Chapter Twenty-Three
Thomas
The second we get into the locker room at halftime, I mentally fall into a heap. The guys all pat me on the back as they walk past, and I smile at every one of them, while inside, I’m numb.
We’re losing. For the first time in seven weeks, we won’t have the points advantage going into the second half. Yet, I can’t find it in me to care. This may not be our first loss for the season, but we’ve been on a streak, and as it is my firsttime as the starting quarterback, it’s not going to look good if we lose.
So why do I feel so empty?
I can’t even figure out what the hell we’re doing wrong, and that could be part of the problem. Because from where I’m standing, everyone is playing their hearts out; we’re just not doing enough. Maybe I’m not ready to step up. If I can’t push my personal issues aside for the sake of something I’ve been working toward my entire life, what right do I have to be here?
I go through the motions as Coach gives us his usual pep talk in the form of angry—but well-intentioned—threats, and as we run back onto the field, there’s an air of hope surrounding the team. The rest of the team anyway. I feel nothing. And I can’t see past the fog to even begin to know how to change that.
“How do you think Colton feels after watching you sink his team into the ground?” a reporter asks during my post-game interview.
My fists clench, but when I lock eyes with my agent, I calm down. This is the kind of shit Colton has to deal with all the time. I can’t let it get to me. But God, the timing of it couldn’t be worse. I have enough to deal with outside of football.
Since spinning life’s shit into printable quotes seems to be a thing of mine, I once again pull a statement from my ass and hope that it satisfies the vultures.
“Colton will be proud of the team. He’ll have seen that we tried our best, but unfortunately, LA was better. Their last few games have been phenomenal, and they have a real chance at making the playoffs this year. We’re not the first to lose to them, and we certainly won’t be the last. As a team, we’re going to concentrate on the small wins today. Anderson’s touchdown was one for the record books, and Miles played one of his best games all season. We had a loss today, but it’s only going to make us come back stronger. Watch out for what’s to come.”
“But what about—”
“Thank you all,” our media liaison steps forward, announcing to the room, “we’ve run out of time.”
I hold back a sigh until the judging faces depart, and then sink into the nearest chair, dropping my face into my hands.
“We made mistakes, I made mistakes, but I refuse to take all the blame.” Even though I know deep down, it’s my fault. The heat always falls to the quarterback.
Our offensive coordinator raises an eyebrow as he steps closer. “Unfortunately, that’s the nature of the position you play. That was a great speech, but I need you to maintain that strength behind closed doors. You’re going to need to toughen up.”
What? My eyes flash to his as he lifts his shoulders unapologetically. “It’s true. Having said that, you did well with what you had today. Rhodes’s injury was enough to throw any team off, but we came back and almost won. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
I put on another smile as I nod and thank him for the encouragement. He’s right on all accounts. Today was hard, but other days will be harder, and I don’t just mean with football. I have a lot of truths to face, and I’m not sure I’m ready for any of it.
When my focus drifts back to the locker room, the guys are discussing where to head out for a drink, and while I know I should join them, I’m not in the mood. I haven’t been in the mood since I ran into Dylan at the Ball House and my life spiraled out of control.
So like every other night, I drag my tired ass home for an evening on the couch, drowning my sorrows, hoping tomorrow will be better…while knowing it never is.
Two hellish weeks later, we have our next away game, and with Colton’s wife in the hospital until their baby is born, I’m the starting quarterback once again.
I should be excited. This is what I’ve always dreamed of. But we’re playing in San Francisco. Rain, hail, or shine, my dad will be there, and the anger I feel, knowing I’m so close to that pathetic excuse for a human, makes me want to rage.
And it’s all directed at him.
Drink in hand, I’m pacing the floor of my hotel room when Luke calls, breaking into my thoughts. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, but I know what he wants so figure I should just get it over with.
“Bennett?” I say and then cringe as an anxious feeling fills my chest. I’d stopped calling him by his last name because it reminded me of Lainey. Of their relationship. Of the girl that got away. Only it’s different now, because she’s back and she’s close by.
Taking another swig, I try to divert my thinking. Having Lainey constantly on my mind is not good for anyone, least of all me.
“Did you really think you were going to be able to sneak in and out of town without saying hi?” Luke asks, making me groan.
I had hoped so, yes. “I’m not coming to town.”
Luke scoffs. “Bullshit. You’re the starting quarterback in Seattle’s game against San Francisco on Sunday. It’s all anyone’s been talking about.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m coming to town.” I plan on driving from here to the stadium then back here to the hotel. I’m not passing go and I’m not collecting two hundred dollars unless it’s in liquid form.
“Semantics,” Luke says. “I’ll come to you.”
“Luke. You know how it is. It’s a fly by visit. I’m in and out. Doing my job and that’s it.”
“You’re not even going to come home to see Summer?” His words linger in the air, causing a wave of guilt to flood me. Goddammit, Luke. Of course, I want to see Summer. It’s all I’ve been thinking about, but she hasn’t contacted me once since the day after it all happened and I told her I’d leave it in her hands…that I’d wait for her.
“I don’t have a home there, Luke.”
“Cut the shit, Thomas. The Ball House will always be your home. At least while we’re there. Back to Summer.”
“She’s not ready to see me,” I say honestly because I’m sick of the lies surrounding me.
Luke’s quiet for a moment before he hums in question. “Maybe you need to make more of an effort.”
What? “Luke…” I warn.
“Nah, man. Hear me out. If it was Lainey, she’d be expecting me to make the first move if I’d been the one in the wrong.”
“This isn’t you and Summer’s not Lainey.” Jesus. I don’t need him bringing Lainey up right now. And I did make the first move. I called Summer the next day just like we discussed, only it didn’t seem as though she “loved it” like she said she would. Instead she was quiet, and she told me she needed time. She wasn’t ready and I can’t say I blame her.
“I know. It’s—”
“No, Luke!” I all but yell. “Please. Just let me handle it.”
He’s quiet for a moment, lulling me into a false sense of security until he hits me where it hurts. “Like last time,” he huffs, and I can practically hear his eyes roll, further pissing me off.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It means nothing. Just don’t let too much time pass. You’ll regret it.”
I shake my head even though he can’t see me, and get up from my position on the couch, grabbing another bottle from the minibar, this one a bourbon I haven’t tried before. “You’re an asshole sometimes. You know that, right?”
Luke laughs like this is some big joke, and I thank my lucky stars he’s not here because I would have decked him.
“Yeah, I know,” he says with resignation in his voice. “Just think about it.”
He hangs up and my stomach sinks. I don’t need him to spell it out; I know exactly what he means by “last time.” It’s been plaguing my memories since I found out the truth, thinking about what I could have done differently. Torturing myself with alternative paths I could have taken. Any other paths I could have taken. But this time I’m doing what Summer asked. She wanted time and I’m giving it to her. I, at least, owe her that. Don’t I?
My mind whirs as I sip my drink, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t slow it down. Being in Seattle made it easier to lock my problems away, and I was barely keeping my head above water. Now that I’m close to home, all my issues, all the thoughts and images that keep me up at night, are rising to the surface again. While I’m sinking.
My phone rings again thirty minutes later, and I expect it to be Luke, telling me he’s in the city, but when I check the screen, I wince, seeing that it’s my mom. I swear it’s like she can sense that I’m nearby. She’s been calling me every few days and leaving long-winded voice messages that I refuse to listen to, but today she’s ramped up the calls.
Deep down, I know I’m going to have to talk to her. But I can’t get her betrayal out of my head. The hatred I feel for Dad is one thing. What he did is unforgivable. He’s a monster; there’s no other way to look at it. But Mom. I can’t even think about her actions without my stomach swarming with disgust. How could she just let it happen?
They both deserve to be cut off. Hell, they both deserve far worse. Yet, every time I think about the sick reality of the entire situation, a metaphorical knife slices open my chest, leaving my heart exposed to whoever wants to crush it. And the first person in line…is me. How can I write my mom off completely when I did the same thing? I let it happen. And when all is said and done, the person I hate the most in this fucked-up reality is me.
As the anger seeps into my bones, I pour another drink, and another layer of guilt smothers me. Luke’s right. I should have made more of an effort to find out the truth back then. It’s part of the reason I can’t look at myself now. And if he was right about that, maybe he’s right about this too. Maybe I need to try harder with Summer. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t deserve my wrath.
I scroll through my messages to find my last exchange with Luke, and when I see his name, a vision of Lainey works its way into my mind, making me search for her contact instead.
My pulse quickens when I don’t find her details, until I come across a number I don’t recognize with the initials LLS.
It almost hurts when my lips pull into the first real smile I’ve had in weeks. LLS… Luke’s little sister. Lainey.
A tight feeling works its way into my chest as I think back to that day. About how I left things between us. I should have apologized to her for running that day we first kissed. And I should apologize for kissing her again at the Ball House. I may not remember much of that night, but I remember every moment with Lainey. As though my mind purposely saved the memories to torture me when I’m down.
She did it for me.
She was hurting and she stayed away to protect me. Even after I left her.
I treated her like shit. Like I didn’t care. Like I hated her. When the reality is I was angry because I cared too much. I was falling for her. But instead of telling her that, I pushed her away again, wanting to protect myself.
Is that what I’m doing now? With Summer?
Luke’s words hit me and I have to consider he might be right. At least about Lainey. If he’d done the wrong thing by her, she’d expect him to put in the effort. So maybe I need to do the same…with Summer.
I promised I’d wait for her to reach out, but what if she needs me to prove myself first? What if she’s still terrified that I’ll break her heart again?
Without giving myself the chance to change my mind, I dial her number the second the idea sinks in, but when Cory answers, I know Luke was wrong.
“Thomas, it’s Cory.”
“Cory, hi.” I try to keep the disappointment from my voice, but it’s too thick to hide.
“I’m sorry,” she says, without me having to ask her any questions. “Summer left her phone at home and—”
“Cory,” I cut in. “It’s okay if she’s not ready to talk to me. I’d rather know the truth.”
“She’s going through a lot and…”
“I get it. It’s okay. I’m in town and… It doesn’t matter. Please tell her I’m sorry and that I’ll be here…whenever she wants to talk.”
“She knows. She’s not punishing you, Thomas. It”s just…” She trails off again and I picture her struggling to find the right words. Cory’s always been such a caring soul, and knowing she can’t help would be breaking her.
“I understand. You don’t have to say anything else. I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”
“Yes, you will.” While her tone doesn’t fill me with confidence, at least she didn’t tell me to fuck off.
“Thank you, Cory.” My words are simple but they pack so much meaning. She’s done so much for Summer, I’ll always be grateful for her, even when she delivers bad news.
“I’m sorry again. Bye, Thomas.”
I hang up and the tension leaves my shoulders. I get that Summer needs time, but I’ve never been good at waiting. The unknown pains me. I need to make it up to her. I need to know she’s okay. I need to know we’re okay. Not being able to talk to her, even on the phone, is torture.
But what else can I do?
I jump up to grab myself another drink, but before I’ve made it to the minibar, the answer comes to me. I can’t fix one relationship, but I can try to fix another. I can try to make things right with Lainey.
So, without wasting another second, I throw on a hoodie and call an Uber.
Destination: Heartwood Falls.
I may have no idea where to find her. But I’m not giving up until I do.