Crap, they want details. This isn’t going to be as fun as they think it will be.
“Hey! How are you guys doing? Ready for this game against the Pride?” I ask them, going for a different subject but knowing deep down that it is not going to work.
“Nope, not happening. No one wants to talk about the game. We want to know how the gala went with August. Did you have fun? Was there dancing?” Cassie asks, bouncing excitedly on her heels.
“Yeah, spare us no details,” Mac chimes in.
I shake my head. “Well, it was a lot of fun at first. The ballroom was pretty. The food was so good and so was thechampagne. He found the sweetest ways to calm all the nerves that I was feeling about being there.” I swallow and just decide to dive right in. “But we saw his father and of course that did not go well. He called me ‘the help.’”
My eyes look down at the Blaze logo that is sprayed onto the field. I can’t bear to look into their eyes right now.
“Oh, Hendrix,” Cassie immediately pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry that happened. What did August say?”
“Yeah, tell me that fucker stood up to his dad,” Mac says, placing a comforting hand on my arm.
I shake my head. “He really didn’t say much. I decided that it was time for me to leave, and he said that he would drive me home. So, I thanked them for such an enlightening evening, excused myself and called an Uber. The Uber took me to August’s and I drove myself home,” I say, shrugging. “I should have known that was not a good idea.”
“What did August do? Anything, nothing?” Mac asks.
“He said that he would drive me home. He wanted to. But I said that I wanted to take the Uber.” I shake my head. “It was rough. I hated myself for thinking that it would be fun and that we could actually be a normal couple at the event. Maxwell wasn’t going to let that happen.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. You are not the help.” Mac pulls me into a side hug.
“Yeah, if anything, his dad is such a fucking prick,” Cassie chimes in. “I think that we should punch him in the balls… repeatedly. And then we can let you kick him in the balls. You can pretend like you are punting the ball.” She grins. “That should be fun and painful.”
I laugh, shaking my head. It feels good to laugh at something like this. It may seem dramatic, but I was pretty low after getting home from the gala and nothing really seemed to make me feel better. Maybe I should have called them sooner.
“It would be fun, but no, let’s not do that. He has called me and texted me a lot. But I just haven’t responded. I need time,” I admit. “I keep thinking about it and I’m not sure what I wanted him to say to his father. Or how big of a scene that I wanted him to create, but I thought it would be better than just offering to give me a ride home.”
“Yeah, I get that. You deserved better,” Mac agrees with me. “Are you going to be okay if we see him tonight at the bar or after the game?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. But seeing him is going to be inevitable. So, I might as well get it over with.”
“True, but you don’t have to go home with him or be alone with him if you don’t want to. Just say the words and we’ll stand by your side all night long,” Cassie promises me.
“Thank you, guys, I appreciate that. And, honestly, telling you all makes me feel better. It really does. I should have called you yesterday and told you. I was just processing and then wallowing. Talking about it was the last thing that I felt like doing,” I admit to them.
“I get that. But if you ever need us or just want us to sit quietly with you, we can do that,” Cassie says, hugging me. “Whatever you need, girl.”
“Yeah, Lord knows you’ve helped prop all of us up after stupid things happened with our guys,” Mac adds.
I nod. “Thanks again, I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Mac says, nodding. “Now we have to get our heads in the game for this match.”
I turn and see she’s staring in the direction of the Pride players, who are all taking the field for their own stretches.
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get ready to play,” I say.
The three of us begin doing our stretches like we do before each and every game. The rest of the team joins us. The conversation about August and I is over. But I’m okay with thatbecause I need to focus on something else and stop obsessing about those last ten minutes that I spent with him and his father.
I also need to get the look of pity that Drew shot at me out of my head.
And the terrible response that August had to it. I expected more. I expected better, but he’s still the same man who’s afraid of standing up to his father.
“Come on, Hendrix! Time to warm up with me,” Jase calls to me from the sidelines. Before the other goalies can join us, he asks me lowly, “How are things, Hendrix? I saw August this morning and he looked like shit. Care to share anything?”
I shake my head. “His father still doesn’t like me, and he’s still not willing to stand up for us. So, we’re sort of at an impasse.”
