"Team dinner this Friday," Alex informs us at the end of our game on Tuesday. I love the way he often speaks in sentence fragments, as if he can't be bothered to tidy up the thought with extra words. He's poking at something on the iPad as he spells out the details of our dinner.
"Instead of practice?" Ariya asks, hopeful.
"After practice," Alex corrects her, unamused. Several girls giggle.
I let my mom and dad know about the dinner during our drive home from the game.
"Sounds fun, sweetie," Mom says. "Dad can pick you up if I'm still at my equity meeting, or just grab a ride home with one of the girls."
"Okay."
"Who's been dropping you off after practice on Fridays, by the way?" Mom inquires.
Shit! I have been avoiding the decision about whether to mention my carpool buddy to Mom and Dad, so I'm unprepared for this question, which means I'm about to royally screw up this conversation.
The decision is already pre-made, however, because I am incapable of lying to my parents.
"My coach has been dropping me off. So what happened is I actually forgot I needed a ride the first week, and by the time I realized it, everyone had left except the coaches." The breezy explanation floats off my lips with shocking smoothness.
"Your coach Steve?" Mom clarifies, sounding surprised but not concerned.
"No, Alex. He lives this same direction, so he said he can just drop me off on Fridays." I'm grateful that dusk is falling and I'm in the backseat, thus less exposed for this interrogation.
"Hm," Mom replies with a "pondering" sort of tone. "I doubt the school condones coaches driving students in their vehicles. Maybe you should get a ride with one of your teammates."
"I guess," I answer, with my best effort at nonchalance.
"I don't think I would have condoned you riding alone with a male coach, either, had I known about this sooner." Mom's voice is even, and I'm relieved she isn't reacting more harshly. I am eighteen—an "adult," technically—but we both know I'm naïve and inexperienced in most aspects of life.
Before bed, I see Alex has texted me:
I can still drive you home, after the team dinner.
With a winking emoji.
* * *
After practice on Friday, most of us shower and change into fresh clothes for our team outing. A year or two ago, there is no way I would have showered in the school locker room. Although I'm far from comfortable doing it now, I recognize that I've made some progress.
I would be dreading this dinner, except for the fact that I'll be able to steal glances at Alex all evening.
I change into my new favorite outfit, a multi-colored spring dress my Tía Leti brought for me from a well-known Latino market in L.A.
The girls are all gossiping, blow-drying their hair, putting on makeup and primping for the evening. If I'm being honest, I find the whole scene supremely annoying.
"Think Alex will like this dress?" Beck asks coyly, turning around in the mirror. Her cleavage is bulging out of the top.
My heart stops beating.
"Oh my God, shut up about him already," scolds Kelsey, rolling her eyes. "He's way older than us."
Way older?
YOU ARE READING
A New Reflection
Ifjúsági irodalomNatalia Stevens is smart, nice and shy-and this is exactly how everyone sees her. Even day-to-day conversations with friends and classmates are difficult, and guys certainly don't pay her any attention. During her senior year, Nati begins to notice...
