Then another.
Another.
It’s a punch in the gut.Not only that she’s been drawing me with a wild intensity bordering on obsession, but that they’re drawn so intimately.In these drawings, there’s none of the hopelessness I feel.
I look up, scanning the room until my attention lands on a closed door.
A closet or bathroom.
“These drawings are really good,” I call through the door.
Maybe I can get her talking, to lower her defenses and tell me what the hell is going on.
There’s no answer.
I’m not used to getting the run around.
“Sure, I’m a little surprised I’m wearing clothes in these, but there must be another sketchpad somewhere…”
I hear the click of Nova unlocking the door.
Her face is at the crack, flushed.
She leans her temple against the door.“I’m not Mari.I’m not organized and put together.But I’m not a mess.”
“I know you’re not.”
Her eyes are tinged with red, and I want to hit whoever made her cry.
“For a long time after my parents died, I couldn’t draw.Starting up again was hard.”
“How’d it feel when you did?”
“Like home.”She blinks up at me, her lashes dark and damp.
I step closer, nudge the door open another inch.“Basketball used to feel like home for me.It doesn’t anymore.”
Her fingers tighten on the wood.“How does it feel?”
This, right here, is dangerous.I’m crossing a threshold I didn’t realize I was at.If I give words to the dark emotions colliding in my chest, I’ll unleash something I can’t put back.
“Like I’m drowning,” I say.“Like I’m seconds from sinking to the bottom of the ocean and all I can do is postpone the inevitable.”
Her blue eyes bore into mine so deeply I swear she can see everything I’m feeling.
She pulls back the door.
I should be outside with my teammates.Or rehabbing my body.Or working with my agent to make this trade happen.
Instead, I step into the bathroom.
It’s white and wood and cozy.I take in her toothbrush and makeup bag leaning on the vanity against the mirror.Little feminine details.We have so little in common, but she’s the one I’m seeking out.
“During the game, I came down after a dunk and my knee screamed.I didn’t say anything to the trainers.Didn’t let it show.But I was up in my head over it.”
“That must be scary.But players get hurt all the time.Isn’t it a risk you take?”
“Yeah, but most of them aren’t as good as me.There’s not as much riding on it.”I hang my head.“Back in college, I was in it with this girl and found out she was cheating on me.I spiralled, it got bad, and it almost ended my basketball career.”Her eyes deepen with empathy, but she lets me continue.“I was in a dark place.I pulled out of it, but I could have just as easily not.Everything I worked for my entire life would’ve been wasted.”
