“I can’t believe we have a game tomorrow,” Benny says.
“Yeah, that’s just cruel,” Mabel adds.
“Right?” I agree.
“Who was that girl you were talking to?” Mabel elbows my arm. “She was pretty.”
“Georgia. Yeah, very pretty.”
“Did you exchange numbers? Make a date?”
I slide her a grumpy glance. “No.”
She heaves a sigh. “Marek.”
“What? I wasn’t interested.”
“You’re never interested in anyone anymore. I thought when you were seeing Bristol maybe that was turning into something.”
“Nah. That was just casual.”
“You don’t even dothatanymore,” she persists.
She’s not wrong.
“He’s hung up on that rock star,” Benny says.
The guys love to give me shit about that.
Mabel’s head turns and she fixes her gaze on me. “Who? Nikki Sullivan?”
I don’t answer, but Benny says, “Yep.”
“I thought you just met her at the All Star game,” Mabel says. “Was there more to it than that?”
I’ve never told anyone details of that night. Weekend. Just that we met and she was fun and I like her music. “She’s not a rock star.”
“True,” Mabel agrees. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I look out the window.
I haven’t seen Nikki since then, despite our efforts. We texted and talked on the phone after we got to our respective homes. We tried to plan to meet up when I was in L.A. with the team, but with games, practices, and team dinners, and with her schedule, we couldn’t find a time. She was in New York for three days in April, but I was in fucking Montreal in the first round of the playoffs. When the season was done, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t pissed and heartsick about being out of the playoffs, I figured it would be easier for us to finally get together, but then her life totally blew up. One of her singles hit big after she released a new album and she was suddenly busier than ever.
Suddenly she was everywhere. Everywhere except with me, that is. You couldn’t go on social media without seeing news stories, pictures, or gossip about her. She was on TV shows, podcasts, and billboards. Pictures of her were all around me. In the fall, she started a big tour—to all the places she’d always wanted to go. Japan. Australia. Right now she’s somewhere in Europe.
And I’ve pretty much given up hope that we’ll ever see each other again.
Which really fucking sucks, because it felt like there was something genuinely incredible between us. Something I’ve never experienced before, or since.
But apparently not so incredible for her. Contact with her dwindled when that album took off and I started feeling like I was the only one who was really trying. I’ve been feeling sad. Kind of depressed. Which is not like me at all. It’s taking more and more effort to keep my fun-loving game face on.
But it’s a new year and I’m going to snap out of it. I’m genuinely happy for her and for the success she’s having. She’s talented and hardworking and she deserves it. Thinking about how ecstatic she must be now makes it easier to handle my disappointment while I sit at home and listen to sad music and eat too many sour Skittles.
“Apparently it does matter.” Mabel gentles her tone. “You’re pretty broken up about her.”
Am I going to tell Mabel I fell in love with Nikki that weekend? That I worship her and adore her and want to spend my life with her? That I’m fucking wrecked that that’s never going to happen?
No. I am not.
