I grinned. “There you are, you prick. You’re mad now. See? I’m helpful.”
“Why do we put up with you?” He laughed, closing his eyes and leaning against the pale, yellow wall.
The painting job in this office was disgusting. With all the money we brought into the program, why in the ever-loving-hell had we not redone the color? Pale yellow was like a bad piss.
Way to think of everything besides Ivy, dipshit. Talk about piss walls more. That’s normal.
Ugh. I once read a stat (no, I was not a nerd like Ivy) that said not everyone had an internal monologue. It baffled me. Like, what? There were people just walking around, living life without an annoying voice in their head providing commentary on everything you did? What I would pay to have that: silence. No judgement from my subconscious.
No constant reminders of what happened with Ivy three years ago.
“I need to apologize to Ivy. I probably scared her, and dude, what if I fell on her? I could crush her, hurt her somehow. Man. This is the second time this has happened.”
So. Many. Things. To. Unpack. Being mature and a damn good friend, I focused on the most important even though Ivy was at the top of my mind. “What do you meansecondtime?”
“It was this summer. I passed out in June for like ten minutes. It was no big deal, and I was alone, but?—”
“Tell Doc this. I had no idea. This shit is dangerous. What if this happened while swimming, dude? Or on the field? You could get yourself killed.”
“Nah, I usually can tell when it’ll happen. There is this tingling feeling before. Plenty of time to prepare.” He waved a hand in the air, frowning hard. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“You know the signs? Oliver, stop talking. You’re pissing me off. Now, where the hell is Frixton?” I barked, standing just as the door opened. “Hi, ma’am. Doc.”
“Callum.” Doctor Frixton was our team doctor. She was honestly a dream woman of sorts, with her vast knowledge of athletics, quick wit, and no-nonsense attitude. I wanted her to boss me around, and I would totally listen. She was also gorgeous, with fire red hair and large green eyes, but she was sadly married and had children of her own.
“Hi, Doctor Frixton, it’s me. I’m the problem.” Oliver gave her a sheepish smile.
“I’m here to make sure he didn’t pass out again,but I’m gonna leave so you two can figure out what the heck is going on. Please tell her, Oliver, that this isn’t the first time, and you know the signs before you pass out.”
“Dude,” Oliver yelled, his eyes large.
“Is this true?”
“Byeeee!” I darted out of the room, the voice in my head narrating my emotions for me.Annoyed that his friend could be sick or have something dark going on, Callum wanted to work out the stress but had other things to take care of. The other irritating thing in his life—Ivy.
The image of her holding Oliver up flashed in my mind, my own thoughts showing me a different outcome. Oliver falling onto her, crushing her, causing her to hit her head on the table corner. Shuddering, I clenched my teeth to stop it. With the consistent monologue in my head, my subconscious loved to go through what-if scenarios instead of living in reality. It was honestly exhausting, but it was how I worked. No use fighting it.
My footsteps pounded on the cement, goose bumps breaking over my chest and arms. As soon as I checked on Ivy, I’d get dressed. Without knocking, I walked into the restoration room to find her hands on her hips, lips pressed together, and her gaze zeroed in on one of the tubs.
Ivy’s focused.She wore her thoughts on her face all the time. Where I had an internal voice, hers was external with her myriad of facial expressions. She had looks for emotions I couldn’t even name, but seeing herI gotta figure this outexpression right now hit me like a truck.
I used to know all her expressions. I used to know her rotation of bows she wore in her hair because I’d totally memorized them, but now, an aching sadness crept from my heart to my toes since my oldest childhood friend was no longer in my life.
And it’s your fault, dumbass!
I scoffed at my own thought, causing a sound loud enough for her to whip her gaze toward mine. Her large green eyes crinkled on the sides before they lit up with anger. Her left hand, the one she wore three rings on, fisted. “What are you doing?”
“Doc has Oliver. I wanted to make sure you were good.”
“Oh, really?” She laughed, but it was a horrible, crude sound. “So kind of you. Making sure I’m okay when you tell me I can’t do something. Appreciate the support.”
Heat spread down my body as I snapped back at her. “Are you so naïve that you think you can actually carry a two-hundred-pound dude? I’m looking at you, and it’s not possible.” I eyed her up and down, not caring that her face flashed with hurt, not giving a fuck that I was taking it too far.
Ivy did that to me. Pushed my buttons just to mess with them again. I wasn’t cold anymore. I was hot. Angry. And the immature asshole I was, I wanted her mad too.
Her eyes flashed, her lips parting, and I tensed, almost excited for her wicked comeback. Ivy was smart as fuck, and I’d loved watching her verbally outwit the mean girls in high school. They couldn’t keep up with her in an argument, and I was ready for it. I wanted to see that Ivy again.
But she didn’t give that to me. She took a calming breath, somehow blinked away her anger, and pointed to the door. “I have more guys coming in. You should go get dressed and finish practice.”
