“Do you know what happens when you turn down pizza for not liking it? Eight thousand questions. I’ve been known to choke it down or take a couple bites and throw it away when I have my opening.”
“I feel like I don’t even know who you are.”
“My dirty secret is out.”
“I’ll never look at you the same again.”
“You wanted me to come clean, and now I have. The page, please.” He beckoned me to hand it over, waggling his fingers.
Ripping the page from the notebook, I grabbed my pen.
Holden ripped up the page and tucked the pieces in his pocket.
At the top of the next page, I scribbled down ‘Pizza Hater’ at the top.
“What are you doing?”
I held it close to my chest. “Nothing.”
He shoved out of his seat and using two fingers, motioned between his eyes and me, signaling he was watching me.
Keeping my innocent look, I didn’t look down until he disappeared into the bathroom.
He was the closest thing I had to a friend nowadays. Every so often Piper sent an email or a text, and we met up when I was in town, but she had a life and a family. It felt like whenever I showed up, the circus was in town. I didn’t want to lose her. She was one of the few people who still treated me like me, like the old Bay from before my life became my life. Felicia was the same. The RA whose bed I used to sit on, trying not to tear my hair out over econ homework, always felt like someone I could turn to, although the texts had gotten less frequent.
Time zones and travel made it hard enough to maintain friendships.
Barging into her life whenever it was convenient for me made me feel like the worst friend in the world. ‘Hey, I’m free. Drop everything and come hang out with me because I missed you.’ It wasn’t a good look.
Even my messages to Spencer were few and far between. He was busy with his own tour. He never asked for anything—no requests for tickets or connections. I’d gone through two phones since we’d last talked earlier this year. That he’d been so shocked when I sent him a message hurt a little. It was like he’d forgotten we’d once even known each other, let alone been friends.
Holden and Emily were with me day after day, part of the madness my life had become.
But weren’t friends supposed to be people you didn’t have to pay to stick around?
Tomorrow, we’d hear back from Headstrong Foundation.
I’d have to figure out how to get Keyton to spend a little more time with me, and how to let go of the only man I’d ever loved.
10
Keyton
The season opener and another game. The board meetings for Headstrong Foundation. The meetings with my agent and coaches from Wisconsin. The last few days had been jam-packed, and the SeptemberWeen Carnival was four days away.
Talks had progressed with Wisconsin. It wasn’t a done deal by any stretch of the imagination, and there were only two months before the trade window closed and I’d lose yet another season. At every turn, people kept reminding me how monumentally stupid it was to leave the cushy niche I’d carved out for myself.
“You’re insane, kid.”
“Maybe, but it’s what I want.”
There was a lot of grumbling on the other end of the line.
“If they come in at my minimum number, just take it. Don’t haggle. Don’t check in with me. Just say yes. You’re my agent and I’m directing you to do this as your client.”
Even more grumbling with a few choice words added in. “You’re the boss.”
Hanging up, I stared out the windows at the slivers of sunlight breaching the horizon.
Every morning I woke up with the sun and got on the treadmill in my empty gym in my empty apartment. These days, I wasn’t trying to wear myself out running until it felt like my legs would fail and my lungs would burst. That didn’t make it any less essential. It wasn’t like I was getting a workout on the field.
My sketch pad had been getting a workout. I’d even graduated to charcoals with some bigger paper. Canvases sat unwrapped beside my front door. These feelings were growing, and the need to make the scenes bigger grew every day.
Sitting on the wooden bench beside my free weights, I tapped on a name in my contacts and waited for it to connect.
“Hey, Keyton. It’s been a while.” Almost three months. Around the time Alice and I broke up.
“Hey, Monica. The season’s starting. Things get busy.”
“How’s the running?”
“Just finished.”
“Okay good, I hoped that was why you were panting and not some other reason…” Her voice trailed off.
“Come on, Monica.”
“No, please, don’t.” Deadpanned and dry as a decade-old raisin.
I flung my towel into the hamper and laughed. “You have a dirty mind to rival most guys on the team.”
“So I’ve been told. Is that why we’re talking today?”
“No, it’s about Bay.”
“Ah, Bay. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”
I swear I heard her pen click. Notebook pages were probably being flipped open. “I saw her. A week ago.”
“And you waited a whole week to call me? Impressive.”
“Our first run-in was an accident, and we had coffee the next day. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but…I keep feeling like there is more we should’ve said.” Gwen hadn’t let me know if Bay had accepted the invitation. Once she realized it was for my foundation, she’d probably have Holden light the invitation on fire after how I’d bolted from her hotel suite.
“Why not go find her and talk some more?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It can be.”
“Can you try not to sound like a wise old owl right now?”
“No.” Glad she was willing to help me out. “Tell me why talking to her has you on edge.”
“Backsliding. Freaking out again.” Ruining both our lives. We’d both dodged a Dare-sized bullet six years ago in California.
“She’s not Alice. I know you know that. But you’re different, right? And she’s different. Why not come at this like you’re meeting a new person? Your pasts will always be there, but there’s no sense in catastrophizing speaking with her when you don’t even know who she is right now, and she doesn’t know who you are. Maybe you’ll both hate each other.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Anything is possible, even things going well. Every time you imagine the worst, imagine the opposite as an option as well.”
In my mind, I tried to picture what could be and it scared me how much I wanted it.
“I’m jealous of this party you’re throwing later this week. Did my invite get lost in the mail?”
“Fly up here and I’ve got a ticket waiting for you.”
“Asshole, you know I don’t fly.”
“Maybe you should talk to someone about that fear of yours…”
“The highlight of my day. You giving me crap about being afraid of flying.”
“It’s your only flaw.”