Off-Limits Roomates

54. Ella

54

***Ella***

I brought the gift bag home with me for Thanksgiving. I was too afraid of what I thought was inside of it and what it would make me feel to open it but I couldn’t be away from it. Mom didn’t mention it, thankfully, and it stayed on my side table, just out of reach.

Mom had done a lot of things to make sure I was okay. She only talked about the guys if I brought them up first. She saw that I’d lost a few pounds since she’d last seen me and she made all my favorite foods to guarantee I found those pounds and some. She sat with me on my first day back home and watched hours of court TV, despite hating it. The one thing she refused to give up was football, though. As much as she loved me, football had been her first love. Well. Men who played football had been her first love. The game was a quick second and it stuck long after the men did.

Her daughter’s college football team was in a division championship the day before Thanksgiving and she wasn’t going to miss it, no matter how many dirty looks I shot her way. Natalie had texted me first thing, just before the game started, to tell me that she definitely wasn’t going to watch the game. Not a chance of her doing anything like that, she’d assured me. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at her antics as I told her to watch the game.

I could’ve stayed in my room for the length of the game but that felt like a punishment in itself. Sitting there with a gift bag that I wouldn’t open, straining to hear the names that I desperately did, and didn’t, want to hear from the next room, it sounded miserable. Instead of hiding, I paced behind the couch and drove Mom crazy during the first half of the game.

Every mention of the guys made my heart thump a little harder. The amount of air time they gave Vaughn and Fisher from the sidelines was wild and I found myself critiquing the cameraman. Chris would never. The continuous shots of them, helmets off, faces and hair wet with swamp, was almost enough to send me running to my room. Mom kept shooting me looks, though, like she was waiting for me to run and I dug my feet in.

It was a shot of Booth that hit me hardest. He was sitting on the bench with his head hung low, no trace of happiness on his face. His dimples were gone as he shot a look at the camera and glanced away just as quickly. His team was winning, most of his teammates were buzzing with energy. Booth looked like his pet had just been put down.

Mom even sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of him. “Oh.”

I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Don’t say a word.”

“I wasn’t going to.” She cleared her throat and continued to stare at the TV. “It’s just that he looks heartbroken.”

“Mom.” Coming around to sit next to her on the couch, I curled my legs under me and shook my head. “Don’t.”

“I’m not!” She managed to stay quiet through the halftime show and then cleared her throat again right after the third quarter started. “So.”

The Crocs were playing defense so the guys weren’t on the field. I looked over at her and raised my eyebrows in a silent question.

“How are you doing?”

I leaned away from her on the armrest of the couch and scowled. It wasn’t at her, just at the world in general. “It’s Thanksgiving and I’m supposed to focus on the things I’m grateful for, right? Well, I’m grateful for you and for being away from that campus.”

The opposing team scored on the TV and Mom shouted. “What the fuck, ref? How did you miss that holding call? Do your job!”

I rolled my lips into my mouth and then felt a pang of sadness as the camera panned to Fisher completing a few practice throws on the sideline. He looked up and it was like he was staring straight at me before he glanced away. My next breath was a little harder.

“Oof. That kid can do broody, can’t he?” Mom saw my look and held up her hands. “Sorry! It was just an observation.”

I’d never seen Fisher attempt anything close to brooding before the night of their party. He was usually so quick with a charming smirk. The few times I hadn’t been able to hide from them on campus, he’d been nothing like the guy I’d first met. Just thinking about it made me feel guilty, like I’d helped take away something fun from the world. That thought always sent me down a spiral of anger and frustration, though, because I hadn’t caused the whole mess. They had.

We watched the rest of the third quarter in silence. I was lost in my feelings while Mom was on the edge of her seat. The other team had gotten fired up during halftime and they were giving the guys a fight. They went into the final quarter tied.

“I swear to god if they lose this game, Ella, I’m going down there and I’m going to kick all their asses.” Mom stood up and took over my pacing. “I want to see a national championship with a team I have ties to. Even if those ties are a little loose currently.”

“Loose? Mom, they’re not loose. They’re non-existent.” I turned my glare on the TV as they showed Fisher throwing a perfect touchdown pass to Vaughn. “Yay. Touchdown.”

Mom winced at my sarcastic tone. “Ella, I’m not sure you-”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Mom.” I was being an ass but seeing the guys was cutting deep. I’d celebrated almost every win with them. I knew how much they loved the cookies I baked for them. They came home after each game, happy to see me and my baked goods.

“The second this game is over, you and I are going to have a hard talk, young lady.” She could barely look away from the screen as the Crocs defense fought the other team’s offense from moving down the field. “Interception! Interception! Holy shit! Yes!”

I nearly had a heart attack from her sudden screaming. Holding my hand over my chest, I watched as the camera panned to Vaughn and Fisher walking onto the field and I saw what a massive contrast there was between them and the rest of the team. The rest of the team was losing their minds in excitement. Vaughn and Fisher looked like they were marching in a funeral procession.

I sat there with that image in my head for the rest of the game. Mom lost her mind as our team won and then she sat down calmly next to me like none of it had happened.

“Okay. Time for that hard talk.” She reached to mute the TV but we both froze when the shot switched from an overview of the field, where students had run onto the green to celebrate, to a close up interview with Fisher just to the side of the chaos. Confetti rained down behind him, some of it catching in his sweaty hair. He was red-faced and his uniform was stained with grass and dirt. He was the picture of the champion athlete, if you didn’t look at his eyes too closely.

The journalist interviewing him was a pretty blonde in our school colors. “We just watched you break the passing record for your division, Fisher. How are you feeling right now, after this win?”

Fisher stared into the camera and I saw him catch his breath before speaking. “Honestly?”