NATHA
Coach Reyes blows the final whistle at four o'clock sharp.
While the rest of the team heads into the locker room loud and restless, talking about food and video games, I take my time at the sink. I scrub the field dirt and dried sweat from my forearms and face, pull on a clean grey hoodie, and pack my cleats into my gym bag.
Tyler catches the door on his way out, glancing over his shoulder. "We're grabbing burgers down on 4th. You coming?"
"Not today," I say, zipping the gear bag shut. "Got some stuff to take care of."
Tyler shrugs, let down but not arguing, and lets the door swing closed behind him. Two months ago, saying no to the group would have felt like committing social suicide. Today, it just feels like choosing where I actually want to be.
I sling the strap over my sho
