“Hey what?”
Caitlin yelled at the top of her lungs as well, giggling at the old rhyme. For a moment, she even forgot about Jeremy. But then it all came thundering back. She reached into her pocket for her phone. He still hadn’t called.
The girls stopped on the quad to catch their breaths. Then, a rumble of footsteps and male voices bounced off the school buildings. The boys’ soccer team rounded the corner, running in formation. Josh was in point position at the front. Caitlin gazed at him for a moment. He met her eyes and cocked his head a little. That’s when Caitlin realized. If anyone could tell she was upset, it would be him. She turned away, embarrassed.
“Okay, let’s hit the locker room next for the Kool-Aid treatment,” Caitlin told the team, trying to sound chipper. She faced the new girls. “Babies,” she called out in a thunderous voice. “Get in formation. It’s time to put on your diapers for your Kool-Aid bath!”
The girls groaned and laughed. Caitlin marched after them, but then she felt someone touch her shoulder. She whirled around. Josh was standing behind her.
“Hey.” His tone was cool, but he was studying her face carefully.
“Hey,” she replied awkwardly. She kept her face turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t get a good glimpse of her puffy eyes.
“You all right?”
Caitlin was surprised by the real concern in his voice. She swallowed hard. “Sure,” she said stiffly. “I’m perfect.”
Josh crossed his arms over his chest and kept his eyes on her. “Come on. What’s up?”
Caitlin felt a welling of emotion in her chest. Why was Josh being so nice to her when she had hurt him so badly? She shrugged. “Just dumb stuff. Nothing major.”
“Is it Jeremy?” he said quietly. He waited patiently, staring at her.
Caitlin’s hands flew to her face and she covered her eyes for a second. “Yes. It’s Jeremy. He’s . . . he’s mad at me. I forgot about the team thing, and he had gotten us tickets to a concert, and he was going to surprise me. And now he’s really, really pissed. I feel terrible.”
She peeked at him, expecting him to roll his eyes and say she got what she deserved, but instead, Josh just shrugged. “Is he mad you bailed on him, or mad you’re doing a soccer thing?”
Caitlin frowned. “I don’t know.” But Josh had a point. If she’d had to cancel on Jeremy because of something else—a family commitment, or something with school—would he have hung up on her? It was like soccer was his trigger.
Josh sighed. “The thing about Jeremy is he sees things in black and white. You’re either this person”—Josh jerked his thumb in the direction of their teams—“or you’re that person. You can’t be both.”
Caitlin’s mouth hung open. It was actually true. And it surprised her how he’d put it: not in a disparaging way, but simply matter-of-fact. Jeremy was Jeremy.
“You’re the captain,” Josh went on. “You had to do this for the team. If he cares about you, he’ll understand.”
He held her gaze for another moment, then turned away and called “Move it on out!” to his team. “We need to paper the tops of those trees, where the girls couldn’t reach.”
The boys laughed and high-fived one another, and the girls good-naturedly booed and catcalled. “Caitlin, let’s go,” Ursula called out from across the field. “Locker rooms, now.”
“One sec,” Caitlin called back, her eyes still on Josh. She wanted to thank Josh for what he’d just told her—and how nice he’d been, especially given the circumstances. He had moved past the math building and was climbing a massive tree, a roll of toilet paper jammed into his shorts pocket. She wandered over there and watched as he unrolled the streamer of paper to decorate the branches. The paper was so light that it got picked up by a slight breeze and blew back toward him.
Then he looked down and saw her. “Oh,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say that—” Caitlin started. She swallowed hard. “You’re really . . .”
“What’s that?” Josh tilted toward her to hear her better. Their eyes met. Josh gave her the old smile he used to save only for her. Caitlin’s heart did a flip.
But suddenly, she heard a sharp crack of wood.
“Shit,” Josh yelped, the branch beneath him snapping. His hands flailed to grab another branch, but his fingers closed on a clump of leaves instead. They tore away in his hand, and all at once he was falling hard out of the tree and onto the grass below. He landed with a sickening thud just a few feet from where Caitlin stood.
Caitlin screamed and raced to his side, her heart beating like a drum. His eyes were closed. He looked hurt. This was her fault. “Josh?” she cried, her voice tinged with tears. “Are you okay?”
Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. “I—I’m fine,” he said weakly. He sat up and looked at her, a dazed look on his face. “I think it’s my ankle.”