I saved us by keeping my feelings to myself. And that was my cross to bear.
At the end of another long day in the office with Sonia – two days out from our last session with Jason – I pack up my things and think about my plans for tonight… which are basically Luke and me at my hotel. Or Luke and me and Rob and Emma at the apartment while we play cards and get just buzzed enough to be smiley, but not so bad that we wake up dehydrated and ill.
The Stacked Deck tournament is just weeks away, a tournament I’d heard of even before coming to this town, but not something I’d given much thought to until it turns out I have a boyfriend who competes.
The fact he owns shares in this tournament, which at its most basic level is a thriving, multi-million-dollar company, is just a small detail that I don’t obsess over, lest I lose sleep over something I absolutely cannot control or predict.
And ask anyone who knows me – cough, cough, my mother – and she’ll tell you, ‘Ally likes control. She likes predictability and stability.’
Both Hart boys are competing this year, which means both of them are forgoing Friday night pizza, wings, and intoxication in the weeks leading up to fight night, and in place of those binges is protein and smart choices – with a side helping of ‘Let’s go steal shit’, or ‘It’s cold, let’s go make a bonfire… on property we do not own.’
“Do you have plans this weekend, Ally?” Sonia collects her used teacups from today, and places them on a tray to be washed overnight. She looks as beautiful as ever, regal and perfect even as she juggles dirty dishes and kicks the corner of the rug down to neaten it up as she passes. “Luke have anything special planned?”
I smile and poke through my purse in search of my phone and keys. “It’s funny, because I was just thinking about that.”
“Yeah?” She sets the tray on the very corner of her desk, and turning back, she gives me her full attention. “Why’s it funny?”
“Because I was thinking about a typical Friday night with Luke. He’s training for the tournament, so his eating and sleep patterns are much more structured now than they were a few months ago. But…”
Sonia’s lips twitch. “But?”
“But,” I continue, “he’ll probably still suggest we go out and do something illegal.” I laugh and shake my head. “It’s like he thinks of his rap sheet as a card that he needs to have punched each weekend. Like, if he does something stupid six weekends in a row, he might get a free corndog on the seventh.”
Chuckling, Sonia turns back to her desk and collects her things: phone, keys, bag. “I think you’re fairly on the money about him. But it’s not a corndog he’s aiming for. It’s just… life experience, do you understand?”
I nibble on my bottom lip and nod.
“He has this finite amount of time on Earth, and I think he’s afraid of wasting any of it. It’s passionate and inspiring, really, if not occasionally dangerous.” She stops and smiles. “How’s your schoolwork going?”
“Good.”
I grab my purse when Sonia grabs hers, and when she makes her way out of the office, I follow toward the sound of ferocious wind outside. It’s been storming all day, and the weather forecasters are saying it’s only going to get worse tomorrow.
“I’m having a lot of fun with it,” I explain. “I’ve never written something so in-depth before, but this one comes with a gentle flair of romance.”
We head to the front door, past Calla as she packs her things away, and prepares to leave as well.
“I mean, this paper is being written in a scientific manner, of course – facts, my observations, Jason’s thoughts and emotions all laid out in black and white. But the way he speaks of her…” We step outside into the dreary gray darkness, and shiver at the slicing wind. “I don’t know.”
I look into Sonia’s compassionate eyes. “I just think my professor will notice the weaves of romance that I just can’t seem to squeeze out no matter how many times I rewrite sections.”
“Well…” She pulls up the collar of her long coat, and rubs her hands together to create friction. “I think it’s okay that you’re able to tell a story, even while studying another human being. In fact,” she smiles, “your professor will probably thank you for it, because by the time he’s read hundreds of others that are probably much dryer, he’ll be looking for a little respite.” The wind picks up with a vengeance and blows her hair around her face. “And on that note, I’m going home. You should too. Get your car under shelter before the hail falls.”
“Here.” I reach out and weave my arm around hers. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” She pats my hand in kind rejection, and pulling it away from her arm, she tucks her hair back with her other hand, and smiles. “I parked on the street, just over there, and you parked out back. I don’t want you to go twice as far for no reason.”
“Are you sure?” I almost have to shout over the wind. “It’s just there.”
“I’m sure. Run to your car now, Ally. Get in and go where you’re going. Then hunker down for the night and enjoy the time with your boyfriend.” She smiles when she says ‘boyfriend’. Teasing and playful. Then with a final squeeze of my hand, she releases me and dashes toward her car.
I stay put while she moves, I watch her every step, and I don’t look away until she slides inside, then when Calla comes out of the office door and locks up, I watch her do the same.
Everyone else was smart enough to park out front today, but I’m the doofus who parked further away, under trees that may kill me if this wind gets worse and fells a few branches.
When Calla slides into her car and backs away from the curb, I take my phone in hand, my bag on my arm, and tucking my hair behind my ear, I start toward the corner of the building.
“Agh!” I jump back with a screech when Jason’s sparkling green eyes meet mine, and I clap a hand to my mouth and laugh – an involuntary nervous reaction. “Jesus! You scared me.”
“Allyson.” Jason wears a thick coat, dark jeans, a dark beanie pushed down over his hair, and because of the shadows the beanie creates, it makes his eyes seem that much bigger, that much brighter. “Why are you outside in this weather?” He speaks loud enough to be heard over the wind. “You’re here all alone?”
“No. The girls just left.” I poke a thumb over my shoulder to point toward the street, then I narrow my brows. “Why are you here? You don’t have a session today.”
“Oh, I know.” He grabs my arm like we’re off for a stroll, and leads me around the building to where I left my car. “I was hoping to catch you after work. However, this storm has certainly added a doomsday flair I wasn’t anticipating.”
“Well, yeah,” I concede and laugh. “It’s a little creepy.”
I let him wind my arm around his to hook us in tight, or risk the storm blowing me away. There’s something about the guy, something that burns just beneath the surface, and the more I write about him, the more whatever is hiding shouts to be discovered.