Christen's POV

My phone rings for the third time today, and I ignore it just like the previous two. I don't want to talk to anyone. My hotel door opens behind me. "Hey I got breakfast," says Tobin softly.

I force a smile. "You're the best."

"I know." She grins cheekily and hands me a container of food. I open it but I don't have an appetite. I pick at the food with a plastic fork. My phone pings with another text. Tobin looks between me and my phone, but I focus on the food I have no intention of eating.

"Chris," she starts off tentatively. I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't. I look up. Her face is so worried it makes me anxious. I'm not sure what to say, so I bite my cheek instead. "As your best friend . . ." The more she hesitates, the more I want her to spit it out. The flips my stomach are doing make me sick. She sighs. "Carli and Hope are worried sick about you."

I flinch at their names. I don't like thinking about them, and Tobin tries not to mention them. At least she used to not mention them. "I don't want to talk about them," I mumble.

The midfielder shakes her head. "You can't hide forever."

"Why not?" I mumble, closing the container and tossing it on the bedside table. "Sounds like I great idea."

"You're being ridiculous," she says teasingly

"Am not," I argue. "My life's already over."

Her smirk drops from her face. "Chris—"

I groan and cover my face with my hands. "Don't. Seriously. I don't want to talk about it."

There is another tense pause. Suddenly, Tobin shoots across the room and walks straight to the balcony doors. She slides the curtains open. Sunlight fills the room. "I'd be a terrible friend if I let you mope for the rest of your life."

"Then please be a terrible friend."

"Let's go!" She shouts, rummaging through my suitcase. Before I can protest, she throws my bathing suit at me. "We're going to the beach." The beach is right downstairs since the hotel is on it. Before we can cross the boardwalk and reach the sand, Tobin points to a shop. "Let's rent some boards."

"No way. You can," I say, playing with the strap of my bikini.

She pouts. "It'll be fun!" She whines. "Please."

"No. I'm just gonna lay on the beach and say goodbye to my soccer tans."

"Fine," she sighs. I follow her into the surf shop. She looks at dozens of rental boards. She narrows her choices to two but can't commit. She murmurs, "I'll choose when we check out." We move to the rash guards since she didn't bring one. She holds one up against me.

"I'm not surfing," I state.

She rolls her eyes. "I know that. I just want to see it in a different perspective," she says with a smirk. She drapes two over her arm. "I like these two."

We move to checkout. She grabs some board wax and adds it to her purchase. Before I can realize what she is doing, Tobin has already rented two boards and bought two guards. "I hate you," I say as we leave the store.

She grins cheekily. "You're gonna have the time of your life."

She was so wrong. I push myself onto the board after another failure.

"You know the point is to stay on the board, right?" Tobin jokes.

I splash her. "You're hilarious," I mutter sarcastically.

She smiles. "Chris, you need to relax. You're too tense." The bobbing of a wave knocks Tobin off her board. She bursts out of the water, sputtering water and laughing. "See? We're having fun!"

"Speak for yourself," I scoff. I lay on my stomach and paddle, so she can't see the grin on my face. I give up on trying to catch a wave, so I lay on my board instead. The sun starts to set. I don't realize how chilly the water is until I see the blue tint on Tobin's lips. "I think it's time to go in." I shiver, my teeth chattering.

She nods in agreement. She catches a wave back to shore, and I trail behind. We dry off and make our way to our room. I shower while Tobin takes our boards back. I get out and settle on my bed. A couple minutes later, Tobin gets back and takes her turn. I nuzzle into my pillows with a book.

My phone dings and I glance at the screen. It is filled with notifications showing missed calls and unread texts. I wish I could know how everyone really felt about my performance at the Olympics. The heaviness of our loss still weighs me down. If I hadn't screwed up, we'd be on our way to gold.

My phone rings. With shaky fingers, I pick it up and answer the call. "Hello?" I croak.

"Chrissy?" I hear my youngest sister exclaim. "Is that really you?" There is yelling in the background. "You shut up!" I hear shuffling and scuffling.

I hear Julie harshly whisper, "I called you and texted you ten times more than Mal and you answer her?"

Mal whines in the background. I sigh. "Put the phone on speaker, Jules."

There is a pause. "You're on speaker."

I'm not sure what to say. My mouth opens but nothing comes out. Mal exclaims, "Everyone's at Mommy's house! Are you coming too?"

"Mallory, you're gonna wake Mom and Mama," Julie snaps.

I can almost see Mal's grin drop. "Don't you wanna talk to them?"

"It's complicated," I sigh. I turn over so I'm laying on my stomach horizontal across the bed. My feet swing over the edge.

Julie snorts, "Not really."

I roll my eyes. "I don't remember asking you."

More silence and it kills me. If I hadn't screwed up in Rio, we wouldn't be like this. I would be with them snuggled up and watching a movie. A door opens on the other side. Muffled conversation ensues but I can't hear anything. "Come home," Alex sighs from across line. "Please. Everyone is . . . everything is just really hard right now."

The shower turns off. "I know." I massage my temples. Tobin comes out of the bathroom in fresh clothes. She heads to her suitcase.

"You don't know," Alex murmurs. "Seriously Chris. Mom-um-well . . ."

"Mom what?"

"M-Mom lost her job," Julie says quietly.

The phone falls out of my hand and drops to the floor. Tobin rushes over, jumping beside me. I'm in shock. I can't move or speak. I can barely think. Her hand rests on my back. "What's wrong?" Tobin asks.

The other three call through my phone, asking if I'm still here. I sit up and hold my head in my hands. My chest tightens. I start to cry and nothing Tobin says works to calm me down. "It's all my fault," I murmur.

"It's not your fau—"

"It is! Mom-Hope lost her job, Tobs. If I hadn't missed that shot, if I hadn't missed that shot." I break down into sobs. I feel like I'm back in Rio with the Brazilian sun blazing down. My heart beats erratically as I step up to the ball. This entire game is on me, and I send the ball sailing over the crossbar.

"Christen Annemarie Press," Mom's voice says sternly from my phone. The tan midfielder leans over the bed and hands it to me. "Are you there? It's Mom and Mama."

"Mhm," I hiccup. I wait for her to yell at me to quit, to drop everything because I failed her, Mama, and the team.

"You are not the reason we lost. We are a team. We all contributed to that result. No one will hate you for one missed PK," Mom insists. I gulp for air, tears still streaming down my cheeks. "Take deep breaths. Copy me, CP."

I mimic her slow breathing. I relax, clutching to my phone like it's my lifeline. "It was Mal's first Olympics."

"I don't hate you, Chrissy," Mal pipes up from the background.

Mom continues, "I make my own decisions. Even Mama and I make mistakes. You had no part in what I shouldn't have said. That was all me and I was wrong. I love you no matter what. Your Mama and sisters and teammates love you no matter what."

Part of me doesn't believe her. I know that if we won that tournament, Mom wouldn't have said those things. There is no way of changing her point of view and she can't change mine. I can accept the way she looks at it. I am relieved she isn't holding it against me. A weight is lifted off my chest.

Mama says, "We love you very much Christen Annemarie, but we do not appreciate you going MIA."

"I'm sorry," I sniffle. I just want to cuddle into her, but I'm in a completely different state.

Mama shouts through the phone, "And Tobin Powell, I don't appreciate you keeping you and my daughter's whereabouts unknown!"

Tobin must have gotten up during my breakdown because she was on her bed with her laptop. She visibly pales, looking scared out of her mind. "Mama!" I scold. "Don't yell at her. I told her to. Don't get on her for being a loyal friend."

I can hear Mama grumble on the other side. "You better watch yourself, Heath," she warns.

Tobin croaks, "Yes Ma'am."

I giggle and it feels good after crying for so long. "Don't think I'm done with you, young lady. We need to have a talk about you disappearing, but I don't want to do it over the phone."

"And we want to see you to make sure you are in fact safe and sound," Mom adds.

Tobin gets up and shuts her laptop. She throws my stuff into my suitcase and shouts, "You are packed. Your ticket is booked. An Uber will pick you up. And I have a backup friend who doesn't suck at surfing."

I chuck a pillow at her. I grin and ask into my phone half seriously, "Am I in trouble?"

"Get on the plane, Christen. We will see you in Seattle," Mama sighs, but I can hear the smile in her voice. She hangs up.

I roll off my bed and hug Tobin. "Thanks, Tobs. You're seriously the best," I say into her shoulder.

She hugs me back and smirks. "I know. Now hurry up so you can catch your flight. You don't wanna make your Moms wait any longer."

I agree and grab my luggage. Seattle, Washington, here I come.

A/N: Guys thanks for being so patient!! My sweet little co writer actually wrote this for me because I've been so busy! Last month of school was really stressful and then I went on a trip for Memorial Day and then I went a visited family and had a bad wifi situation and I was driving all over the place and then I had youth camp which was amazing!! I love you guys!