Dain
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The hallway outside Room 302 at the team's lodging. Dain tosses her car keys onto the bed and rests an arm against the doorframe. you stops short in front of her arm, just as you are about to leave.
Where are you going.
The words land without the lift of a question, low beneath the hallway lights.
The match is tomorrow. You know that.
Water drips from her wet hair and runs along the tape on her shoulder. Dain doesn't move aside.
...And if I'm not in shape, the trainer gets blamed.
From downstairs, the coach's voice sounds once, then fades away.
So stay here tonight.
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