How am I going to settle for anyone else when I want him?
Welcome to a life of celibacy.
There was something about us—we bounced off one another. We were able to understand what the other needed without the use of words. When we needed comfort. Inspiration. Excitement. We were tethered to each other, and now that rope has snapped, I feel like I’m missing half of me.
I’m incomplete.
Madison and Sophia are stretching early on the field, and I plaster a smile on.
“You feeling okay, Mae? You don’t look so good,” Madison asks, and Sophia shoots me a concerned look. As team captain, she always ensures her team are coping well, and if she sees someone struggling, she’ll do her best to help. It’s one of the things I like about her.
“I’m coming down with a cold,” I lie, hoping they’ll stop the questioning. Thankfully, they do.
“Can you guys believe we’re four weeks away from the end of the season? We’re so close to the Super Bowl!”
Sophia’s comment has me jittery. Four weeks until I leave for Florida. Until I say goodbye to Nathan forever. Until I start a whole new life for myself and forget about everything. Until I become the new Mae Bexley—the woman who doesn’t have a missing father and controlling mother. Who doesn’t have a man she loves but can’t have.
“Even less if the guys don’t win the game on Sunday,” Madison adds.
Oh God, I’m about to throw up my lunch.
“These lights are giving me a headache,” I say as I pinch the bridge of my nose, and Sophia hikes her thumb towards the tunnel.
“I have some Tylenol if you need it. It’s in my bag in the locker room. Front pocket.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Sophia.” Rushing into the women’s locker room, I unzip her bag and rummage through, but I frown when I come up empty-handed.
My headache intensifies, and thinking that Sophia may have accidentally misplaced her Tylenol in her coat instead, I quickly feel around in her pockets. I’m met with her phone, so I pull it out to find the small bottle of Tylenol underneath.
I swallow the pills dry, sitting down on the bench and taking a deep breath.
Can you die from sadness? I swear people have before.
What would happen if my heart were to give out right here in the locker room? What would be written on my death certificate? I’m a victim of a heartbreak-induced fatality?
Heartbreak is weird because it’s all in your mind.
Nothing is physically wrong with me. But it feels like someone’s taken my heart out, run it over with a truck, and then given it back to me with a smug smile. There are no bruises. No wounds. And I’m expected to go on because I’m only falling apart internally.
Suddenly, Sophia’s phone buzzes beside me. I don’t pay it any mind, though, resting my elbows on my knees and placing my head in my palms.
Cheering should perk me up a little bit. I enjoy it, and I feel alive dancing on that field. But I’m swapping my pom-poms for a stethoscope pretty soon. And I need to come to terms with the fact that all of this will be gone pretty soon. It was always supposed to be temporary.
Sophia’s phone vibrates again. And again. And again.
I try not to read the texts that come through. I really do. But my eyes skate over the screen for a brief second.
Money has been transferred into your account.
Glad we could both get what we wanted.
Now, delete all our messages.
And don’t speak about this to anyone.
My spine goes rigid. The texts don’t make much sense to me until I see the initials they were sent from.
K.S.
