“All I have is a name and the dates she was hospitalized,” I tell her.
She looks at the cash again, then turns to her computer. “I’ve never done it this way before, but let’s give it a try.”
“Addaline Grace is the name,” I say, “and she was here from September twenty-ninth to October first.”
She pounds at the keys for a minute. “Okay, I’ve got it.” She looks back at me. “I can’t release any information, including the amount of the charges,” she says with a squint, obviously still questioning whether I’m in my right mind.
I hand her the cash. “Well, I know it’s a lot more than this, so can you just apply it to her balance?”
She takes it and counts it out, then looks up at the computer and plugs in an amount.
“Your name?” she asks.
“Um…can I just make it anonymous?”
Her face screws tighter in frustration. “I don’t know how to do that.”
She calls over a co-worker and the two of them figure out how to enter an anonymous cash payment and print out a receipt that has no info on it except the amount paid.
I walk out feeling a little better about myself.
Until I get to school and my body reacts when I see Addie in her Speedo. She’s at the pool’s edge talking to some of her younger teammates about reading the shooter.
It’s been two weeks since her fall and her shiner has faded, just a hint of yellow in the crescent below her eye. The bandages are gone and when her hair’s down, like on Friday, she’s able to hide the wisps of hair growing back around her ear and the damage underneath.
I shudder, remembering the sensation of those curls twisted into my fingers—how soft they were…all the raw need shining out of her eyes as she stared into mine. I feel like, even though I managed to find some deep reservoir of control inside myself and nothing happened, we’ve reached a point of no return. There’s no way she didn’t feel how desperately I wanted to kiss her. And I know, if I had, she would have let me. So, with that line crossed, the only question now is how far over it I’m willing to go.
She turns to me as her teammates jump into the pool and I try to read her expression. Her face is flushed and though I can tell she’s trying to rein it back, there’s a mix of anticipation and need swirling the gray of her eyes into a summer storm.
“You ready to get back in the pool?” I ask.
She nods. “I was going to take some laps after practice if the cage will be open.”
“I had something to do earlier, so I’m swimming after practice.” A grin I can’t control spreads over my face. “I’ll go easy on you. Don’t want a matching set,” I say, touching the skin under my eye.
She turns for the pool. “I’m all for symmetry.”
It’s been nearly a week since I announced Addie as captain and the truth is, she’s a better assistant coach than I ever would have guessed. I’ve basically given her the reins and let her run with them.
Corinne seems to have come around, and instead of fighting Addie, she’s actually helpful. Which makes me uneasy. After all the time she’s spent trying to get my attention and coming onto me, I can’t help but think she’s got an agenda. But all the underclassmen are starting to look to Addie for direction, and she’s totally stepped up. Once she’s back in the water, this team will be unstoppable.
After the team warms up, we separate them into scrimmage squads. I let Addie set up the situational drills as I settle onto the bleachers. When she determines they’re good to go, she comes over and sits next to me.
“Learn to play guitar,” she says.
I just look at her. “Um…I already know how.”
Her eyebrows go up. “You do?”
“Yeah. Blaire and I decided to learn together. She sort of blew it off when she started with the poetry thing in junior high.”
“But you stuck with it?”
I laugh, thankful that it seems like we’re back to ourselves after the awkwardness of Friday. “Thought I was going to be the next Stevie Ray Vaughn.”
“And here you are,” she says with a loose gesture at the pool, “living your dream.”
I lounge back and rest my elbows on the bleacher behind us, stretching my legs and crossing them at the ankles. “Doesn’t get any better.”
“I really meant I wanted to add that to our bucket list,” she says, turning her attention back to the scrimmage.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and type it in. “I can help you with that, and you can find me new foods.”
“Deal,” she says, hooking her elbows on the bleacher and leaning back next to me. “So, what else do you have for the list?”
“Sail around the world,” I say, typing it into my phone.
“You think that’s realistic?” she asks. “I mean, are you ever really going to actually try to do that?”