It’s the first time I’ve let myself consider the full weight of my move, our breakup since we lost our final game. I ease down into the bed, getting comfortable, and I send the text because I still can.
Checking in. I was thinking about you. You doing okay?
Her reply is quick—like always. If she’s awake and free, she never makes me wait.My older brother is babysitting me. Is that weird?
Only if your boyfriend arranged it, I reply.
Oh shoot. He did. What does that mean?
That he loves you.I hit Send.
The stupid grin I always get whenever she texts me is making my cheeks hurt.
Honestly, getting Nathaniel here was top-tier boyfriend material,she adds.
Top-tier doesn’t sound too bad. Is there a higher level? I’m competitive. Don’t like the idea of anyone beating me.
You’ve got the top spot locked in.
That’s what I like to hear. I decide she might be ready for a gentle prod.How are you really?
I watched him get arrested about fifty times. That can’t be healthy, right?
The national paper calling you a “beloved physiotherapist” was my favorite,I type back.
My mom had her driver drop off a note to tell me she had the photos and videos taken care of too.
Ah, fuck. I have to call her. She picks up right away.
“I didn’t tell her about the photos or videos,” I say. “That wasn’t—I wouldn’t do that.”
“I wasn’t accusing you. My mom is resourceful and a bit evil, so I have no doubt she found out in ways I’d rather not think about,” she says.
“Using her evil powers for good here,” I suggest, keeping my voice light.
“More than likely just protecting the Tucker name. She’s obsessed with keeping our status and our family squeaky clean. What she did has benefitted me, but I doubt it wasforme.”
“She likes the power more than anything.” Which fits the vibe she gave off when I was there.
“She doesn’t like being on the outside of the family secrets,” Sawyer says. “She resents that we resent her. It’s a big ball of mutual resentment.”
“Do you think you’ll all get along again?”
“I don’t know.” Sawyer sighs. “Family’s complicated, which you’re about to learn tomorrow.” Her voice perks up at the end, a hint of her old teasing evident. Something inside me that had been wound tight slowly unravels.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that I decided to meet them.”
“We’re in a weird place,” she says, her voice gentle. “I get it.”
Her tone, the idea that these moments with her are almost over, causes a streak of longing to run from my throat and down the rest of my body. “As soon as I’m off the plane tomorrow, I’m coming straight home to you.”
“Perfect,” she says. “That sounds perfect.”
Even though I just saw her a few hours ago, we stay on the phone, talking about nothing and everything. I’ve never been closer to anyone, and when we finally hang up, I scroll through my phone, looking at photos of us from the last several months. Memory after memory after memory.
I don’t know how I’ll let her go, but I don’t know how I’ll keep her either.
This morning, I woke up to a text message from Jonathan Tucker telling me that they’re close to a deal with Oregon and to consider this my heads-up that a trade is coming. Even though I knew, the news has put me in a weird headspace, where I don’t quite feel firmlyinmy life. As though it’s spinning a little out of control without me being able to influence or steer the direction of it. When the team was moved to Bellerive, I felt this way too, and maybe this feeling is just something I need to get used to, a part of the WHL I’ll have to learn to deal with.
