say don't go - katie mccabe

Chapter 5

Stepping into the changing room, my mind was surprisingly free of the usual pre-training nerves, skipping the anxiety over the tough workout and the post-exercise deep freezes. Instead, all I could think about was the talk I had to have with Katie about the events of last night—or was it technically this morning? Regardless, the timing didn't matter; we had some things to straighten out.

I knew Katie might try to sidestep the conversation, but hey, who wouldn't? Still, being the new face, it was crucial to make sure that my connections with my teammates off the pitch didn't have any issues so we could work better, as a team, on the pitch. Whether it was the awkward timing or potential discomfort, sorting things with Katie was a priority as I geared up for training.

The lingering anticipation of our future conversation weighed heavily on my mind, casting an unexpected shadow over my usual pre-training routine. As I meticulously laced up my boots, my gaze fixated on the door, my anticipation building with each entrance that failed to reveal her presence. A subtle disappointment would play on my features whenever someone other than her walked into the room. Just as I was on the brink of surrendering to the possibility of having our conversation before training she appeared. 

In the midst of Jen's laughter, provoked by some remark of hers, she made her entrance. However, the joy in her expression swiftly dissipated the moment her eyes met mine. Her laughter ceased abruptly, and her smile waned slowly.

Jen, perceptive to the shift in her attitude, cast curious glances between us. 

Unable to contain herself, she quipped, "What the hell happened between you two last night?"

"Nothing," Katie retorted defensively, shooting a death stare in Jen's direction.

Jen, unfazed by Katie's tone, chuckled to herself and tactfully exited the changing rooms, leaving us in a solitude accentuated by the absence of others who had already dispersed to the field, gym, or physio before Katie's arrival.

Seizing the moment, Katie broke the growing awkward silence. 

"I can tell you want to talk about it," she said, offering a faint smile that hinted at a willingness to address the unresolved tension.

"Yeah, sorry. I just don't want us to start off on the wrong foot, you know?" I expressed hesitantly, hoping to bridge the gap between us.

However, her smile quickly faded once again as she walked over to her cubby without uttering a word. Sensing the need for clarification, I stumbled over my words, attempting to convey my intentions.

"Sorry, was that the wrong thing to say? I just—" I began, seeking to salvage the moment.

"No, it's all good, Blake. I was obviously out of my head, and I'm sorry for what I said. I can barely remember, but it must have been nonsense, yeah?" Katie explained, retrieving her boots from her bag.

"No, but, Katie—" I attempted to interject.

"Okay, all good. That's settled," she interrupted briskly, turning to face me.

"Katie, wait—" I tried once more, but she swiftly cut me off.

"I've got to go get my ankle strapped. I'll see you on the pitch, yeah?" she declared, walking out of the changing rooms before I could fully comprehend the message she was conveying. 

As the door closed behind her, I lowered my head into my hands. Well great. She hates me.