Teardrop Shot Read online

  Grant turned to her.

  She shook her head. “It’s not even unethical, Grant. Don’t go there. They’re adults. Both of them. That’s it. And now, having said that…” She smiled at me. “We’re having a group of people to the house tomorrow night to watch their game, if you’d like to come.”

  Grant said stiffly, “I was going to invite her.”

  “After the third degree? Really?” Her voice was dry. “I’m sure she would’ve felt so welcome.” She looked back at me. “Please come. Grant will have his head out of his ass by then.” She nodded, turned, and went back out the way she’d come.

  Grant waited until the cafeteria door closed behind her, and his gaze swung back to me.

  There was no apology in his eyes, though. He just seemed haunted, with an edge of anger, and his tone reflected both. “With all due respect to their opinions, they don’t know you like I do.”

  Fuck. I looked away. I knew in that second that this was going to hurt. He wasn’t coming at me in a disapproving way for my ethics. He was taking a personal angle.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  It had killed me to expose myself as much as I did with Reese the night before, and now here? With Grant? I wasn’t sure I had the strength to hear this out, whatever he was going to send my way. Though, maybe I did deserve it?

  He started low, quiet. “You were my best friend. Like, the bestest friend I’ve ever had. And yeah, I knew that kiss was a mistake. I knew it was going to scare you away, but I had to still try. I backed off after. I did.”

  I frowned. Why was he bringing this up? “The kiss?”

  “Our kiss.”

  “Why are you…” I trailed off.

  He jumped in, more insistent, “I knew I scared you away with that kiss. I don’t want it to happen again, where you get with a guy, he hurts you, and we lose you all over again. I did it with our kiss, and then we completely lost you for years to Damian. And now I know things ended with you two, and you were still too scared to come to me. I…” He ground to a halt.

  My eyes were wide. I could barely breathe. “Are you serious?”

  His eyebrows bunched together. “I scared you away. It’s because of me that you even started dating Damian.”

  He blamed—what? No. He couldn’t, but he did. I saw it then.

  He blamed himself for Damian, and for...I wasn’t even sure what else.

  I shook my head. “No. No! You didn’t scare me away. That’s not what happened.”

  His frown deepened. “It’s not?”

  “No! Not at all.”

  Oh boy. I would have to slide that door open once more and feel the Damian effects again. It was going to crush me, but he needed it. This wasn’t my coworker in front of me, but a best friend I’d abandoned, and it was on me to make this right.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For leaving you—for leaving everyone, to be honest. I knew I’d hurt people. I just didn’t know how much. I’m getting it now.” And gah, that kiss. He blamed himself. “Grant, when you and I kissed, I knew there was nothing there.”

  His entire face twisted. “Nice.”

  “We were young, and I was a coward. I should’ve told you straight up right then and there, but you never pushed, and I didn’t realize what you were going to think. You never scared me. I was okay. We kissed, and it was what it was. You were my best friend, and in a way, I think you still are, but I didn’t run to Damian because of you. When we left the swing and I drove away, I decided to just let it lie. I was waiting to see if you pushed for something, and if you did, I was going to tell you then that there was nothing romantic between us. You and me kissing had no bearing on me falling in love with Damian. At all.”

  “It didn’t? I didn’t?”

  We’d been so young, and I heard it in his voice again. That guy was in front of me, the one I’d thrown away.

  “I am so sorry. When I fell for Damian, it was a whirlwind. He consumed everything in me, and I fell hard. I fell fast. We were—I could think something, and he knew it just by a look, or a twitch, or somehow he could feel it in the air. I don’t know. It was unsettling at first, but I’ve never had someone know me the way he knew me and so fast.” Pain sliced me right down the middle, my guts falling out. “He was my soulmate, and what happened with us—it wasn’t a case of him cheating on me or abusing me. It wasn’t like that, but it was tragic, and it was hard to walk away from. But I had to.”

  “A year, Charlie.” He picked at the counter beside him. “You’ve been away from him and hurting for a full year. Why didn’t you—I mean, you could’ve called. You could’ve emailed. Anything. I would’ve been there for you. What happened with you two? You’re half the size you were back then. You were healthy and glowing, and you’re like a shallow reflection of yourself. He did that to you. I don’t care what you say. He did that to you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes! Stop defending him—”

  “He has dementia!”

  Oh—I bent over on a dry heave. I hadn’t intended to say it out loud, not for a long time. But those words were out. I couldn’t take them back.

  How could I explain? The pitying looks, the confusion. Grant wouldn’t understand. He would judge me—about leaving Damian, about not being humane and staying, no matter what. Ride or die. I cut and run instead.

  “He what?”

  Grant’s words were soft, but still seething. The anger was still there.

  I braced myself, because I knew it was coming at me.

  “I can’t,” I choked out. “I can’t do this. Excuse me.”

  I was empty.

  I walked past Grant, tuning him out. He was saying something, but I was gone.

  Suddenly I wasn’t so grateful for a day off.

  I rolled over the next morning and turned my phone on.

  It had taken almost the whole day for me to get the Damian shame out of me. I’d gone to Reese’s empty cabin and stayed most the day. Since the athletes were gone, we had no meals scheduled, so I’d heated some leftovers from the staff fridge. I hadn’t seen anyone else when I walked back to the village, and since it was still nice out, I’d kept going. I’d walked the trails for another hour before returning to Reese’s cabin, and then I did something I never thought I’d do.

  I’d opened my laptop.

  Lightning bolt!

  Gasp. Shock. Yes, I actually did what my therapist suggested. I turned it on, brought up my music, plugged in my headphones, and I typed. Judah & the Lion were crooning in my ear. I didn’t know what I’d typed—half the stuff was in red squiggles from being misspelled, but I felt better at the end. Enough that I saved the document, shoved the laptop aside, and curled up on Reese’s bed to sleep the rest of the night.

  It was still cold in the cabin, so it wasn’t that late, but I was too lazy to get up and check the clock in the main area. I waited till my phone flashed on to check the time, but the buzzing started, and it kept going.

  Buzz.

  Buzz.

  Buzz.

  Buzz!

  BUZZ!

  BUZZZZZ!

  I got it.

  I hit silence on my phone, but still watched the alerts come through.

  Wtf?

  Where are you?

  U okay?

  Holy fuck, gnat.

  Text me.

  Why do I care? I care. Fuck’s sake. Answer me.

  Dude.

  There was a whole list of them, all from the same number, and I had a feeling I now knew Reese’s phone number.

  I pulled up the last one and texted back.

  Me: I’m here. Turned phone off last night.

  My phone rang, vibrating alive in my hand within seconds.

  “Don’t tell me you were concerned about me?” I said in greeting. “How’d you get my number?”

  He snorted. “Snagged it one night and I was bored. You’re supposed to entertain me. You’re slacking, Direction Girl.”

  Ah. I
’d been demoted.

  I lie back on the bed. My bladder was not happy with that decision, but who knew the next time a pro basketball player would be on the phone with me? Saying I was supposed to entertain him? My bladder could wait.

  “Tell the truth. You’d rather I was your roommate than Juan.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Maybe. He snores. You don’t.”

  “Says you. Maybe I wait till you fall asleep and then zonk out, and I always wake up before you.”

  “You don’t snore. I’m a light sleeper. I’d know.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I sneak over and put earplugs in your ears.”

  “I’d definitely wake up for that.” He waited a beat, dropping his voice low. “For real, though. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” This was feelings territory. I liked Jokingland. Let’s go back there. “You gonna replace me with a new ball girl? One that’s a real ball girl?”

  Another short laugh from him. “Nah. That’s not the term I use for those girls.”

  “Right. Groupie.”

  “That or a one-use girl.”

  My eyes widened. “A one-use girl? Really? That’s crass.”

  “So’s fucking.”

  I could hear his smirk over the phone. Someone said his name in the background, and he responded, “Yeah. Be right there.” A door closed, and he came back on the phone. “I gotta go. You’re going to watch later?”

  “Yep. A whole bunch of us are going to Grant and Sophia’s.”

  “That’s the good friend of yours, right?”

  “Right.”

  He paused another beat. “Tell me straight. You okay or not?”

  I had to smile. “Why? You worried about your gnat?”

  “Maybe I’m a little concerned for my friend.”

  See! We were friends. “I’ve been promoted. Direction Girl, Gnat. Now Friend, but not your ball girl.” And definitely not a one-use girl. Hell to the nah. I had more respect.

  Maybe.

  Well…

  Okay, enough with that thinking. We were friends. Platonic, no fucking. But, “Hey, Reese?”

  “Yeah?” He sounded distracted.

  “Are you going to use a one-use girl tonight?”

  There was silence on his end.

  I shouldn’t have asked, but I did, so I waited, my chest tight. I sat up, pressing the phone tightly against my ear.

  “I was more hoping to call a certain gnat tonight.”

  My chest felt lighter. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  He hung up after saying goodbye, and I sat there a full minute afterward, just holding the phone.

  • • •

  I took my phone out later on when I was waiting for Owen and Hadley to pick me up for dinner.

  Me: Why is it llama and not lama?

  Another one.

  Me: Have you ever been propositioned by an ex’s grandmother?

  Me: Rate your teammates as shades, curtains, drapes, or blinds.

  Me: Would you consider yourself a camel, a lama, or an alpaca? Or a goat? Goats are options too. Not sheep.

  I was thinking of more when my phone buzzed.

  Reese: What the fuck are you smoking?

  I grinned.

  Me: Boredom and emotional numbness.

  Reese: You’re not high?

  Me: emoticon sad face, followed by emoticon thumbs-down

  Reese: You didn’t have to type that out. Could just do the actual emojis.

  Me: But what’s the fun there?

  Reese: I gotta go. We’re warming up.

  Me: During your winning interview, give me an Easter egg.

  Reese: I like your cockiness. And what do you want?

  Me: Flick your ear, from behind.

  Reese: Okay. Ur with good friends tonight, right?

  Me: You’re starting to more than care for me. Watch yourself, son.

  Reese: Serious.

  I sobered, because damn, the knot in my gut started to thaw.

  Me: This was supposed to be an entertaining relationship. I entertain you. I am the gnat. You’re not supposed to care about the gnat.

  Reese: I do what I want. And I’m being serious. If you’re drinking tonight, you’ll be safe right?

  Me: That’s not proper grammar.

  Reese: This is texting. I don’t give a shit. Answer me.

  I sighed as I heard the sound of tires covering gravel from behind me.

  Me: I’ll be fine. Probably be bored even. Gotta go. My Uber just got here.

  Hadley rolled her window down. She was on the passenger side, a bright smile on her face. “Hey! Ready for some margaritas?”

  My phone buzzed again as I got inside. “Margaritas? I thought you were all about the martinis?”

  Owen laughed as we pulled away.

  “Not at Grant and Sophia’s. Sophia makes amazing margaritas. You’ll see. You’ll love them too.”

  My phone kept going so I pulled it out.

  Reese: So a llama isn’t mistaken for a lama, which is also a Tibetan monk. Google.

  Reese: I have actually. She pinched my ass and I offered her some Ensure.

  Reese: Drapes: Juan. Nothing gets past him when he’s playing defense. Shades: Carzoni because he does his job, but he’s a softy inside. Curtains: Lestroy because he wears his heart on his sleeve so you can see through him at times. Blinds: Crusky because the Cruskinator is hard as nails, though sometimes his humor is sideways.

  Reese: I’m THE goat. You figure out why.

  I barked out a laugh, but covered my mouth quickly. Jesus. I hadn’t expected him to answer, but he always did.

  Hadley twisted around in her seat. “Is that…”

  She bit her lip as I put my phone away. The smart-ass answers could come later, when I was buzzed with even more attitude.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “It was Reese.”

  She glanced to Owen.

  Coughing, he rolled his shoulder back. “So, uh…” His voice was strained.

  Hadley’s wasn’t. Her eyes were big, and her tone was gushing. “What’s the deal with you two? Are you really not sleeping with him? Because, I mean—”

  “Hadley.”

  “What?” She looked back at her husband. “Are we really going to ignore this? She’s texting with Reese Forster! She was freaking out over him herself a week ago.”

  I snorted. “I still do.”

  “See?” Her grin was smug as she turned back to me. She leaned even closer. “Tell us everything. What’s he really like? Is he nice? Is he a dick? Has he put the moves on you? Because you know, ball players can get laid.”

  Owen groaned. “We all know that, but…” He hesitated, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  They were curious. I would’ve been too, if I looked at it from the other side. But I wasn’t on the other side now. And I was protective. Whatever kind of friendship Reese and I had, I needed it. He wasn’t twisting my arm to know about Damian. I didn’t feel obligated to apologize to him for skipping out on years of friendship, or to tear open my insides and show him how I was still devastated, still in pain, still not quite healing.

  I didn’t have to explain anything to him, and that’s why I liked him. I mean, other than the obvious: his ball skills.

  I sat back and shrugged. I needed to proceed with caution. I loved these two people. I owed them too, because they could’ve declared me dead to them, and they hadn’t. But I couldn’t give them what they wanted.

  “He’s cool. He’s funny.”

  “Have you two, you know…”

  “No, Hadley. There’s been nothing like that. Just friends.”

  “But still.” She sighed, moving to sit more forward in her seat, her profile to me. “Can you imagine being friends with someone that famous? I know we get celebrities here sometimes, but we’re staff to them.”

  “Yeah.” I understood.

  “Some are so nice and down-to-earth, but we’re not friends when they leave.”

  “It’s their staff tha
t aren’t so nice sometimes,” Owen added.

  Owen and Hadley shared a laugh, and I knew what they meant. Reese and me, though, this wasn’t just a camp friendship. It didn’t feel like it.

  But maybe it would be. Maybe when he left, and they entered their regular season, that’d be the end of us. I guess if that happened, then that’s what happened.

  Was I really in a place to demand otherwise? I mean, come on. I was a mess, a certifiable, fucked-in-the-head, slightly-crazy-and-I’m-not-joking-about-it sort of mess. Reese had become some form of weird name-calling glue that held me together.

  Was this the beginning of healing?

  Maybe?

  God, I hoped so.

  Either way, when we pulled in to Grant and Sophia’s house, I was more than ready for some margaritas.

  Three hours later, the screen door opened behind me. A beer and a package of smokes landed on the table, and Grant sat beside me.

  I grunted as he yawned, then lit one up. “I forgot you smoked.”

  My stomach knotted. I knew why he’d come out, and the somersaults were going.

  He breathed in, his arm resting on his knee. “Yeah. Just when I’m drinking.” I felt his gaze. “If we were teens, I’d offer you one. You stopped, right?”

  “I only had a few that one summer with you. And they were cigars.”

  I’d gone a whole summer thinking I was badass, sucking in, holding, then exhaling. I never actually inhaled the cigars, and I’d had no clue I was doing it wrong until a friend realized what I was doing. She’d laughed so hard that I gave up cigars after that.

  My voice was hoarse now, from the yelling, cheering, laughing, drinking—just from all the hoopla I’d learned defined a party at Grant and Sophia’s house.

  “I think I’m in love with your fiancée and her family,” I added.

  He grinned, taking another drag, then lifting his beer. “I know. Why do you think I’m marrying her?”

  I grinned, but I didn’t look back to meet his gaze. We were side by side, and it felt right, like old times, though I was still certain he’d come out for a serious talk. And fuck me, but I was going to beat him to the punch.