28. Miles
28
MILES
“Jay, it’s me. Voicemail’s a shitty way to do this, but we have to start somewhere and you probably have guard dogs trained on my scent outside your house. I get that you’re upset, but we need to talk. This thing is bigger than us and we owe it to the people we care about to figure it out.”
* * *
K idnapping is never the answer.
Except when it’s the only answer.
“We’re heading into the most important part of the season and you’re acting like idiots. Normally we’d send you to Kodiak Camp to be useful, but you’re terrible role models for those kids,” Coach snapped the day after the game, when he called me into a meeting. “You can’t play, and we can’t have you in public.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“Sort your shit out.”
Jay and I both scored two-game suspensions and five-figure fines.
The past week, neither of us have been playing games or practicing with the team. It takes three days of lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling while knowing the team is practicing without me before I have the idea.
I don’t want to involve Brooke because she’d think it’s a nightmare.
“No fucking way,” Atlas states when I call him with my request. “I’m injured, but I’ll never get back to the team if I help with this because I’ll be dead.”
“You don’t help, you won’t have a team to come back to,” I warn.
In the end, Clay’s the one who comes through and tells the other guys to get onboard.
Atlas throws a bag over his head and puts him in a van, telling him it’s a prank. We used to do our share of them, especially back before we took ourselves so seriously.
“Where are we going?” Jay calls from the back seat.
I’m in the front with Atlas, but I don’t answer. Don’t want him knowing until the last minute.
Atlas drops us off in an area full of snow, surrounded by trees. “Have a good time, man.” He tosses me a skeptical look before driving away.
“Who’s there?”
I pull the bag off Jay’s head.
His confusion and irritation instantly turn to disbelief and anger. “Where the hell are we?”
“Middle of nowhere.”
His head swivels wildly as he looks around. “We can’t be here.”
Laughing probably isn’t the best move, but I can’t help it. “Actually, we can’t be anywhere else. No one wants us.”
I give him a moment for that to sink in.
“Atlas helped with this? He’s a dead man.”
“And Clay. And Rookie.” I sigh. “We need peace for the sake of team. You told me back in college that the team is a family. It’s not worth throwing that away over whatever the hell this is.”
“Don’t lecture me on family. You’re the one who stuck yourself in the middle of mine.” He paces toward the treelike, kicking at snow as if he wishes it would hurt him back.
“Think what you want about me, but this isn’t Brooke’s fault. I don’t want her hurt.”
“You don’t get to say that.” Jay spins to face me, stabbing a gloved hand in the air. “Mom cut her off, and she told me nothing? But she went to you. Why?”
The change of directions throws me for a beat.
“I honestly don’t know. If I had to guess…maybe because she didn’t want to disappoint you. Or she didn’t want you fixing her problems and she knew you would. You’ll always be her big brother.”
A sudden gust of wind shakes the trees, sending snow sliding off the needles.
I’m a guy who plays around and doesn’t talk a lot about feelings. So instead of trying to make it less of a big deal, I change gears.
“Remember back in college when we did tree planting?” I say. “They explained to us how the root system works. I liked the idea of a tree growing, getting stronger. That trees talk to each other, their roots taking more or less depending on how the trees are growing. I’ve always done that. I try to make sure everyone’s getting along. And I know you do too.
“I didn’t realize how fucking thirsty I’d gotten. Until she was there.” I force myself to take a long breath, shoving a hand through my hair until I feel it stick up. “She’s been there for years, but the moment she asked me if I’d help with that sorority weekend, the answer was yes. At first I told myself it was because she needed me. Hell, maybe that was part of it, but not all of it. I needed her.”
He blinks but doesn’t turn away.
“I’ve wanted her for longer than I should’ve. If you want to be pissed, be pissed about that. Because the way I feel about her now…there’s no helping it. And I wanted to talk to you about it,” I go on, not even stopping for breath. “The fact that I couldn’t sucked. Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone. She makes me better, man. I can only hope to do the same for her.”
Jay’s jaw works, but he doesn’t respond.
I run a hand over the tree trunk closest to me, marveling at how it stands up to the winter. Stands up to everything.
“I want to put what’s between us aside for the team. If you don’t want to trust me again off the court… So be it. But everyone’s doubting us, calling us a one-hit wonder. We have to prove that we’ve still got it.”
Jay paces in front of me. There’s a good chance he’ll tell me to fuck off. When he stalks toward me, getting right in my face, I think he’s going to do more than talk.
“Aright,” he says at last.
“We’re good?” I can barely hope for it.
“We’re teammates. We need to get this back on track or else we’ll be watching the playoffs from our sofas.”
“And friends?”
He shakes his head. “That’s for another day.”
It’s not everything, but I’ll take what I can.
Jay looks around. “It’s fucking cold here. How do we get back?”
“We’re only twenty minutes from Kodiak Camp.”
He curses at me. “Which way?”
I pull out my phone. Then realize there’s no signal. “Guess it’s good we’ve got nowhere to be today.”