alex would come to her senses. They’d make up and carry on. This, though, was much different. They were both harder now, and Brit supposed they were wiser, too.

Understanding that they’d talked the topic to death, Brit knew it was time to say good-bye. But what if she didn’t? What if she said something else, words that might open a window instead of closing a door? What in the world did she have to lose? Alex was already gone. Nothing else mattered.

Still on her back, with her eyes closed and her heart shut to all the world except Alex, Brit spoke. “Alex, if you admit that you weren’t thinking clearly, can you possibly understand that I wasn’t either?”

Perhaps it was the sound of Alex moving, but Brit thought it was actually a feeling that told her Alex was beside her, as if the electrical charge of the atmosphere suddenly changed, causing her skin to tingle.

“What exactly are you asking?”

Unsure if she’d really heard the words, or just imagined them, Brit opened her eyes, and sure enough, there was Alex, beside her, watching her expectantly, awaiting a reply.

“Can we try again?” Brit whispered.

Alex closed her eyes. This was all she’d wanted for so long. She’d wanted Brit from the moment she saw her, and she still did. The months they’d been friends had been some of the happiest of Alex’s life, surpassed only by the months they’d been lovers. Could they work out their issues and forget the pain they’d caused each other? Alex had no idea. But she never would if she didn’t at least try. She had to try. She owed it to Brit, and she owed it to herself.

She said nothing, though, because she feared her voice would crack before she could give it life. So, in answer, she simply took Brit’s hand and squeezed it, then placed it below hers, right over her heart.

What a Difference a Year Makes

Brit could hear her phone ringing as she stood before the bathroom mirror, struggling to corral her unruly mass of hair into a thick band of elastic. It was early, but she had so much work to do to prepare for the summer, to get the beach house ready for the summer invasion. She was living the dream, spending the summer in Rehoboth Beach, and she had a
girlfriend
. Alex. She and Alex were dating again.

Brit knew where she wanted her relationship with Alex to go. Perhaps it was frustration, or insecurity, or inexperience, or perhaps it was something else altogether that had caused her to doubt Alex at the first possible chance. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she—Brit—was different, now. She’d loved, and she’d lost, and she’d wept and mourned over what she’d had and what might have been. Miraculously, she’d been given another chance with Alex, and this time, she wouldn’t blow it. She’d treasure Alex and talk to her more about her feelings and insecurities. She’d trust her.

“Brit, your phone is ringing,” Alex said through the closed door.

“I know. I’ll call them back.”

“It says
Mom
on the caller ID.”

Brit opened the bathroom door and looked at Alex, whose worried expression surely must have mirrored her own. Why would her mother be calling? Of the multitude of possible reasons, all of them involved death or dismemberment. Not a single word had passed between them since Christmas, and Brit had started to become used to life without her mom. Her relationships with her sisters were strained, because of course they were worried about pissing off their mother. Her dad really didn’t care who he offended, so they were getting along better than ever. Her mother, though, had been stonewalling, and this call was the last thing Brit expected as she prepared to celebrate the Memorial Day holiday at the beach with her friends.

Brit accepted the proffered phone and quickly slid her thumb across the screen. Neither she nor Alex moved as she spoke. “Mom, hi. What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call my own child?” her mom asked, and Brit felt the months disappear. Nothing about Joan’s arrogance had changed. Yet, still, her mother had called her, and unless she was delivering a death announcement, that was progress.

“Well, nothing has to be wrong. It’s just that you haven’t called me in six months, so I’m just assuming the worst.”

“Five months, Britain. It’s been five months. It won’t be six months until June twenty-fifth, which brings me to the point of my phone call.”

Brit was holding her breath, and Alex had walked her into the bedroom and was now holding her, which was good, because Brit was more than a little shaky. She still had no idea what was going on. She tried to lean back into Alex’s embrace, but it was impossible to relax until she knew what trouble lay ahead.

Her mother wasted no time in telling her. “For the past twenty-two years, I’ve made your birthday cake with my own hands. And as long as my heart is beating in my chest, I intend to continue that tradition. So I’m calling to make plans for your birthday.”

Brit’s birthday was still a month away. She and Alex were down for the weekend to help prepare the house for the summer, but as soon as school was out, they’d be back for good. “Mom, I’m staying at the beach this summer. I’ll be here for my birthday.”