I take a deep breath and type out a message.
And then I hit send.
Chapter 21
This apartment feels ten times smaller than usual. It’s only four hundred square feet, with a loft upstairs that I sleep in and a teensy kitchen that I never cook in, and it’s never felt as small as it feels now. I usually love this place. It’s just big enough for me, and me only. Right now it feels like a closet.
I even feel too small. Like a part of me is missing. It’s been three days now since the training camp project ended and we got to go home. Jett’s Christmas party is on Saturday, and I’ll fly out at noon, then probably spend the whole weekend over there riding at his track. I was looking forward to it, but now even that feels like a disappointment. If I can’t figure out a way to make it work with Avery, I won’t want to be around my team anymore.
All week I’ve thought it over. I wake up late, go surfing all day, and think about her. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what to do, or even if I should do anything. Now I fully understand what people mean when they talk about their head and their heart as if it’s two separate things. It totally is.
In my head, the logical and rational part of me that’s never led me astray in life, I know that I should walk away from all thoughts of Avery. And sometimes, that part of me starts to sound pretty convincing. But then my heart takes over. And my heart longs for her more than it’s ever longed for anything. My brain has permanently memorized her smile and keeps showing it to me whenever I try to forget her. My heart wants to forget all about why we’d never work. My heart wants us to be together.
It makes me think all kinds of wild things, like sharing my apartment with her. Traveling with her and seeing the world like she wants to do. I picture Team Loco interviews where they talk about how all four of us are currently in happy relationships. I wouldn’t be the odd one out anymore.
And then, just when all of that starts to sound like a damn good idea, I can feel my head starting to take over again, and I tell myself to just get over it and drop the fantasy of dating her.
The beaches are a little crowded since it’s close to Christmas and people are out of school and work for the holidays. I grab some dinner at my favorite taco place and then carry my surfboard down to the beach long after the sun has set. There are still people here, but not too many. I head out into the water and surf under the moonlight.
The water is cold, but it’s never too cold here in California. That’s one of the things I love about this place. I wonder how cold it is in Texas right now. I wonder what she’s doing. Whatever it is, she’s not thinking about me.
Or maybe she is?
I don’t even know how to deal with this part of myself. I’ve never been so hung up on a girl before. I’ve never wanted to be with someone so badly that it hurts, a physical pain that’s knotted up in my chest each time I breathe.
I take a deep breath and paddle back out to sea, hoping the waves will wash over me and take away these thoughts that are slowly driving me mad.
Hours later, I tote my surfboard back up the shore, and sluggishly walk up the hundred concrete steps that lead to the highway along the coast. I’m exhausted from surfing for hours straight, and it didn’t help at all. I put my board away and peel myself out of my wetsuit, draping it over the hook on my front porch to dry.
I take a hot shower and then load up Netflix on the TV, wondering if this will be my life for the next fifty years. Hanging out in my apartment alone, surfing alone, watching TV alone. I swallow the lump in my throat, and look up at the ceiling, suppressing a groan.
The wall casts a little blue shadow that’s blinking. My phone is plugged into the charger and the little LED light on the top of it is lighting up. I have a new email or something. It’s been hours since I bothered checking my phone. Normally when I’m home, I don’t look at it at all. This apartment is wired with surround sound so I play my music through the stereo.
I get up and check it, expecting some stupid email from Team Loco or something. My heartbeat races. The notification was for a text message from a number I don’t know.
I click on it.
Hi Clay. It’s Avery, your new official Team Loco intern. :) Just thought I’d give you my number in case you ever need it.
I’ve spent three days wishing I had her phone number and now I do. I save her to my contacts and then stare at the message. She sent it five hours ago. I check the time—it’s midnight here on the west coast, which means it’s two in the morning in Texas. Damn. I wonder if she was waiting for a reply from me and I left her hanging?
Maybe not—her message just sounds like a business message. Maybe she sent one to every Team Loco member. Or maybe it was her way of contacting me because she’s thinking of me the same way I’m thinking of her.
Once again, I wonder what would have happened if I’d met her at the airport before she left. I was really caught up in the moment then. I would have totally laid out my feelings for her, embarrassing myself in the process, just for the small chance that she felt the same way. And now that opportunity is gone, and I’ve had time to sleep on it, and although my feelings haven’t changed, maybe hers have.
I want to reply back so badly, but it’s late at night. If what she sent me was just a friendly business message then she’d be annoyed to get woken up this late by a reply.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I weigh my options. Finally, I text Jett, asking if he’s awake.
Yeah, he writes back a few seconds later. Relief hits me.
Me:Is your girl awake?
Jett:You chatting up my girl at two in the morning? Lol
Me:Trying to. Ha… if she’s awake can you have her call me?
A couple minutes later, Keanna calls.
