Chapter 7
MAREK
Eleven months later
“What’s your New Year’s resolution?”
I look at the hot blonde standing next to me sipping her cocktail in the middle of the party at Club Crystal. She’s been following me around all night. Maybe she’s the answer to my resolution.
My resolution is to get over Nikki Sullivan.
Nah, I’m not going to say that out loud. And especially not to her. But taking her home with me might help me get over Nikki.
I’ve tried that, though. I’ve dated a few women since that night at the All Star game, thinking that would help. It didn’t.
It’s been almost a year and even I know I can’t go on like this. But hooking up with Georgia isn’t the way.
“My resolution is the same as every year,” I say with a smile. “No serious relationships.”
Her smile falters. “Oh.”
“I have to go. We have a game tomorrow.” I set my empty glass (which was water) on the bar. “Nice to meet you, Georgia.”
I see the disappointed dip of her lips. I’m not being an asshole. I’m being honest.
I find Mabel and Benny talking to Archie and Andi. The two couples are almost nauseatingly cute and blissful. I’m happy for all of them, but it makes me feel lonely and pathetic.
What has happened to me? I was the guy who didn’t want commitment, who just wanted to have fun. Now I’m Dougie Downer, moping over a woman who doesn’t want me.
Benny and Mabel are ready to leave, too, so we all head out together. We booked a car and it pulls up in front of the club after only a couple of minutes. Benny lives in the same condo building as me, and Mabel has now moved in with him, so we’re all going to the same place.
In the back seat I lean my head back and let out a long exhalation.
“That was fun!” Mabel says.
“No, it wasn’t,” Benny replies.
I grin. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Okay, it wasn’t terrible,” Benny admits. “For about an hour.”
“You wanted to leave before the ball even dropped in Times Square,” she chides him.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Benny’s an introvert. He’s come out of his shell a lot since he and Mabel got together. He actually hired her to coach him on how to be extroverted. And she’s the perfect person to teach that. Which is why she loved the big, glitzy party while Benny wanted to hide in a corner.
“I can’t believe we have a game tomorrow,” Benny says.
“Yeah, that’s just cruel,” Mabel adds.
“Right?” I agree.
“Who was that girl you were talking to?” Mabel elbows my arm. “She was pretty.”
“Georgia. Yeah, very pretty.”
“Did you exchange numbers? Make a date?”
I slide her a grumpy glance. “No.”
She heaves a sigh. “Marek.”
“What? I wasn’t interested.”
“You’re never interested in anyone anymore. I thought when you were seeing Bristol maybe that was turning into something.”
“Nah. That was just casual.”
“You don’t even do that anymore,” she persists.
She’s not wrong.
“He’s hung up on that rock star,” Benny says.
The guys love to give me shit about that.
Mabel’s head turns and she fixes her gaze on me. “Who? Nikki Sullivan?”
I don’t answer, but Benny says, “Yep.”
“I thought you just met her at the All Star game,” Mabel says. “Was there more to it than that?”
I’ve never told anyone details of that night. Weekend. Just that we met and she was fun and I like her music. “She’s not a rock star.”
“True,” Mabel agrees. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I look out the window.
I haven’t seen Nikki since then, despite our efforts.
We texted and talked on the phone after we got to our respective homes.
We tried to plan to meet up when I was in L.A.
with the team, but with games, practices, and team dinners, and with her schedule, we couldn’t find a time.
She was in New York for three days in April, but I was in fucking Montreal in the first round of the playoffs.
When the season was done, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t pissed and heartsick about being out of the playoffs, I figured it would be easier for us to finally get together, but then her life totally blew up.
One of her singles hit big after she released a new album and she was suddenly busier than ever.
Suddenly she was everywhere. Everywhere except with me, that is.
You couldn’t go on social media without seeing news stories, pictures, or gossip about her.
She was on TV shows, podcasts, and billboards.
Pictures of her were all around me. In the fall, she started a big tour—to all the places she’d always wanted to go.
Japan. Australia. Right now she’s somewhere in Europe.
And I’ve pretty much given up hope that we’ll ever see each other again.
Which really fucking sucks, because it felt like there was something genuinely incredible between us. Something I’ve never experienced before, or since.
But apparently not so incredible for her.
Contact with her dwindled when that album took off and I started feeling like I was the only one who was really trying.
I’ve been feeling sad. Kind of depressed.
Which is not like me at all. It’s taking more and more effort to keep my fun-loving game face on.
But it’s a new year and I’m going to snap out of it.
I’m genuinely happy for her and for the success she’s having.
She’s talented and hardworking and she deserves it.
Thinking about how ecstatic she must be now makes it easier to handle my disappointment while I sit at home and listen to sad music and eat too many sour Skittles.
“Apparently it does matter.” Mabel gentles her tone. “You’re pretty broken up about her.”
Am I going to tell Mabel I fell in love with Nikki that weekend? That I worship her and adore her and want to spend my life with her? That I’m fucking wrecked that that’s never going to happen?
No. I am not.
Because I know that sounds like I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
And maybe I have. Maybe I need to see a shrink about it. Maybe I need help to get over this.
Maybe I need a new male masturbation sleeve. More Power Glide gel. A blow-up doll.
Jesus. No.
I swipe a hand over my face.
“I’m fine,” I tell Mabel. “Don’t worry about me.”
She can be a little nosy into other people’s lives. I know it’s because she cares, but sometimes it’s annoying.
“Okay,” she says, the word dragging out of her and obviously completely insincere.
Finally, we’re home. I get out of the elevator first. “See you tomorrow, Benny.”
“Yeah. You driving?”
“Sure.”
We take turns driving to the practice facility.
“Okay, guys. Toodaloo, kangaroos.”
Alone in my condo, I kick off my shoes, head to the bedroom and strip off my clothes. I grab my phone and climb into bed.
My first impulse is to check Nikki’s Instagram. But I stop myself.
New year. New resolution. I’m over it.
So I plug in my phone to charge and make myself go to sleep.
* * *
I wish I had a game every day, because it would keep me from thinking about Nikki. I need to stay busy. I need some hobbies.
One day, determined to find something to take my mind off her, I go online and do some googling.
Unlike Mabel, I’m not a big reader. I have no interest in Ham radios.
Oh, hey—Parkour. That sounds interesting!
But… maybe not a great idea if I try to vault over a wall and end up breaking a leg or something.
Gardening, barbecuing… nah. Not gonna work here in the winter.
I already work out a lot. I could get some goldfish… I guess. Bowling could be fun—except I need people to bowl with. Maybe some of the guys would want to do that.
Where did Mabel find those courses she was taking when she first moved here?
The full moon circle, or whatever witchy event that was, the bartender lessons…
I do more searching and come up with cooking classes.
I pause. I could do that. Culinary boot camp!
I check dates and times, then blow out a frustrated breath.
The classes are held Monday or Friday afternoons.
How am I supposed to sign up for that with my schedule?
This coming Monday we’re in Seattle. Friday we’re here but it’s a game day. I need to nap, not cook.
I close out of that website and idly open a news page.
What’s happening in the world? Saudi Arabia is lifting an alcohol ban.
The panther population is declining. News about a roof collapsing at a concert.
I almost scroll on, but then I freeze. Like, I go absolutely, utterly stone cold, popsicle frozen, staring at the computer.
At least 14 people have been killed and many more wounded after a roof collapsed at a Nikki Sullivan concert at Rolf Schuster Halle in Berlin. The roof collapse occurred at about 10 p.m., trapping many concertgoers while others fled in terror.
Jesus Christ.
I can’t move. Can’t think. The only words running through my head are Nikki and is Nikki okay?
What if she’s one of the people killed? What the fuck happened? Sweet salty Jesus!
I read more.
Heavy snow over the last two days has crippled much of Europe, including Germany, France, and Switzerland. There’s still no official word on what caused the collapse, but the weight of snow on the roof of the concert hall appears to be the primary cause of the accident.
I shake my head and frantically start searching for other stories about the incident.
“What about Nikki?” I shout as I hunt for more information.
“She must be okay. They would say that straight up if she was one of the people killed. Wouldn’t they?
” One website is slow to load, and I slam my hand down on the keyboard.
I can’t fucking find anything that states outright that Nikki’s okay. I break out in a sweat. What the fuck do I do?
The feeling of helplessness that rises up inside is almost choking me. My breath comes in choppy pants. I don’t know what else to do.
I jump up from the desk and pace around my condo. I consider running up to Mabel and Benny’s place. It’s nearly seven. They’re probably home. But what am I going to say to them? They already give me a hard time about “stalking” Nikki.
Fuck it. This isn’t the time to be worried about what my sister or friends think of me. Nikki could be dead.
I take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor and bang on the door.
It opens a moment later with Mabel staring at me wide-eyed. “What the hell?”
“I need to come in. I need to talk to you.” I push past her and stride into the living room. Benny’s on the couch with a book in his hand, looking at me with a wrinkled forehead.
“A roof collapsed in Berlin,” I blurt out.
Mabel blinks at me. “Okay. I mean, that’s terrible. But why are you freaking out?”
“It was at Nikki’s concert.”
Mabel and Benny both jerk back, then say, “Ohhhh,” at the exact same time.
“Is she okay?” Mabel asks, taking a step closer.
“I don’t know.” I shove a hand into my hair and yank it. “I can’t find anything about her. A bunch of people were killed.”
“Oh my God.” Mabel pushes me toward a chair. “Sit. Take a breath.”
I sit, but there’s so much energy vibrating inside me I’m not sure I can stay still very long. “I just came across it online,” I tell them, scrubbing hands over my face. “But I can’t find anything about her.”
Benny picks up his phone and starts tapping on the screen. “She must be okay. They would lead with that if she wasn’t.”
“That’s what I thought. But I need to know.”
“Marek.” Mabel gazes at me with concern in her eyes. “You barely know her.”
I shake my head violently. “I do know her.”
Her eyebrows climb to her hairline. “Okay,” she says, slowly. Calmly. “Okay.” She glances at Benny and he catches it and shakes his head. “We’ll find out. There’ll be something in the news about it soon. This sounds like a big thing.”
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.” I grip the arms of the chair. “Jesus. I can’t believe this.”
Benny sets his phone on the coffee table. “We might have to wait till morning for more news. It’s about one in the morning there, I think.”
“Shit.” I pull in a long breath through my nose and stare at the ceiling. “Shit. I can’t wait that long. Maybe I should go there.”
“Whaaat!” Mabel’s eyes pop open wide. “Marek, that’s crazy.”
“Is it? I dunno. I could be there by morning in Berlin. I could find her.”
“You can’t do that, bro.” Benny’s also speaking in calm, measured tones. It pisses me off that they’re not upset about this.
“Why? We don’t have a game until Saturday.”
“But it’s in Chicago. We leave Saturday morning.”
I sigh. “It could be done.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Jesus.”
“It’ll be okay, Marek.” Mabel reaches over to squeeze my hand. “I’m sure she’s okay. You’re right, that totally would have been the headline if something happened to her.”
I nod, slowly, about ten times, as I accept that.
“You need a drink.” Benny stands and walks over to the kitchen. He pulls a bottle from a cupboard and then three glasses, and pours shots of tequila.
“Thanks.” I take a sip. “Bring the bottle over here.”
“Don’t forget we have a practice tomorrow.”
“Optional,” I remind the team captain who will 100 percent be there.
“True.”
This isn’t shooting tequila, it’s smooth sipping tequila, but I toss it back and help myself to more. “This might be the only way I sleep tonight.”
“Maybe you should tell us more about what happened in Las Vegas,” Mabel says.
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
A hurt look passes over her face.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that it was… personal.”
“I think we can imagine,” Benny says dryly, shooting Mabel a glance.
Can they? Maybe. They think they can. But they don’t know how magical it was. The connection between us.
Which I just gave up on ever experiencing again. It’s been nearly a year. Maybe it wasn’t that magical.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as I think my thoughts, drinking tequila.
I am totally overreacting. It’s true—I don’t really know her. I thought I did and I wanted more, but that’s clearly not going to happen. I need to calm the fuck down.