Page 31 of The Sweet Spot

I closed my eyes and tried to keep my emotions in check. Quirky was code for unpretty.

“I really think you should stop,” Jill said to Tangi.

“No. I want to hear it all,” I said, choking back my anger. “Could it be because I don’t have a killer bod? That I dye my hair different colors all the time? That I’m an activist for things like climate change, a women’s right to choose, and the right to health care? I’m just too radical, not drop-dead gorgeous, and too quirky?”

“I’m sorry, Wols. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

She looked sorry, and maybe deep down she was, but she wasn’t wrong. I also saw pity, and that was just too much.

“I forgot one thing,” I said. “I’m also not you.”

“Wols, don’t get upset over this. It’s stupid,” Jill said.

I shook my head, fighting back tears. “ I get it. And look, this isn’t even about Brandon. I’m not pining away for him. It’s about me and not being perfect enough for this,” I said, pointing to everyone in the room. “I’m not good enough.”

I grabbed my purse and slapped some money on the table. I had no idea if it was enough to cover my meal, but I was too upset to make sense of anything. I mumbled a goodbye and hurried out.

Chapter Seventeen

Brandon

Acloud was hanging over Wolseley’s head the next morning. More like a storm cloud and possible tornado. She looked sad and angry all at once, something so foreign when it came to her. She was always the bright spot in my day, so I had to get to the bottom of this. I hoped it had nothing to do with that Daniel asshole.

“You okay?” I asked, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Today was a training day, so I had a few extra hours before I had to be at the rink. Enough time to enjoy breakfast and not mind my own business.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“You don’t look fine.”

She was stirring what looked to be some kind of oats. She had a cut-up banana, strawberries, and blueberries in a small bowl. Next to that was an avocado, tomato, and some of her homemade bread.

“I am. I really am,” she said absently.

“You didn’t hang out last night after the game. Jill said you weren’t feeling well. Is that it?”

She looked up at me now, and her eyes seemed a little bloodshot. “Something like that. I’m fine now.”

I wanted to press, but I stopped myself. If she didn’t want to talk about it, I had to respect that. So instead, I sat down while she assembled an avocado toast for me, along with my hot cereal packed with a scoop of protein I couldn’t even taste. I devoured it all, watching her slowly clean up and pull out her notebook.

“I have a short day today,” I said. “Just some training. I have an idea. Why don’t I treat you to lunch instead of you making it?”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “But I have lunch planned,” she said, pointing to her notebook.

“Can’t you do it tomorrow? I bet there are some places you want to try. Let’s do that?”

I was pretty proud of myself for thinking of it. I had no doubt that taking her out to lunch would cheer her up.

“Um, okay,” she said reluctantly.

“Good. I should be home by one. You pick the place.”

We had a light training day, and with the season just around the corner, Coach Anthony had a lot of pep talks and videos for us to watch. The final roster had been selected, and Landon, my road trip roommate, had made the team, but I planned to keep my eye on him. The last thing the kid needed was to lose his spot.

I got home to find Wolseley at the kitchen island, furiously writing in her notebook. Life would be so much easier for her with a tablet, but other than her phone, I didn’t see her use much in the way of electronics. I was afraid to ask why andhave her launch into a long story about e-waste, even though I kind of loved her random stories.

“Hey,” I said.

She turned and smiled, but that cloud hadn’t lifted.