“All right all right, go on, shower time! Go!” he said, laughing.
*****
Leena and I felt like we were walking on air all the way out of the locker room. We had given each other so many hugs that I'd lost count.
“I still can't believe it,” I chimed once more, and I saw that the smile on her face was as broad as the one on mine.
“Right?!” she exclaimed. “We made it! We really made it!”
“But we can't simply rest on our laurels now, can we? This is just one rung on the ladder, and we still have a long way to climb, right?” I preached.
“Totally right. Like Wade said, this is a very important game coming up,” she said. “If we can get off to a good start with a strong win against Miami, I think it'll set a good tone for the rest of the season.”
“And, of course, we want to show Wade that he made the right choice by including us in the starting lineup,” I added. “So that means we totally have to put in like…110 percent effort.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
We gave each other one more hug as we reached our cars. “We're going to have to do something to celebrate later when we both get back to the apartment,” I said. “This is big, it really is.”
“Agreed. I'll pick up a bottle of champagne, and we can pop it in celebration.”
I grinned. “That sounds just perfect.”
“All right, it's on then! See you later tonight.”
I said goodbye to Leena and got in my car, still feeling overjoyed at the good news. I was headed to my mom's place. I had to tell her the good news in person – a phone call just wouldn't do. I knew how happy she would be, and I wanted to see that happiness in person.
As I was driving, a Nirvana track started to play, and I couldn't help but think of Wade. It was all thanks to him that I had made the starting lineup. Well, not entirely due to him. I mean, I sure as hell had put in a ton of hard work to get this far – but it really was awesome to finally have a coach who made fair decisions and choices based solely on our playing abilities and not...other factors.
I couldn't help but think of how we’d had such a good time together over the weekend. Snorkeling had been such an amazing experience. It had been like traveling to another planet – and he had been right by my side, for the whole thing. Sharing an experience like that with him was more than I had imagined it would be.
Naturally, there was an unspoken understanding between us that things could not go past a certain point. He was my coach. I couldn't jeopardize my spot on the team – and indeed, my whole university career – for, well, for whatever it was that was stirring between us.
I decided not to think about it too much or overanalyze it. All I wanted right now was to enjoy this moment. I reached my mom's place, parked the car in a safe spot, and hurried inside. The anticipation of telling her the news was just overwhelming.
I used my key to open the door and immediately knew that something was off; there was a burning smell coming from the kitchen.
“Mom!?” I shouted. “Something burning? What's going on, are you here?”
There was no reply, only silence. Worry began to creep through me. I rushed into the kitchen and found a pot of pasta on the stove, smoke rising from the pot; all the water had long been boiled away, and the pasta was turning into a black, charred mess at the bottom. I pulled it off the stove and turned it off before it got any worse.
“Mom! What's going on?” I shouted, my anxiety rising by the second.
I rushed to the bathroom, but there was nobody there. Then I ran into her bedroom and almost screamed. She was lying face down on the floor, motionless. My heart started to race as I ran over and knelt next to her.
I almost had a panic attack as I assumed the worst until I saw that she was still breathing. Shallowly, yes, but still breathing. She was out cold, though, and her nose was bloody from where it had hit the ground. All I could gather was that she must have fainted.
“Mom, wake up, wake up!” I said frantically, shaking her body.
She wasn’t responsive. I knew I had to get her to the hospital, and I tried to pick her up, but she was just too heavy. Panic was overtaking me fast. I knew from past experience that if I called an ambulance, it would take them 30 minutes to arrive, if not longer. So I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed the first person I could think of who might be able to help me.
“Hi, Eryn!” he said, the sound of his voice bringing me a little comfort.
“Wade,” I said breathlessly, “this is an emergency, and I desperately need your help. Please, can you come now?”
“Tell me where you are, and I'll be there immediately.”
I told him the address and then crouched down next to my unconscious mother and started sobbing softly.