“Is that why you’re holding back?” McGinnis asks. His face is open, and he sounds sincere, but I’m not naive enough to think I’ve got the full picture when it comes to team dynamics. Not yet, anyway. “Are you afraid of hurting someone else?”
I make a mental note to look into the incident McGinnis referenced. It would be helpful to know what went down between Davis and Kristiansen in case it comes up again.
“I’m not holding back,” Kristiansen says, doubling down.
“All the same, I’d rather have you playing with us than against us.” McGinnis grins. “I’d love to play a more physical game, but it’s not something I was taught growing up.”
Not encouraged is more likely.
Kristiansen grunts. “I could probably teach you a few things after practice next week. At the very least, then you can defend yourself.”
“For real?” Kristiansen nods and McGinnis’s face lights up. “I knew I liked you.”
I scan the room, taking in all the tired faces. This was a good night. We made real progress.
“Great work tonight,” I say to the group. “The game didn’t go the way we wanted, but what you did here, in this room, is far more meaningful. If we can get this part right, the wins will follow.”
There are a few whoops, but these guys are exhausted and I can’t blame them for struggling to muster the energy for a rallying cry.
“I’ll get out of your hair so you can hit the showers, and I’ll see you all at practice on Monday.”
I say my goodbyes, and the guys begin the process of stripping off their gear, but before I can duck out, Knox approaches, his brilliant blue eyes brimming with hope.
“Does this mean you’re staying?”
It’s the million-dollar question. We made progress today, but that doesn’t mean things are going to be picture-perfect next week. We still have a lot of work to do and a long season ahead of us, which I guess answers the question.
“I’m going to stay.” I smile up at him, confident in my decision. “I think this team needs me just as much as I need them.”
With any luck, we’ll both find the success we’re looking for.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I offer Knox the empty toiletry bag. He shakes his head vehemently. “You can keep it.”
I roll my eyes. “Not you too.”
“You said it yourself. We’re a superstitious group.” He grins, but his voice is low when he speaks. “Are you going to be around for a while? Can I walk you to your car?”
My gaze slides to Davis, who still looks like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of before I call it a night.”
Knox follows my line of sight. “Take your time. I need to shower anyway.”
He returns to his stall, and I approach Davis. I typically prefer to speak with athletes one-on-one, even if it’s just to set up an appointment, but the locker room is noisy and no one is paying us any attention.
“Hey, Ollie.” I keep my voice low, my tone soft and breezy. “You were pretty quiet tonight. How are things going?”
He makes no move to get up, just stares up at me like a cornered animal, his knee bouncing frantically. “Everything’s fine.”
It’s so not fine. His body language is screaming the exact opposite, but I need to keep this light, so I offer him a reassuring smile. “Good. If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.”
His knee stops bouncing with what I suspect is Herculean effort. “I…I appreciate the offer, but like I said, I’m fine.”
I don’t know what’s up with him—maybe nothing—but I’m going to keep an eye out just the same. I haven’t forgotten about the anonymous snowball message, and if there’s someone on this team in distress, I want to get them the help they need.
“I’m glad to hear it, but if you change your mind, I’m always available.” I touch his biceps, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just say the word.”
“Thanks, Ava.” He stands suddenly and pulls off his shoulder pads, not meeting my eyes. “I’d better hit the showers. It’s been a long night.”
I watch him go, still mostly dressed, and my gut clenches with apprehension.