Yep, just reliving my greatest disaster minute by minute. Living the dream up here in exile. I’m surrounded by heartache and pain that goes deeper than this fucking shoulder injury and public humiliation.
The screen goes dark and I take a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly, tasting nothing.
Then my phone lights up again—this time, a call.
Howie. My agent. While I entertained the possibility of texting Kevin back, there’s not a cell in my body that’s thinking of taking this phone call. Hell no. Not today.
It goes to voicemail. And then it rings again. And again.
On the fourth time, I almost throw the phone at the wall, but my shoulder emits a sharp warning pain and I rein it back. It brings me a murky sense of judgement. Like ‘think again, you idiot.’
I answer on the final ring, voice flat. “What?”
His sigh is a mix of frustration and relief. “You can’t keep ignoring me, Colson. We need to talk about your options.”
“I don’t have any options,” I mutter.
“There are overseas teams that—”
“No,” I interrupt. The thought of going from my dream to a step down overseas makes my stomach turn. Even though there’s no one keeping me here, now that my mom is gone, I can’t imagine it.
His voice is quieter and that somehow makes it worse. “You can’t disappear.”
“Watch me.” Silence crackles on the line.
He lowers his voice. “The longer you hide, the worse it looks.”
I close my eyes. The worst part? He’s right. He’s always right. And it still doesn’t help.
“I’ll call you later,” I lie and hang up.
Before anyone else can call or text, I turn my phone off. There’s nowhere for me to be, no one who actually needs me. Without basketball or my mom, there’s nothing else.
Even May stopped reaching out. She was my on-again, off-again girlfriend who eventually turned into a long-term relationship. We were together for two years. When everything happened with my mom, she stuck around for about as long as it’s acceptable before looking like a garbage human. After that date expired, she was gone. But really, she was gone long before that.
I know I was the shell of the person she met. The person she loved. The person she hoped would change my mind about getting married. No part of me needed a wife, or had this desire to be someone’s husband, but May had other plans. She thought she’d be the one to change me. Little did she know she reinforced my opinion, made it so that doubling down felt right.
May got tired of waiting for me to come back to myself. While part of me doesn’t blame her, the other part is glad she left. I could’ve never given her what she wanted and even though I clearly communicated that, she always held out that it’d be different.
Fuck, this hurts.
The kitchen feels smaller. Tighter. My chest feels the same. I rub a hand over my face, exhale, and glance out the window toward the driveway. The dent in my car catches the morning sun.
A snort escapes me. I honestly couldn’t care less. A dent is nothing. A dent can be fixed.
I wish the rest of my life were that simple.
I take the last bite of my PB&J, toss the plate in the sink and brace my hands on the counter, letting the quiet settle. I’m not hungover. I slept. I ate.
I should feel better. But I don’t. I glare at my cell phone, powered down but still like a little traitor on the table. This morning, I didn’t hatemyself right off the bat. I was trying to take it one step at a time, and then it was like everything closed the gap and ran back to catch me.
The clock on the oven tells me it’s not even eight in the morning. I wonder when the rec center opens and the sound of kids screaming and the basketballs bouncing off things—hopefully not my car—will fill the outside. Or when I’ll hear her yelling about plays and drills.
Part of the reason I came to Golden Harbor was to get away from basketball. The universe seems to be playing some cruel joke on me, like I’ve not been through enough. Naturally, a rec center would be right next door to this place.
Sadie. Ridiculously bright in a way that feels offensive given my state—sunshine in human form, all energy and ease, and that stupid, effortless smile. The kind of brightness that makes people notice.
I don’t need that. I don’t want that.
