26. Jordan
CHAPTER 26
JORDAN
L ucy has no shortage of admirers. And adoring fans. And guys looking to make a move now that she’s back on the market.
Why did she need multiple bouquets of flowers from various groups of football players? Like, not just one from the whole team. She received one from the offensive line, one from special teams, and even one from the quarterback and receivers.
I can’t be certain, but it seems rather obvious that word is out: it’s open season on Lucy Townes. It’s a sentiment that sounds crass, but it’s certainly how all these guys are viewing the situation. After all, Lucy was finally willing to date someone, which is something she’d never done before. Now that we broke up, it’s every guy’s dream scenario–they finally have the green light to shoot their shot with her.
It’s clear that information is now circulating. And apparently, no one is willing to waste this opportunity.
I’m still taking care of her until her roommates return, but I’m starting to second-guess how much abuse I want to endure. From the moment we roll up to the arena to the second we leave, the jackals surround her .
She makes it easy for them, too, by crutching away from me and asking various people to carry her bags. People who aren’t me. Typically male-type people. Some of the football players have even taken to waiting for her practices to get done so they can carry her out to my car–I bet it’s absolutely brutal for her to sit on the sidelines watching practice without being able to participate. But being the selfless teammate she is, Lucy has been there every day with a positive attitude. Her attitude surrounding the help she’s receiving from every male on this campus is rather sunny as well.
I have to sit there and watch her laugh and smile as she’s carried by some guy looking far too smug. I have to unclench my fists. This is my own doing. But man, jealousy is poisonous. I’m basically decaying from the inside out because I feel it 24/7.
Every once in a while, I’ll catch her watching me out of the corner of her eye, but when I turn to look, she’s back to hamming it up with the other stars on campus. It’s more painful than I’d care to admit. She’s trying to prove to me that she’s unbothered–although we both know neither of us is even close to that.
It also makes me feel exceptionally replaceable. Whether she intends to or not, her playing around with other guys right in front of me invalidates that our connection went beyond sports.
She’s filling my shoes with a different random athlete every day.
Regrettably and without my permission, my imagination is taking the little snippets I’m witnessing and running wild. I don’t think she’s talking to anyone else yet, although I’ve seen messages pop up on her phone when I’m silently driving her to rehab or bringing her ice for her ankle.
Or doing any of the things that make me an absolute simp.
When we were together, I didn’t mind being called that by my teammates. It was true, and I owned the title with pride. But now we aren’t together, and it just seems a little desperate. Which is absolutely what I am. Desperate to maintain any semblance of connection with this girl before she gets drafted and never thinks about me again.
This is my final thought as I drop her off for the last time at the Boat. I’m really going to miss this place. Hanging out with these girls made me feel like I had a real group of friends. But alas, AJ just got back into town and is more than willing to take care of Lucy moving forward.
Which should be a great thing–less work for me and all.
Instead, I feel like I actually have to say goodbye to Lucy. She opens her door, finally rid of the crutches, pulls her bag out, and steps onto the curb. Her hesitation is apparent in the five seconds she just stands there, staring at her house.
Then she turns and meets my eyes for the first time in days.
“Thank you, Jordan. This was one of the most selfless ways I’ve ever been cared for in my life. Actually, probably the most selfless.” Her eyes glisten, and she blinks away the tears. “I . . . umm… I’m really going to miss you.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she’s already slammed the door and is limping across the lawn. With every fiber of my being, I want to yell after her. I want to hold her and keep her safe.
I desperately want to kiss her.
But instead, I pull away slowly.
This is selfless, I tell myself for the millionth time. But this time another voice pipes up and introduces a new sentiment.
This is cowardly.
I shove that one down. I’m just doing what has to be done. She deserves better. She deserves the world, and all I have to offer is a baggage-ridden me.
The rest of the drive home is spent debating with that second voice in my head. Unfortunately, that voice sounds like Lucy, which makes me want to listen to it. By the time I reach my room, the debate is reaching fever pitch.
It’s not cowardly to put her future above my own happiness.
It is when you could actually do something about it.
What could I even do?
Maybe sack up and face your dad.
I don’t even know if that would change anything.
Well, you’ve never tried. You’ve acted like the victim for way too long.
That seems a little harsh. I–
My silent argument is interrupted by an aggressive knocking on my door. Less than two seconds later, the door is thrown open by AJ, looking positively livid. Behind her stands Tyler, looking like he’s ready for the entertainment to begin.
AJ storms in and stands in front of me. I think she’s purposely about to deliver a harsh judgment while looking down on me. It’s quite fitting.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I force my expression to remain neutral.
“Hello to you too, AJ.”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “Nope, we aren’t being cute right now, you jackass. You did the exact thing I warned you not to. And don’t feel like you can explain something I don’t already know–Lucy gave me all the details. Specifically the one about you breaking up with her to protect her and her future. She’s a saint and is trying to be understanding, despite you absolutely obliterating her heart.”
My chest gets tight. Hearing it articulated makes me want to rip my own heart out. Her whole happy charade this week had me wondering if I was imagining how invested we both were. I’m oddly relieved to know it was all real, but more so, I feel like a total jerk.
AJ continues. “Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. ”
I freeze. The room is silent as my eyes dart between her fiery face and Tyler’s amused one. I can barely sputter a response. I’m back on my heels, and she knows it.
“Umm, what? I’m looking out for her.”
She scoffs. “Really? ’Cause I think you’re being a coward, and you know it.”
“Excuse me?”
Her expression gets sassy. “What, you think you’re the only one who’s ever had to stand up to a parent? Oh, buddy, I’ve got news for you. Over-involved parents come in all shapes and sizes–and wealth demographics. My parents, for example, tried to buy my way into certain teams, tried to control who I could be friends with so I made sure to stay in the good graces of the powers that be, and even wanted to pull me from school so soccer was the center of my life.”
Oh, damn. As much as I’ve always wanted to be rich, that sucks. As much as he’s ruined certain things for me, at least my dad didn’t try to control every aspect of my existence. I’m suddenly very curious about how AJ got her edge and devil-may-care approach to confrontation.
We barely know each other and this is our second stern conversation–both of which she has initiated. I’m more than a little impressed.
“Okay, AJ. School me. How does one stand up to a parent such as this? How did you do it?”
She shrugs, like it’s the simplest answer in the world. “I just quit soccer. They went ballistic when I refused to go to practice or training…or any of the other million things I was signed up for. I told them I felt like all I was to them was a trophy. Soccer was all we talked about. It was the only thing they ever asked me about—it was the only thing they ever discussed with each other. It had taken over our lives.”
She exhales, like she’s trying to slow down.
“Anyway, I also told them that I loved them a lot and I just wanted them to view me as their daughter. Soccer aside, I needed to know they loved me and were proud of me whether I quit altogether or became an Olympian.”
I feel a lump rise in my throat. This is a different version of the same story I’ve been living. To hear my parents–specifically my dad–tell me that he loved me regardless of what happened on a basketball court, not because of it, would change everything.
I wonder if we could ever get there, but I really doubt it. I look at AJ.
“That actually worked?”
My tone radiates doubt.
She stares off to the right of me, like she’s remembering.
“Not immediately. It took a while–not for them to tell me they loved me but for a real relationship to form. There were weeks when we barely spoke because I had forbidden any soccer talk and they didn’t know how to talk about anything else. Eventually, it worked. It took some really difficult conversations to get there, though.”
I nod slowly. I wish all it would take would be difficult conversations, but my history with my dad is too wrought with selfishness. He has ruined every single meaningful relationship I’ve had–friends, coaches, teammates.
He hurt those people, in addition to hurting me. He used them and manipulated them–took full advantage of the kindness of those around me.
And this isn’t just about me.
It all comes back to protecting Lucy.
For a moment, as I listened to AJ, I thought maybe I could follow her example. But I know it’s not that simple. It never has been. There’s a reason I did what I did. There’s a reason I’m putting myself through the worst heartache I’ve ever experienced.
My father is a person who will never be satisfied.
I used to think I could do it. If I just played well and made varsity, he’d be happy. He wasn’t. Then I thought if I just earned a scholarship, he’d be proud of me. He wasn’t. Next, I let myself believe if I was a good college basketball player, he’d be content with everything we had. It was not the case.
Soon, the sponsorship deals entered the picture–there was real money at stake. He was insatiable in his pursuit of deals and partnerships. His greed knew no bounds. That’s when I finally recognized I could never actually give him what he wanted.
Yet I still try.
I look back up at AJ, who has been patiently sitting in the heavy silence with me.
“I appreciate you coming over here. I’m so glad Lucy has a friend like you. But it’s not that simple. I wish things were different, but they aren’t.”
She stands up and turns to leave. Stopping in the doorway, she looks over her shoulder at me.
“You know, I genuinely thought you’d fight for her. I actually believed in you. I’m really disappointed.”
Her words cut me like a knife.
She saw the good in me and I let her down–just like I did to Lucy.
AJ’s right about one thing: I’m a coward.