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All she says is, “I know.”
There are no more words that will change her mind. I storm out of the room, hitting my shoulder on the doorframe, but my feet can’t carry me fast enough. I tumble out of her apartment, falling on the ground, emptying my stomach until there’s nothing left.
Somehow, I manage to get up and propel myself into my car, beating my head on the steering wheel.
“How could she do this? To me? To us?” I yell. I drive around, not knowing what to do or where to go or who to talk to. Finally, I make it to The Stable and carry my sorry ass in.
“Look who’s making the walk of shame,” Nick says, laughing.
Instead of going upstairs to my apartment, I grab him by his hoodie. “Shut the fuck up before I shut you up.”
“Damn, Cap. Let go of me.” When I hold him for another second before flicking him away, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Every. Fucking. Thing. Now leave me alone.” And I take the stairs three at a time and slam my suite door behind me.
Sixteen years of friendship, over. The last six weeks have been the best of my life. I should have known better. I did know better, which is why I kept my feelings hidden for so long.
Go back to being best friends. Pure fiction.
Is she serious? She must be living in a fantasy world.
I don’t go to class. I miss practice, saying I’m sick and canceling all of my sponsorship duties and staying in my room for three days. Coach sends medical staff in. They tell him I’m dehydrated and weak. Me? Weak.
I stare at my phone for three days, just waiting for her to say she didn’t mean it. To send me my morning text, but nothing comes. In fact, the last text is from me; she had never responded. I should have known something was wrong. She wasn’t sick. She was sick of me.
My mom calls, hearing reports on socials that I’m sick. I tell her that Lettie broke up with me, and she seems as stunned as me. “Oh Dane, I’m so sorry. Just give her some space. She’s on the verge of achieving a dream she never thought would happen. Maybe the new trainer is pressuring her for more time.”
“Mom, I thought I was a great boyfriend. I don’t know what I did wrong,” I say, my voice braided with confusion and pain.
"I know you were, honey. But right now, I need you to focus on your game. Your teammates are depending on you. Get your butt out of bed and go to practice and class. Work out your frustrations on the basketball court," she advises, her voice firm. I take a deep breath, feeling a surge of motivation at the thought of taking out my anger on the court. "You have an away game tomorrow, right?" my mom asks, and I can hear the determination in her voice.
“Yes, ma’am.”
And then your dad and I will see you at the Opera House the day after," she adds, referring to an upcoming event we’re all supposed to attend together. “Dane, that girl has loved you her whole life, and I don’t think that changed in a day or two, unless you…”
“I would never cheat on her.”
Mom takes a deep breath and releases it into the phone. “I know, but sometimes things happen. If it’s your fault, man up and grovel.”
“Mom, I didn’t. She broke up with me because we’re both slacking on everything, trying to steal a few hours here and there.”
“Just give her some time. I know it hurts, but sometimes people need time apart to see how good they are together. Call me after practice, and I’ll see you in a couple of days.” The soft brush of her breath into the phone gives me some comfort but not near enough.
After we hang up, I take a shower, check my phone, and tap out, “I miss you.” I look at it but don’t hit send. Lettie has cut me open with a blade with the edges so sharp, it hurts to breathe.
Me: You home?
Reed: Dropping off Caleb at football practice. Home in ten.
Me: Coming over.
It’s odd that he didn’t ask what’s up. My guess is Lettie has told them but if that’s the case, why hasn’t he called to check on me? I worry as I park in front of his house and wait for him to pull into the driveway.
“What do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, grinning.
“Caleb chose football, huh?” I ask.
He pushes up his long-sleeve Stallions Hockey shirt, and he unlocks the door. “Yeah, I have to admit, he looks adorable in the pads. But this is a four-week league for them to run around. He’ll start hockey in December. Come in.”
