Why shorten rotation when we were up?
It’s not exactly evidence. Nothing points to any sort of wrongdoing. Just enough to make me feel like I’m going crazy.
Owen pulls me out of it when he drops onto the edge of his bed and starts tying his shoes. The TV is on mute. It’s some NHL pregame show running highlights from last week.
He stands, stretches, then looks over at me. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
He lowers his hands. “I mean it.”
“I know.” I slide the notebook back into my bag. I drag my hand over my face, finally turning away from the window. “I said I’m fine. I’m just getting anxious about all the waiting.”
“You talking about Reed?” he asks.
“I’m referring to everything.”
He steps forward and catches himself before he claps me on the back. “You talk to Brinley at all?”
Owen turns to grab his hoodie off the chair.
I avoid his gaze, pretending to pick at a loose thread on my sleeve. “No.”
“You haven’t even snuck over?”
A small breath leaves me before I can stop it. “No. Not since I saw her stranded because her car broke down.”
He leans back against the dresser. “Why?”
“Because I told you what Coach said. And because every time I see her, it makes leaving that much harder.”
“For who?”
I don’t answer that, and he doesn’t push. That’s one thing about Owen. He’ll check in, but he won’t dig if you’re not ready.
“You need your head on straight before the game against Kolmont,” he says after a second. “Maybe just give her a call. Talk to her. Keep it short and sweet, but enough to let her know you’re not going anywhere.”
He studies me like he’s waiting for me to respond. I give him a nod.
“I’m gonna head out to grab something to eat. You’ll have the place to yourself. You know, if you wanna do a video call. Maybe it’ll cheer you up a little.”
He flashes me a wink, his mouth curving into a smirk, and that gets me.
“Fuck you.” I chuckle.
“Not me. Her.”
Owen throws a hand over his shoulder as he heads out, the hotel door shutting behind him with a soft click.
I sit there for a second, staring at my phone.
He’s not wrong. I don’t need to fix everything right now. I don’t need some perfect explanation. I just need her to know I’m still here.
Before I can talk myself out of it again, I hit Call.
It rings longer than I expect. Long enough that I start thinking she’s going to let it go to voicemail.
Then she answers.
