Thirty-Two
Reece
I don’t think I’ve ever been truly scared of another human being.
Sure, maybe fictional characters — Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, take your pick. But never in real life. Never once have I felt fear punch straight through my chest at the sight of another human being.
Until now.
Shannon Propst paces in front of me and Stacy as we perch on the uncomfortable vinyl chairs in her office.
She’s got her short arms folded behind her back as the click from the analog clock hanging on her wall fills the silence.
Her dark eyebrows are pulled down over her eyes, her cherub cheeks flushed as she glances back and forth between me, Stacy, and the laminate floor she’s treading on.
We’ve been in her office for three whole minutes and she hasn’t said a damn word to us yet.
I’ve never sweat so much in my life.
“You know, you two have been on my squad for four years now,” she finally says, lowering herself into her squeaky, leather office chair.
She folds her hands together and sets them on top of her mahogany desk, studying the two of us like she’s waiting for us to contradict her. “That’s a long time, no?”
Stacy and I both nod. Stacy’s eyes are wide as they stay laser-focused on Shannon, her face white like she’s seen a ghost and I can only imagine I look the same way.
“Stacy, you’re my second in command. That’s impressive. Reece, you’ve been a pain in my ass at times but you’re one hell of a base and you’ve both stuck it out with this team for a good, long while,” she goes on.
We bob our heads again, like two terrified robots trained to react.
I have no idea what Shannon’s about to say, but I’ve never been called into my coach’s office before on such short notice so I know it can’t be good.
I feel like I’m a kid again, called to the principal’s office in school for goofing off and distracting the class.
Except I feel like this may be much worse than distracting my third grade science class.
Shannon leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “So you would think that by now, you’d both know the rules about fraternizing with teammates.”
Ah. There it is.
I hear Stacy audibly swallow beside me before she starts to speak. “Coach, we can explain.”
“Explain?” Shannon chuckles dryly, throwing her hands up.
“Sure. Explain to me how I heard from a credible source that you two were making some very questionable choices at a football party a while back. Or how a campus security guard found you two making some poor decisions in a car on school property . And do not get me started on the hockey party on Halloween weekend. ”
If Stacy had any blood left in her face, it’s drained entirely now as I lean over and whisper, “Does she have eyes everywhere ?”
“Taylor,” Propst snaps. “This is serious. You two aren’t freshmen, you know better. It’s in the university’s code of conduct for athletes, I’m not just being a hard ass—”
“It’s fake,” Stacy interrupts her, licking her lips a few times. “We’re just pretending to date.”
I feel my entire body deflate at her statement. It’s entirely true, our relationship is fictional and all for show. But hearing the adamant reminder from Stacy stings more than I want to admit.
Propst quirks a brow. “Fake?”
Stacy nods but I can’t speak. “We’re helping each other out.
We both have some shitty situations going on with our families right now and…
” She glances at me and I feel my heart start to crack open.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. We’re giving each other a hand to get our families off our backs. None of it’s real.”
Propst narrows her eyes as she evaluates us.
I know I should speak up but I feel like all of my words are caught in my throat.
If I say anything, I’m afraid it’ll be something about how none of this feels fake, not at all.
How my relationship with Stacy feels like one of the most important things in my life right now and how I can’t imagine not having her around.
So I don’t say anything at all.
“Well.” Propst stands. “I can’t have the athletic director coming to me ever again questioning me about my athletes and an inappropriate relationship between them.
You two are being foolish and reckless. If you’re going to have some…
fa ke relationship,” she sneers, “make sure you keep it off campus and to yourselves.”
Stacy nods but my throat is too tight to do anything at all.
“And this better not be real.” Coach jabs a finger at us.
“Keep this ridiculous agreement in check or you’ll both be facing suspension.
I’m serious. You’re lucky I’m letting you cheer at Saturday’s game because I’m still highly, highly considering suspending you both anyway for putting me through this. ”
“Not necessary,” Stacy promises fervently. “No more recklessness. I swear.”
Propst gives us a curt nod, glowering at us both. “One more chance,” she says, sticking her index finger in the air. “Don’t piss me off. Now, get out of my office.” She jerks her head towards the door to dismiss us, immediately swiveling over to her computer and typing away.
Stacy and I both amble up and let ourselves out of the office.
We numbly and silently walk out of the athletic building and into the November afternoon.
Campus is bustling, happy faces and the buzz of a beautiful fall day in the air, but I don’t feel a thing.
I turn to Stacy and open my mouth to speak but she beats me to it.
“We need to dial it back,” she says in a rush.
Her words hit me like a slap and I don’t say anything for a long moment while I stare at her.
She’s got her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth set in a grim line, eyes flicking anywhere but my face.
The breeze is whipping her blonde hair around in her face but she doesn’t make a move to push it back as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
People pass by us in a blur on the sidewalk but I feel frozen in time as Stacy shifts uncomfortably.
“What do you mean?” I finally manage .
Stace shrugs. “I mean I think our arrangement has gotten a little bit out of hand lately. Maybe we need to remember that this whole thing is supposed to be fake.”
Fake .
Something pinches in my chest as I nod. “Fake,” I repeat.
“Yeah. We’ve only run into Lily a couple times on campus so maybe we’re overdoing it.
We can go back to our original agreement and only pretend around our families.
We can go home together for the holidays and go to Nashville for the bachelor party.
I’ll attend the wedding shower. I’ll still be at the wedding.
But other than that, we should probably take it down a notch. ”
I swallow down the lump building in my throat as I study her stony expression. It’s an expression I recognize, an expression I used to see on Stacy all the time. It’s an expression I hoped I’d never see again.
Her walls are back up. She’s pushing me out.
She’s pushed me out.
I glance around, trying desperately to find the right words. “Is that really what you want?” I settle on.
Stacy gives me a curt nod. “I mean, you heard Propst.” She gestures towards the athletic building. “We’re playing with fire. We’ve already gone too far with this and…” Stace trails off, shaking her head and sucking on her lip.
I take a step into her against my better judgment, catching her elbow.
“Stace.” I crane down my neck to meet her gaze, her expression completely unreadable.
“Tell me right now that you don’t want anything more with me.
Tell me this has really all been an act and I’ll let it go.
We’ll be friends and teammates and nothing else. ”
Stacy’s eyes dance around, landing anywhere but on my face as she whispers, “This has all been an act. I just want to be friends and teammates. Nothing else.”
My stomach drops to the sidewalk as I let go of Stacy’s elbow, taking a step back from her. I nod, something ugly building up in my chest as my throat thickens. I swallow back whatever emotions are trying to overflow and give her a once-over.
She’s so goddamn beautiful.
But she’s not mine. She never has been.
It’s better this way. Better I don’t fall for her anymore. Better that we quit while we’re ahead, I suppose.
“Okay, then,” I finally say, giving her a weak smile. “We’ll have to talk Thanksgiving plans soon. See you at practice tomorrow.”
Stacy says nothing as I turn away to walk towards our apartment complex.
I allow myself to feel all the bad feelings on my trek home, but when I get up to my unit, the bad feelings are still lingering.
I’m having a harder time than usual compartmentalizing the negative emotions and even my overflowing journal and frantic writing isn’t helping dispel the terrible ache in my chest.
I give up on journaling and lay back on my bed, allowing myself to feel all of my feelings because, hell, it doesn’t seem like they’re going anywhere.
This is why I don’t fall in love anymore.