The Exchange

Chapter 9: Feelings on the Field

"Oh honey, I'm sorry."

At that moment, a new incoming call flashes on the screen with "Emma."

"Well speak of the devil, Emma's calling," I say wryly. "I'm going to take this, but we're all set for Toronto, tomorrow afternoon. I'll tell Matt so we can pack tonight."

"Alright, take care. Maybe talk to Ben if you have the chance to."

As Emma's voice begins to ring out, a quote from Hamlet pops into mind. Something along the lines of, I shall speak daggers but use none. Perhaps I would talk to Ben. Perhaps it would be better to get it out of my system in person rather than the way it had been left over the phone. Perhaps...I would wait until after the match.

"Hey what's up Em?"

"Ah I'm so sorry for leaving yesterday. Are you holding up okay?"

"Yeah sure," I snort. "I mean Ben is currently on the soccer field playing a match for Rookie Day."

"Really? Oh damn, right he'll be part of the team in September." I can imagine her mouth forming an o in surprise. "Well that's just plain bad luck."

"So nothing new," I deadpan with an inward groan. "God, of all places."

"Has he noticed?"

"Nope, I'm hiding at the back of the bleachers."

"Oh Hailey," Emma murmurs sympathetically. "You know, maybe you should confront him after the match. He deserves it, the basta-"

"Maybe," I sigh. "I don't want to start anything unnecessary."

"Well I say stick it in his face. You're happy now with Martin or whoever."

I roll my eyes at her attempt to make me feel better as a small smile crosses my lips.

"Matt."

"Same difference," she dismisses airily. "If Ben gives you any more stupid excuses, I'll shank him when he comes back to Toronto.

"Wow Em, when did you become so violent," I chuckle. "Though I appreciate the thought."

"Anytime, I've got your back."

"I'll keep that in mind."

With a click, I hang up and peer down at the soccer field below. My eyes dart back and forth between Ben running around enthusiastically and Matt observing the players, before I decide to pull out my book once again and busy myself with reading.

A few minutes after the final score count is called out on the field, a familiar voice sounds above me.

"So Hal babe, nice to see you again."

I look up to see Tanner sliding into the seat beside me and I frown, shifting a little to create some distance.

"Shouldn't you be down there?" 

As I scrunch my nose in thought, he follows my gaze to the field where a cluster of players surround Matt. He waves a hand dismissively in response and gives me a relaxed smile.

"It's fine, Dewchester's got it. You, on the other hand, look like you've taken a drink of sour milk. Or maybe strong vodka, but you don't seem like the type."

I sigh, my lips forming a thin line as I expel a breath I hadn't known I was holding during the match, while Tanner studies me with interest. He leans forward, arms against his knees as he clasps his hands together, and waits.  Holding up my book to show him the pages, I attempt to avoid conversation and return to reading. But he's persistent.