31. Hadley
Hadley
I blow into my cupped hands and then rub them together as I listen to Mila recount the book she’s been reading.
“You love the broody heroes,” Evelyn says.
“Like attracts like,” Mila says.
Evelyn giggles, wrapping a blanket tighter around her shoulders. “God, it’s cold tonight.”
“Freezing,” I agree. “But I’m kind of okay with it. We were going to set up Christmas decorations last week, but we all got busy with school, so we’re going to do it next weekend. This cold weather kind of makes it feel more festive.”
“We’re setting ours up tomorrow, and I’m so excited.” Evelyn tugs her stocking cap lower to cover more of her ears. “We only ever set up a tree when I was growing up, and Mila’s gone absolutely nuts. I swear, our apartment’s going to look like the North Pole. It’s going to be amazing.”
Mila beams. “We should plan some fun things for Christmas. Maybe something like the brunch you hosted, but do it with cookies or movies or something festive.”
“I can’t imagine Grey attending a cookie exchange,” Evelyn says.
Mila scoffs. “Who said I was inviting him?”
I chuckle.
“Maybe we do a few girls-only events?” Evelyn says. “And others we can invite the guys to.”
It’s becoming harder for me to agree to do anything that takes away time from when I’ll see Nolan, our time is already so limited. I’m still trying to unpack this fact because it’s not something I can recall caring about in previous relationships.
“We could do a cookie exchange and our first book club meetup,” Mila suggests.
“Oh, that would be so fun. Do you think everyone will be able to read a book and be ready to talk about it?” Evelyn asks.
“You read a new book every other day,” Mila says.
Evelyn smirks. “But I’m not normal.”
Mila wraps her arm around Evelyn’s shoulder. “You’re the only kind of normal I want. Besides, if we don’t finish, you can just give us a summary without spoilers and tell us whether we should read it or not.”
Evelyn chuckles. “Deal.”
The crowd stands around us, cheering so loud that it ends our conversation. It’s the telling sign that Camden has taken the field. We stand up to watch.
“Wait. Why isn’t Hudson going to the coin toss?” Mila asks.
I pull my attention from trying to find Nolan to see someone else going to midfield to meet the refs and opposing team captain.
“Is he sick? Did he get hurt?” Mila continues.
Evelyn’s silent, searching the field. “He’s there.” She points toward a crowd of players. “What in the hell’s going on?”
As the players retreat to their sides, Hudson’s not the only one missing as Camden’s offense takes the field. “Nolan’s not starting, either,” I say.
“Or Palmer,” Mila adds.
“This has to be about last week’s game,” Evelyn says.
“This is bullshit,” I say. “Absolute bullshit.” I peer around, waiting for others to feel the same level of outrage, but everyone stares at the field, blissfully unaware of the power trip happening right now.
I search the bench for Nolan and find him sandwiched between Hudson and Palmer on the bench. I can’t see his expression to determine what he’s feeling, but I know it’s a similar brand of outrage and betrayal that’s thrumming through my veins.
“Hudson’s dad is calling me,” Evelyn says, looking at her phone like it’s a live grenade.
“Hey, Roger,” she answers. She nods. “I don’t know.
He felt fine this morning. I think it has to be a coaching decision because Nolan and Palmer aren’t starting either.
” She nods again. “I don’t know. I doubt it.
If one of them was refusing to play, I don’t think Grey or Corey would be willing to still play.
” She nods again. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything.
” She hangs up. “I hope Peters knows the size of the hornet’s nest he just poked.
” Evelyn shakes her head as she zips her phone into a pocket.
“Because Roger is ready to flip tables.”
I’ve never felt quite so helpless, knowing how much is riding on this single game.
Katie texts me halfway through the first half to find out what’s going on and if Nolan’s all right. My reply is similar to Evelyn’s was to Hudson’s dad, that we aren’t sure but suspect it was their coach’s decision.
It’s difficult to watch not only because I’m distracted and still angry that Nolan’s not playing but because Camden’s losing for the first time by a twenty-point margin that has the crowd muted.
“I don’t know if I want them to lose or not,” Mila says. “On one hand, I want them to lose because ass face Peters deserves it, but on the other hand, they’d lose their place in the tournament.”
Evelyn winces.
Shame hovers over me, selfishly wanting the loss not only because of Peters but because it might give me another year with Nolan. I feel terrible for even thinking it, knowing I should want what’s best for him—and I do. I want him to achieve every dream and wish—I just wish they all included me.
“He has to let them play the second half,” Mila says as halftime ends. “He can’t bench three of his starting players, not when they’re down by thirty points.”
“Can you imagine what kind of mindset they’re going to be in if he lets them play?” Evelyn asks. “He’s going to force them into an impossible task and they’re all going to blame themselves for the loss.”
But that fear doesn’t come to fruition as they remain on the bench for the entire second half. Camden loses fifty-eight to twenty-four.
I feel numb as I stand and follow Evelyn and Mila to the parking lot.
“Should we ask them to go out to a bar? Or maybe to our apartment? What do y’all think is going to help ease tonight’s loss?” Mila asks.
I shake my head. I don’t have an answer. “I’m going to head home. I’ll text you when I hear from Nolan and let you know if he’s up for doing anything.”
Evelyn nods as she wraps her arms around me. “We’ll talk to you soon.”
I miss Katie and Hannah as I cross the lot to find my car. Nolan’s loss feels like my own as I get into the driver’s seat, determined to find a way to heal what I’m sure is going to be a large fracture in his trust and mood.
I don’t even bother changing when I get home, going to the kitchen where I make a tray of brownies and the same ham and cheese sliders I’d made for our brunch that Nolan loved. I know food isn’t the answer, but I’m desperate to offer any comfort possible.
I turn on the TV while the brownies bake, watching the interviews which don’t include Nolan tonight. Still, I watch and wait, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
When the channel turns to the news, I flip off the TV and decide to make chocolate chip cookies because even as someone who isn’t a huge fan of sweets, I know chocolate chip cookies make everything a little better.
I check my phone before taking out the brownies and proceed to check it with every sheet of cookies I slide into the oven.
My phone finally vibrates just after eleven.
Nolan: I’m going out with some guys on the team. I’ll probably be home late.
Me: I’m really sorry about tonight’s game.
Me: Are you all right?
When the final batch of cookies comes out of the oven, it’s past midnight and I haven’t heard back from Nolan.
I curl up on the couch with a throw so I can hear him when he gets home, and flip on a movie.
I watch two movies before I text Nolan.
Me: Hey. Is everything okay?
An hour later, I message him again.
Me: Are you okay? I’m getting worried.
Thirty minutes later, I’m contemplating calling the police. Instead, I call my sister.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Her exhaustion has me wincing with regret. It’s one in the morning in Vegas, four here.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking. It’s late. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. What’s wrong.”
Her voice is so soft, so comforting that tears form in my eyes. “I can’t find Nolan.”
“Are you out together?”
“No. I’m at home, but he went out. They lost their game tonight. The coach benched him for some bullshit reason, and they lost.”
“He’s probably at a bar or at a buddy’s house blowing off steam,” she says. “Have you checked social media?”
“Nolan hates social media.”
“Yeah, but the rest of the world doesn’t. Someone’s probably tagged in a picture. We’ll each pick a platform. I bet we can find him in fifteen minutes.”
“How are you going to help? You’re not friends with anyone I go to college with.”
“I could be a cyber stalker. There’s this girl I follow who does casual doxxing and she can find anyone. I’ve learned so much. Christian is legit afraid of me now.”
“I’d rather my boyfriend reply to my texts, so I’m not forced to stalk him online.”
“He’s going to owe you some groveling for this one,” Katie says absently. In the background, I hear her fingers drumming against a keyboard.
I pull up my laptop, and scroll through my feed for several minutes, staring at pictures of food, and people’s attire for last night’s game.
“Who would he be with? Who are his closest friends?”
“Hudson, maybe? Try Hudson McKin—wait.” Flashbacks of Lenny holding an axe have me looking at the window. “Try Lenny Schmidt.” I enter his name on my side as well. Pictures of Lenny and Nolan drinking.
Posing with people I don’t know.
Taking shots.
More posing, this one with a crowd of girls.
More drinking.
Nolan dancing in a crowd. It doesn’t appear that he’s dancing with anyone specific but a dozen girls are watching him, near him.
My hackles are up, and so are my emotions.
“I found him,” I say.
“Is he home?” Lanie asks.
“No. I mean I found pictures of him. At least I know he’s not lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“Yeah, I found the pictures, too.”
“How does this work?” I ask, brushing away a tear. “I mean, I get it, he’s mad, he’s disappointed … but instead of messaging me or asking me to be there with him, he’s out with a bunch of strangers getting drunk.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s already drunk in most of these,” Lanie says.
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”