Chapter 52
TALLY
It was a close call with my parents. Phillip made it to the kitchen before they walked through the door, but we didn’t set the table for dessert and I needed a minute to collect myself before I came downstairs. I brought my high school photo albums, and hoped it was a good enough decoy.
Mom and Dad seemed a little preoccupied, though, so if they noticed the vibe between me and Phillip, no one mentioned it.
My exams start in two days, so I should have Phillip drive me back to my apartment after dinner, but he leaves tomorrow morning for an away series, so I want to sleep next to him tonight.
“Are you okay?” Phillip asks on the way back to his place.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “The whole night was…awkward?”
“Should I have handled things differently?” Anxiety seeps into his tone. “Was it the sex?”
“The sex was part of it. I wanted it, but it felt like it happened and we weren’t really there.” I wring my hands. “I wanted to feel closer to you, but I didn’t.” I don’t want him to leave on an away series with a chasm between us.
“There’s a lot going on. With us, with your parents, with school and dance.” He covers my hand with his.
“I know.” I want things to be stable, but I don’t know how to achieve that.
We arrive at his place and take the elevator to his apartment. It’s not even ten, but I’m exhausted, and his flight leaves early tomorrow morning, so we get ready for bed. At least there’s comfort in the domestic routine.
He gives me privacy so I can use the bathroom on my own. My favorite tumbler sits on the nightstand on my side, and Phillip is perched on the edge of the mattress, shirtless, wearing his typical pajama pants. He reaches for me and I slip my hand in his, letting him pull me between his thighs.
“I want us to be okay,” he says softly.
“I want the same thing.” I settle my hands on his shoulders, seeking comfort in the contact. This feels like the most natural part of the entire day. I wrap my arms around him and tuck my face against his neck. For a minute we just breathe.
“I’m terrified of losing you,” he admits.
“Same,” I whisper. “I just need you to keep being honest with me, even when it’s hard. Especially then.”
“I know. I’m working on getting better at it. I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult for us.”
“You’re trying and that’s what matters.” I want to be able to tell him how I really feel about him, but I need it to be because we’re in a good place and not desperate to connect.
We climb into bed and he tucks me against him. I want the physical closeness to be enough, but the emotional distance is an uncrossable bridge, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I wake alone the next morning. Phillip had an early flight, so it shouldn’t be a surprise, but I sort of hoped he would wake me up and say goodbye.
I roll over, my chest already tight with his absence. I rub it, hoping to ease the ache, then glance at the nightstand. Sitting next to my phone is a flower made out of pipe cleaner and a note.
Tally,
I miss you already.
I’ll message you when I’m on the ground and settled in the hotel.
Xo
Yours,
Phillip
I run my fingers over the lines. I want him to write the words I feel in my heart.
I leave the warmth of his bed and get dressed.
The flower and note are tucked in my bag, as well as the hoodie that smells like him from the front hall.
I pour myself a mug of coffee—he brewed me a fresh pot before he left—and take the subway back to campus.
I get in half an hour of study time, so at least it’s not time wasted.
I meet Arya and Charles at the theater for our first dress rehearsal slot.
It does not go seamlessly. “I’m sorry I’m so off.
This is all me.” I kept flubbing the routine, and every screw up feels insurmountable.
We only made it through once without any issues, but even then, it still wasn’t perfect.
“It’s okay. We have two more rehearsal sessions on stage to get it all down. You’re under a lot of pressure, Tally. We will get it right and everything will be fine,” Arya assures me.
“You’re right. We have time. We know this routine.” I’m so on edge, struggling to keep it together.
I drop them off at their apartments, but have to circle back to the studio because I forgot to leave the key in the lockbox for my classmates.
Normally I’m not this scattered. Once I’m home, I settle in to study for my written exams. My marks aren’t quite as strong as I would like, so again, the pressure is on.
The swirling anxiety over how Phillip and I left things makes it tough to focus.
I drink chamomile tea and do a calming meditation, but I’m so wiped out from the stress of it all that I fall asleep and don’t wake until midnight.
The apartment is dark and quiet. My door is open enough for Parsnip to come and go as he pleases. He’s currently lying on my Phillip pillow, paw over his eyes.
I reach for my phone and see that I missed three video calls and several messages from Phillip while I slept.
Flip
Landed. I’ll message when I’m settled in the hotel.
Had to get on the ice basically right away. Sorry it’s been a bit. How are you? Did you get the flower?
Everything okay? Message when you get this.
Cammie told me you were passed out hard with a textbook on your chest. I’ll try to message before your exam tomorrow. I sent over some East Side’s in case you need study fuel. Heading to bed because we’re on the ice early tomorrow.
The missed opportunity feels like an omen that sends me back into a worry spiral.
Little things feel huge. Once I’m calm enough, I heat up some of the food he had delivered while reviewing notes.
It’s not exceptionally productive since I’m still drowsy from my four-hour nap.
After my exceptionally late dinner, I try to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake.
Staring at the ceiling won’t help, so I study until three in the morning, then force myself to close my eyes.
My exam is at eight thirty, and I can’t risk conking out in the middle of it because I pulled an all-nighter.
Besides, I have dance practice in the afternoon and more studying in the evening for exam number two.
I set my alarm for seven thirty, and toss and turn for a while.
The last time I look at the clock, it’s just after five.
“Talls?” Fee shakes on my shoulder. “You have to wake up! Your exam is in less than half an hour.”
I sit up in a rush. “What? I set my alarm for seven-thirty.” The clock on my nightstand doesn’t lie, though. It’s after eight.
I throw off my covers. “Fuck. It takes fifteen minutes to walk across campus.”
“What if you drive?”
“Parking will eat whatever time I save.”
“I’ll drive you over. Get dressed, and I’ll make you a coffee and bagel.”
“Fuck!” I’m so sick of being on the emotional ledge.
“It’s okay. You have time. You won’t be late.”
I shove the panic down, throw on jogging pants and a hoodie, brush my teeth, pull my hair into a topknot, and ignore my puffy eyes. There’s nothing that can be done.
Fee meets me at the door with coffee, a bagel, writing implements, and my phone, which I apparently forgot in my room. “Deep breath, you’ll be okay.”
She opens the door and we nearly trip over a takeout bag from my favorite bakery. Fee thwarts a Parsnip escape, grabs the bag, and ushers me down the hall.
“Do you want to talk or will that just make it worse?” Fee asks.
We hop in my car and I check my alarm. “I set it for seven thirty p.m. instead of a.m.”
“It’s happened to all of us. You’ll be okay,” she reassures me.
“I’m so glad you were there to wake me up.”
“Me, too.” She thumbs over her shoulder to the backseat where the breakfast takeout sits untouched. “You should send Flip a message.”
“Crap. Thanks.”
I quickly message Phillip while Fee drives across campus. She drops me at the back of the building. “I’m going to park in the closest lot and drop a pin so you can find the car after your exam.” She passes me the second set of keys.
“What about you?”
“It’s a fifteen minute walk back to the apartment, and I’ll stop and say hi to Enid on the way. Good luck this morning.”
“Thank you.” I kiss her on the cheek and rush inside, making it with only a minute to spare.
I’m scattered, and I can’t get out from under the mountain of worry.
I have to rush through the essay question at the end, and I don’t have time to go back and check my multiple choice.
At least half a dozen are guesses. This course was already borderline for honor roll, and I can’t really afford for this mark to slip.
I have new messages from Phillip asking how my exam went.
I desperately want to lie, but know I can’t.
So I reply with honesty and tell him I think the exam went okay, then head to the studio, grateful all over that Fee left me the car.
I’m in no better form today than I was yesterday, and the worry on Arya and Charles’s faces when I get the sequence wrong for the third time in a row spikes my already out of control anxiety. I don’t have time for a break down.
“I don’t want to come across as like, mom energy, but have you eaten today?” Arya asks.
“Of cour—” I stop, bite my lip. Fee made me a bagel, but I left it on the dash. And the breakfast Phillip sent is still in the back seat of my car.
“Let’s get something from the café, even a muffin and juice would be good, so your sugar isn’t crashing,” Charles suggests.
“I have food in my car. I’ll run out and get it.
” The bag from Phillip is full of all my favorite things, including fresh squeezed juice.
I’m in much better form and far less shaky after I eat.
Practice goes better. It’s not perfect, but we still have two stage rehearsals left, and that’s a comfort.
By the time I get back to my apartment, the guys are already on the ice.
This is the last away series of the regular season, and these games will impact where they start the playoffs.
If they aren’t on the right side of the points, they could end up being out of town during my final showcase of the year.
I heat up my leftover East Side’s and settle in for another night of studying. I try to stay focused, but the broken sleep, anxiety, and the adrenaline crash hits hard and I’m struggling to stay awake.
I set my timer for twenty minutes and close my eyes. I crash hard, my timer going off for a full two minutes before I rouse. But at least I didn’t sleep through the game. Which the Terror lose.
The weight of everything comes crashing down. Exams, my final performance, my family, my relationship with Phillip.
I know better than to text him when I’m elevated, but my phone is already in my hand and my worries spill out of my fingertips.