Chapter 44.
The bus is here, so all of our teammates are lining up, backpacks on their shoulders, as duffel bags get dropped for the driver to load in the luggage compartment under the bus.
Team building starts now, with our weekend trip to Bear Lake.
I take my spot at the end of the line and make it a point not to look for her.
She may be in line. She may not be here at all.
I've come to terms with it over the last couple months.
I was taken off guard when she showed up here in May, but now I'm ready. I've prepared for it. She'll be here somehow, somewhere, and it will be okay.
I will be okay.
We will be teammates again and nothing else.
It will be on my own terms.
I see Emmett, rushing down the hill to meet us—late as per usual. I'm not the only one who notices. Rosalie's eyes follow him as he takes the spot next to me.
"Morning, babe," he says, his eyes hidden behind his Ray-Bans.
"Where were you?" I ask softly as he clasps a hand on my shoulder.
"Last Bear Lake retreat." He ignores my question, shaking me slightly. "You good?" he asks, the words tumbling out all in one breath. "Swan here yet?"
I shrug in response as we follow the stream of students to the bus in silence.
Right before we make it to the door, and stop in front of Rose, Emmett takes off his shirt and swings it over his shoulder.
Rose rolls her eyes swiftly, pen clicking as she checks us in on her clipboard.
"Morning, Coach!" Emmett says, leaning with one hand onto the bus, over her shoulder, his body inches from hers.
"Put your shirt back on." There isn't an ounce of playfulness in her tone as she grabs his shirt and smacks it to his chest, pushing him back.
"But it's hot!" Emmett complains, laughing, as we get ushered inside.
It's the familiar back-and-forth he typically tries to get her into. Except this time, I see the tension under Emmett's cool facade.
His demeanor quickly shifts as we enter the bus, his shoulders sagging a little as he puts his shirt back on. I clasp a commiserating hand on his back. There's been something going on between him and Rose, and while I try to stay out of it the best I can, I know my friend is struggling.
Any words of sympathy die in my throat, suddenly, as I find the source of my own torments, sitting in the second row.
Bella's eyes meet mine as I climb aboard the bus, and she smiles, scooting to the window and moving her backpack onto her lap, making space—for me.
I politely nod at her, but follow Emmett to the back, trying my best to avoid noticing how her smile disappears from her face.
My own terms, I tell myself. It's better this way.
When Rosalie is the last to enter, she says a few words.
Teammates. Family.
Hard work. Pays off.
The usual.
Her eyes keep checking on Emmett, who just stares out the window. My own eyes wander too, to the back of the seat I know Bella's sitting on, too short to actually be seen from where I am. When she peeks her head over the seat and catches me, I look at anything else but her.
Then, we take off.
When Emmett sighs for the third time in a row, I elbow him.
"What?!" He removes his earphones, turning to look at me.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"I think you should stop torturing Coach," I whisper, leaning closer to him. The bus is loud behind us, and music is playing from the speakers, but there are still too many ears around us.
"If anyone is being tortured here, it's me," he whispers back, pressing his fingers on his chest.
It's hard seeing Emmett this way, but the bus is clearly not the place to talk about it, so I sigh and move back to my spot.
I have no idea what happened between them—if something even happened, that is. In the past couple of years, they've gotten closer, that much is obvious. I don't think Rosalie would go as far as to get involved with a student, even if it is Emmett, but his infatuation with her has only grown stronger.
We've connected too, Rosalie and I, especially after everything that happened with Bella, but my relationship with Rosalie is nothing but professional. Coach and student—colleagues—if anything. She respects me and cares about me and my progress. She's like an older sister to me.
She definitely cares about Emmett as well, but in a different way altogether.
Emmett stays quiet the rest of the way. I know he'll talk when he's ready. Or when there are fewer ears around us.
It takes two and a half hours to get to Bear Lake and the three-story cabin-style house that sits right on the blue waters. It fits our whole team as it sleeps forty-five people and is equipped with a hot tub, gym, and theater room. We've come here the past two summers, for team bonding—to get to know each other before training starts.
Our team streams out of the bus and into the house, racing to snag the best rooms. The rookies take the bunk beds. Seniors get the doubles. Coach and the rest of the staff get the single rooms.
I'm not sure where Bella would be, but I make it a point not to wonder about it regardless.
Emmett still seems a little off but doesn't say anything until we're in our room.
"I broke up with Vicky for her," he says as he throws his bag on the bed.
"Is that really why you broke up with Vicky?"
Emmett looks at me, knowing I'm right. "No, but still." He sighs, sitting on the bed.
I chuckle a little, shaking my head.
They broke up shortly after Bella left. I had apparently said something to him that made him realize he had never felt a certain way about Vicky. And that he was ready for more. How did that turn into him pursuing Rosalie? I don't know.
"She's divorced now. And nothing? Nothing! It's been two fucking years." He drops his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"It's tricky," I try. "She's your coach."
"Fuck that." He props himself up on his elbows, looking at me. "I told her I would transfer schools."
This news surprises me. I'd hate that. "To where?"
"I don't fucking know. I don't care." His shrug is forced. He does care.
"Is that what you really want?"
"No." He groans, dropping his back on the mattress. "What I really want is her."
"You, my friend, are royally screwed." I sit on my bed, rubbing my neck, feeling a little tense.
It's silent for a while, until Emmett sighs. "You don't see how she looks at me."
"Oh, I do."
"Or how good it is when we talk, when we're together—alone. Even if she tries her best to end those moments quickly."
"With good reason."
He grabs his pillow, hugging it to his chest. "She gets me. She's—"
"Ten years older than you."
Emmett sits up, throwing his pillow at me. "I'm going to punch you in the face, babe."
"All right…" I lift my hands up in surrender as I chuckle. "I'm sorry."
"She says she doesn't want to do to me what Roy did to her…or any of the others." Emmett's words are loaded with spite.
I cringe at the mention of Rosalie's ex.
Things weren't pretty with their divorce, especially with all the things that came out in court, and all the allegations that have piled on him since, some which are still pending.
"I mean, if you think about it, she was fifteen when she met Roy." I can see the anger bubbling under Emmett's skin. "He was almost forty, and also her coach. That's…not right."
"It's disgusting is what it is." Em leaves the bed, pacing between us. "But I'm twenty-two years old. I know what I fucking want."
It sucks, it really does, and I feel for him, but I don't see how he'll change Rosalie's mind.
Emmett wears a hole in the floor as he strides back and forth in our room, until he stops in front of me, hands on his hips. "She's thirty-two, and her whole life, all she's had is crusty old dick."
I laugh, but when I look up, I notice that his eyes are watering. I don't think I've seen him cry in years. Not since we were kids.
"I'm fucking in love with her, and I haven't even kissed her yet. Not really…" He resumes his pacing, stopping by the window next. "Not without her pushing me back as soon as my lips touched hers."
"Em…"
"I've never wanted anyone so much in my life." He leans on the window frame, while a hand covers his face. "I can't take another year of this."
"Would you really transfer schools though?" I'm off my bed, and I step closer to him, patting a hand on his shoulder.
"I don't know. I don't want to." His hands scrubs down his face until he looks over at me. "But she won't touch me while she's my coach—she's said as much. And she has the self-restraint of a monk. I'm going to spontaneously combust."
I cross my arms over my chest, leaning on the window as well and taking a deep breath. My fingers twitch. I'm not looking forward to trying to stay away from Bella either.
It's going to be a fun year.
"What would you do?" Emmett asks, eyebrow raised, as I turn to him.
"Me?"
"I know you're the 'play the long game' type of guy, but what would you do if you were me?"
"I…" I shrug, looking down. "I'm not so sure."
"Have you talked to Swan?" His shoulder touches mine with a friendly bop.
"There's really nothing to talk about." I push myself off the window, my back to him as I decide to occupy myself with unpacking my bag.
"Bullshit."
"It's the truth." I set my folded shirts on the bed then my shorts. "She left. She moved on with her life…and so did I."
"And now she's back." Emmett sits on my bed, messing everything up. "And you're still in love with her."
"I'm…not." I sigh, giving up.
"You're not with Lauren still, are you?"
I just shake my head in response. Lauren was very brief, and inconsequential.
"Then what's the issue?"
"There's no issue." I shrug, looking at him briefly, hoping to sound convincing. "I want to focus on Daytona. I want to win the championship on our last go at it."
"And our chances just got so much better with Swan on the team."
"I guess, yeah…"
"You should talk to her. Hear her out, at least."
"I can't," I say softly. "I can't put myself through that again." It feels like I just got over her—made my peace with it. I went on with my life like I never knew her. Like I hadn't found her and lost her. I can't open that wound up again. Not when it's started to finally heal.
Emmett lifts from the bed, patting my shoulder as he moves past me. "I guess we're both screwed then."
I guess we are.