“Dude,tell her.How many times do I have to say it? What? Are you going to walk around the restaurant floor all summer not saying a word to anyone in case she hears your voice?”
“I’m going to tell her,” I grumble. “I just have to find the words.”
“It’s easy. ‘Hey, this is weird but…I really like you and I’ve got this double-identity thing going. I thought you should know. So, I’m kind of like Clark Kent in the sheets, Superman in the streets.’” He pauses. “Or, wait, is it the other way around?”
I laugh. “Look, man, I’ll be fine. Thanks for getting that eighteen-wheeler on short notice. You really are the best right-hand wizard a recently rich football prodigy could ask for. I don’t know how you find these things.”
Ty laughs. “Why, thank you. And let’s not change the subject. You’re about to have a rendezvous with a girl in a truck…and she doesn’t even know your real name. She hasn’t even seen your face. You’re completely insane.”
“Well, what else is new? Come on, man, I haven’t felt this way about a girl in, well, ever. I’m just going to do what I feel is right. I’m almost there. Gotta go.”
I hang up with Ty and take a deep breath.
I’malmost therebut I need to think. I put on my favorite song, “Creep”by Radiohead, and smell the fresh air coming through the window.
I think back to the conversation I heard my last ex having—right before she became my ex.
Tracy had been my high school girlfriend since sophomore year of high school, and we dated long distance all through college. It wasn’t an ideal setup, but I loved her and I’m nothing if not loyal. I wasn’t about to throw away what I thought was true love for some college football groupie, though the temptations were fuckingplenty.
And then I went to her place one off weekend to surprise her—actually, it was almost a year to the date. I’d just been drafted number four overall, and there were speculations far and wide over what my salary would be. Houston hadn’t had a top quarterback in a long time, and I was the highest quarterback pick in the draft. Sports pundits were throwing my name around with the greats.
Hunter Holloway is the next Aaron Rodgers.
No, he’s more of a Joe Montana type. He’s more mobile. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets fifty million.
The money didn’t matter to me, really.
The big money, in my mind, was just a bonus for being able to continue playing the sport I loved. After being injured for a full year, some had given up on me. And then I got drafted—it was such a surprise I didn’t even have my family with me when I got the call.
That day last April, I drove all the way from Florida the day after, with only naïve love in my heart, thinking about the people in the trailer park I’d be able to fix up.
I’d had that jalopy for ages. The thing would break down every three weeks it seemed.
On the ride home I was ecstatic—had a huge smile on my face the whole way. I was too wired to even call anyone back home and tell them I was coming.
I was getting a new car. My mom’s credit card debt was going to be paid off, and that college degree she always talked about getting? Well, if she still wanted it, money wasn’t going to be the reason why not anymore.
Tracy is over at Mary’s trailer having some drinks,her mom said when I arrived.
I walked toward her trailer happy as could be, roses in my hand because she loved them and I loved her.
And then I stopped short when I heard Tracy bragging to Mary and her two sisters, drunk and boisterous.
I’ve put in my time. And now that he’s rich, I’m going to be rich, too.
Do you love him?
What is love, really?Tracy was saying. I stopped short, my heart hammering as I started listening.Hunter is my ticket out of here. Love is…an illusion. It’s a big fat lie. I mean, whatever, I’ll play nice with him and everything, but once we get married and I’ve got him locked down with a kid? Well, that’s all I’m worried about. Hunter himself is…I mean, he’s fine. He’s whatever. He’s Hunter. A big mostly dumb jock oaf who is more athletic than ninety nine point nine percent of the world because of some lucky genes. And the sex is great. But I’m enjoying hooking up with other guys, too.
My heart dropped to my damn feet and I don’t think it ever came back up.
I stood there, gripping those damn roses like an idiot. Then I gave them to her anyway. Told her it was over. No yelling. No theatrics. Just done.
I was worth more than awhatever.
And now, as I pull up to the black semi parked in the field, my pulse quickens. Part nerves. Part adrenaline. Part something I haven’t felt in a long time—hope.
Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe this whole thing is insane. But Faith—Luna—this woman? She’s making me believe again. In love? I don’t know. That might be pushing it.
