He sat on the counter, long legs dangling. “You wouldn’t talk about it. But Brion says you pulled up to her dorm and she was snuggled up on a bench outside with her boyfriend. Guy with curly blond hair. You wouldn’t even get out and say hello. The two of you just watched her for a few minutes and then turned around and drove home. He said it was the most depressing road trip of all time. You wouldn’t let him stop for food on the way, or turn the radio on even. You just rode in painful silence, staring out the window while he drove.”
I swore, pounding a fist against my thigh. I was an idiot. An idiot who needed the truth. I pulled my phone from my pocket and walked into our living room.
“Mom?” I said when she answered.
“Hey, Blue Boy.” Her voice was sad. She’d seen the press conference. “You messed up, hon.”
I flopped onto the couch. “Did she dump me because we were poor?”
“That’s what you told me. But I only got your side of it and your pride was definitely hurt.”
My fists clenched. I’d wanted to be wrong.
She sighed. “But I don’t believe it for a second. You were the one that was self-conscious about being poor. Blue, sweetie, that girl loved you regardless of football, economic status, or anything else. I’ve never seen two people look at each other with more love than the two of you did.”
I pounded my thigh again. “Why didn’t she deny it?”
“I think she’s blamed herself all these years. Anna takes responsibility for her actions. That’s how she was raised.” She paused, taking a beat. “And so were you. At least by me.”
I sat up straight, not liking the implication in her tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She huffed. “It means you’re not taking responsibility. It means your dad let you do whatever you wanted. Once you got to California I had no control anymore. And your dad didn’t care as long as you performed on the field. Morals? Shot. Humility? Ha. Blaming everyone else for your mistakes? The order of the day.”
My molars clenched so hard it sent pain slamming into my left temple. “Why didn’t she stick up for herself today?”
“With all of you coming at her like a pack of wolves surrounding roadkill? I’m surprised she hung around as long as she did.”
My head dropped into my hand. “I have to fix this.”
Mom snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I’m serious. I wish you the best, son. But you and I have always been straight with each other. I don’t know how to be any other way. I love you, Blue, but if I were Anna, I wouldneverspeak to you again. And if I were her uncles, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her.”
The thought of it put pure panic in my chest like nothing I’d ever felt. Or could remember feeling. “Thank you for being straight with me, Mom. Love you. I gotta go.”
I sat there trying to think of the perfect thing to say to Anna. But how do you tell someone you’re sorry for humiliating them on national television and do it any justice? Finally I just went for it, dialing her number.
Try one, sent to voicemail. Try two, voicemail. Try five, voicemail. I switched to texting. The lamest possible way to apologize.
Anna, I’m so sorry. I messed up. I’m just having a hard time knowing who to believe.
I stared at my phone, praying she’d answer. When her texting indicator started up, I held my breath, letting myself hope. The text came in with a ping, making me jump.
Anna
Suck it.
I jerked in shock. Suck it? It didn’t seem like something she would say. At least not after the time we’d spent together at the hospital. Even in high school she’d seemed classier than that.
I tried calling again. Half a ring later, I was sitting in voicemail jail. I tried FaceTime. Denied.
Please answer the phone. I’d like to apologize not over a text.
Her texting indicator wiggled for a full four minutes. I held my breath for every one of them.
Anna
