Petra had been dismissed. I had an interview because Henry set it up for me. I couldn’t lose this opportunity. My stomach churned with unease. As they neared, I pretended to talk on the walkie. “Yeah, headed down there now.”
And I ran away.
I swore I could feel Callum’s gaze on my back, questioning me, but we’d have to talk later. In private. In my apartment. Where no one would ever see us. God, I hated this. It seemed unfair that he returned to my life only for me to pull back.
What if he doesn’t want that?
What if he refuses?
What if he leaves again?
“Ivy, Jameson needs stretching, and Cobalt’s wrist is being shit. You able to help?”
“Yes, sir.” I smiled at their coach as I walked toward Jameson. He sat on the bench, and by some grace of a higher being, I channeled all the worry and stress into being the best AT I could.
I laughed. I put the guys at ease. I high-fived and remained confident. Even when my skin prickled with Callum being on the field, I didn’t look at him unless it was required.
I was a goddamn professional, even though I might’ve let those lines blur the last week. My dream was getting closer, and he had to support that. My ankle ached, and I sweated way more than normal, either from the brutal humidity or the stress. All I knew was when everything was done, I was exhausted.
Bone-tired.
I hadn’t checked my phone at all, per Henry’s rules, and after I used the bathroom and signed out, I glanced at it.
Callum: Why was Abe touching you?
Callum: Okay, that sounded accusatory. I’m super chill. The chilliest. But hey, Abe… he was touching you, and you were laughing?
Callum: Something is wrong. I need you to tell me. I’m freaking out.
Callum: Also not chill of me, but idc, Ivy. Call me annoying or obsessed, but what’s going on?
Callum: You haven’t looked at me once. If you need space, tell me, okay? I don’t… want it, but if that’s what you need, I’ll give it. I promise.
Callum: Can I walk you home?
I chewed my lip, smiling at the string of texts from him. This unhinged behavior had always been there, like the times in high school where I wouldn’t answer right away. He wanted to know I was safe or that I got a ride home or if I was okay. I didn’t want to worry him intentionally, but we had to revisit the conversation about my internship.
Ivy: hi, want to meet at my place?
Callum: where are you?
Callum: I’m waiting outside the stadium.
Another thing I knew about Callum was that once his mind was set on something, he wouldn’t change it. He also needed reassurance. I’d be a bad girlfriend, or friend in general, to let him stress without easing his mind. We could walk home together. That was no big deal. Henry knew we were friends.
Then, once he was inside, we could talk more. Yeah, that was a good plan.
I shouldered my bag and made my way toward the exit. My nerves were a hot ass mess. Full pandemonium to the point my whole body ached from the tension. The stadium was the southernmost part of campus and next to some freshmen dorms. There usually weren’t a lot of people on a weeknight here, so it was easy to spot Callum’s large frame sitting on a bench.
He jumped the second he saw me, scanning me head to toe. His hands were in fists as he rested them against his thighs. He wore loose shorts and a fitted tee, and he looked good.
“Did I do something? Did you hear something? Last night was amazing, so I’m not—” He reached for me, and I stepped back.
His face fell, and hurt stretched all over his expression. I hated myself in that moment. Our timing. The fact I’d hurt him for even a second.
“Callum, not here.” I shook my head and walked toward my place. “I’ll explain, I promise.”
“What can I do? Why can’t I touch you? Ivy, I’m… please.”
