The Halo Effect

29 | damsels are depressed

Even though Win sounded and looked sincere, that wasn't enough for me.

"Sure you will," I drawled out my response before pausing again. It only took a moment for me to decide that I had something else to add. "Just don't let the little crush she has on you cloud your judgment. You can do better."

Win actually dropped his clipboard. "Christ," he muttered, swooping down to scoop it off the turf. When he straightened, he looked dead into my eyes and I bet he thought he saw absolutely nothing inside. "I forget that you're like this sometimes."

"What am I like sometimes?" I fired back. Now, was my previous comment immature and borderline conniving? Yes. But would it irrevocably impact me, causing me to regret doing it? Probably not. I needed to make a point.

Macallan intervened before Win could answer, setting a light hand on my arm. "Let's talk more later, Chan. Our parents are waiting-"

"Hold on," I brushed Macallan off, unhooking my arm. I knew she had the best intentions, but the we that she was referring to probably wouldn't include Win, and he wasn't going to get off the hook so easily. "I would really love to know what the honorable and objective editor-in-chief of the Cannondale Weekly has to say about me. So, go on, Win. I'm all ears."

Win's gaze shifted to Macallan for a moment, almost like he had to visibly weigh his options. What those options were, exactly, I couldn't be sure.

"Maybe another time, if you're lucky," Win answered, flicking rogue turf pellets off of his clipboard. His gaze noticeably softened when he turned to Macallan. "For what it's worth, Macallan, I think you should run. You'd make a great study body president."

As Win turned away, Macallan sent him the same little smile she'd given me earlier. "Thanks, Win. I'll think about it. I promise."

I didn't say anything to Win, but it was clear he wasn't going to wait around, anyway. He had no reason to, not when he'd claimed the moral high ground. As I watched him retreat through a haze of irritation, I noted that this was the second time that Win had approached Macallan about publishing something in the Cannondale Weekly.

Macallan exhaled a deep sigh, promoting me to redirect my attention. "How are you?"

I gave a short laugh and dropped my gear to the turf to retrieve my own black sweatshirt from my backpack. "How am I? I'm fine, Macallan. I promise I'm fine, but this-" I made a grand yet vague sweeping gesture. "Is so frustrating."

"That much is obvious to everyone."

"Hey," I frowned, tugging the sweatshirt over my head. My ponytail caught in the hood, and Macallan reached over to gently free it.

"Hey, yourself." Macallan sighed again, pushing some of the blonde flyaways away from her face. "Look, I'm sorry you had to put up with whatever crap Caroline imposed onto you, and I'm frustrated too. With everything. I'm done with feeling like some kind of depressed damsel in distress who needs her best friends, boyfriend, and the damn school to save her at every twist and turn. The truth is we're all just trying to keep it together. I mean, why do you think Kelsey's moved WAC meetings to every other week? It's becoming a lot for all of us, and you doing whatever you just did with Win doesn't help fix anything. He's actually one of the few people who's willing to take some sort of stand. You can see that, right?"

Macallan's words crash-landed on my shoulders, reinforcing that this wasn't a me problem that I got to keep all to myself. I wasn't the only one of us with baggage they wanted to bury in the ground and never dig up again. Not by a long shot.

"Right," I nodded, pursing my lips together. "What would I do without you around to keep me in line?"

"This isn't me keeping you in-line," Macallan objected, leveling me with a pointed yet simultaneously soft look. "This is me having your back on and off the field."