Chapter 23 Carrie
There’s a window to my left, and I’m wondering how many steps it would take to reach it. Too many. There’s a couch in the way, and when you factor in how hard my legs are shaking, I don’t think I’d make it before someone intercepts me. Urgh.
“Mom, Dad—meet Carrie Wolinski.”
That weight on my shoulders… It’s the sense of dread that washes over me when I think of the evening that lies ahead.
Oh—and it’s Donovan’s dumbass arm. I just nearly took him out with a maraca, so it feels a little early to try breaking his elbow, too.
Plus, his parents would be witnesses. The pair of them are standing there staring at us like they just caught us doing doggy on the piano.
Fuck. For a minute there, I’d been in the flow, absorbed in the moment, totally unaware of where I was and who I was with.
Snap back to reality—I’m in the Wolinski family home. With Don.
Why did I agree to this, again?
“If you ever so much as cared about me—please kill me, Wolinski. Kill me now,” I say under my breath.
I can feel his side shaking with laughter. Great!
“Carrie—meet Mom and Dad.”
“Are you done embarrassing her?” his mother scolds him, stepping closer. She turns to me and smiles beamingly. “I’m Ellen. It’s a pleasure, honey.”
I hold out a stiff hand, but she’s the touchy-feely kind. Shoving Don out the way, she pulls me in for a bear hug, and as if by magic, my panic loosens.
“That’s sweet he played you his favorite song. Good luck making it to the hundredth time without breaking any of his fingers, though.” She winks at me.
Don groans from the corner. “Love you, too, Mom…”
“Your favorite song?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought your mom forced you to learn it?”
“Okay, so maybe I hyped it up a little…”
“Did you say Carrie Wolinski?” the coach cuts in.
I recognize him immediately. I’ve seen him around campus—usually from a distance, though. Now that he’s standing right in front of me, I’m struck by how much they look alike.
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Call me Eric.”
I hold my hand out again, and he takes it in his, before lifting it to his face.
He’s not… he’s not actually going to kiss it, right?
He doesn’t. Instead, he stands there staring at it for a while. Like way too long of a while. I’m wondering at what point it would be okay for me to snatch it back, when he looks up at me.
“He’s looking for a wedding ring,” Donovan explains. “I didn’t have time to pick one up, Dad. It was Vegas—and we were wasted.” He shrugs. “But I promised her a huge rock once I get signed.”
My eyes dart from Don to his parents, and back again. I’m going to kill this guy. As slowly as possible. A sharp blow to the back of the head, just as soon as I get my hand back.
“My last name is just Wolinski,” I explain. “Carrie Wolinski. Guess the name must be pretty common.”
Ellen nods. “What a funny coincidence, though.”
“It’s fate.” Don gives my bun a squeeze.
“Stop it!” I force out a polite laugh, while shooing his hand away.
His mom’s eyes are shining. “Oh my gosh, she’s adorable!”
“Wait until you see her—”
“Hey, guys. Is it me, or do you guys smell burning?”
The Cardinals’ coach is blocking my view, but I know who just walked through the door. It’s written all over Donovan’s face.
I don’t think he realizes, but he just took a step closer to me, and his breathing is faster now, heavy.
His game face is solid, though—if I didn’t know exactly what’s at stake here, I might not even notice anything’s wrong.
Shit just got real. His fingers brush my wrist, and without thinking, I caress his palm with my thumb.
He lowers his eyes and slips his hand in mine.
I feel tiny by comparison, and it’s such a small, simple thing—but he’s never held my hand before.
Just like that, all my worries evaporate. Suddenly, I’m right where I’m supposed to be—my hand folded into the warmth of Don’s palm. It all feels so incredibly right, and he wasn’t lying—he needs me here, no question.
I drag my eyes away from him and take a deep breath in.
Ellen makes for the kitchen. “Amelia, go say hi to Carrie!”
I had pieced together a picture of Don’s sister based on everything he told me.
I was imagining some delicate little flower, but the girl standing in front of me is anything but.
She’s got the same brown eyes as Don, I notice, as I catch her lingering over our hands, her gaze trailing up to meet mine.
I attempt a smile. And get nothing back. Nice to meet you, too…
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
And that’s it.
She doesn’t so much as look Don’s way, and when she turns on her heel and sashays over to the staircase, her handbag swinging as she goes, pure, unbridled rage bubbles up inside me, for some reason.
I’m not trying to minimize everything that happened to her all those years ago—but it’s not like her brother is directly to blame, is it?
Now I get why Donovan asked me to come and support him tonight. I had no idea things were this bad.
Eric ducks out the room, and I tug my hand free, turning to face Don, standing on the tips of my toes to rub his shoulders.
“Just breathe, okay? Let’s go set the table.” I smile uneasily. “Did you plan to have balloons?”
“Who are you, and what did you do with the grinch I brought here?”
“Let’s just say I finally get it.”
“Told you.” He sighs. “She really fucking hates me.”
“It’ll be okay. Just wait till she sees how hard you’re trying to change.” I elbow him. “I couldn’t stand you at first—and look at us now!”
“Talk about a backhanded compliment!”
“You’re the big brother here, right? So, stop freaking out. Go show her you’re not backing down,” I insist. “I mean, you’re supposed to be the Cardinals captain—but you’re acting like a scared little kid. You know better.”
I keep the tone light. I need him to know I’m just trying to get him psyched.
“Who’s a big boy, then?” I croon, pinching his cheek.
“You’ve lost it,” he jokes, his eyes crinkling. Good.
He clasps my wrist between his hands but doesn’t push me away. And I don’t step back.
When he looks that sheepish, I want to comfort him—wrap my arms around him, feel his arms around me, let him undress me and—
Stop it!
“So—how about those plates?”
I wrestle free, keeping my eyes lowered, doing my best to be unreadable.
There’s no way I’m letting him see just how much he’s getting to me, especially since he told me about this new girl he’s got his eye on.
Is this the one they were talking about the other night at the Java?
The new potential Campus Driver? Okay, so picturing him with some other girl is messing with me a little, but I still want him to go ahead and get himself a girlfriend—right?
Wrong. And that’s a problem.
Before I know it, the table is set and the meal is good to go. The food isn’t burnt, after all. It was close, though.
Donovan pulls out my chair, and I thank him while eyeing him suspiciously in return. He’s doing everything I taught him to do, but I know the score—he’s just getting his practice in, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything, and I need to remember that.
Ellen stacks our plates high, teasing her ex-husband as she goes. It’s crazy how close they are despite being divorced, and it makes me think how chill my life would’ve been, if I’d only had parents like Donovan’s.
Amelia’s sitting there looking totally pissed off, but the vibe is relaxed. It turns out this isn’t so bad after all.
“So, tell me, Carrie,” the coach says, taking a swig of his beer. “Were you at the game on Wednesday?”
I freeze mid-forkful.
“Maybe?” I try. “Wednesday, let me think…”
Fuck! Of course he watched. He must’ve heard me lose my shit with Berenson!
I flash him my sweetest smile. Yup. He totally heard.
“Okay, you got me—I’m no Girl Scout of the year. I can explain, though. It was my first time, so—”
“Ellen’s been blacklisted from Donovan’s games,” the coach cuts in.
“Seriously?”
He laughs. “You should’ve seen her. She would cuss out the opponents, their parents, their future kids—”
“I guess I did go a little tiger mom.” She smiles.
“By the way, what did the hospital say, son?” his dad cuts in.
I turn to Don. “You went to the hospital? When?”
“Yesterday. They wanted me to do an X-ray.”
“Because of your shoulder?”
Don puts down his knife and fork and takes a deep breath in.
“No. It’s my brain. I didn’t want to tell you, but seems like I don’t have a choice—”
“What are you talking about?”
Worry nudges at me.
“The doctors were hoping it’d give them some insight into what makes someone perfect. They said they’d never seen a brain like mine. What they found was so game-changing,” he continues, “they couldn’t actually capture it on-screen.”
This guy… This fucking guy…
I prod him in the arm with my fork. “You are such an ass!”
“You’re a terrible person, Donovan.” His mom shakes her head sadly.
He bursts out laughing, throwing his arm around my neck.
“Relax, guys. I got the shoulder checked out—Berenson didn’t break anything. I’m unbreakable.”
He swoops in to try to kiss my temple, and I wave my fork at him, warding him off.
“So,” Amelia interjects, looking back and forth between us. “How long has this been a thing?”
Wow. She talks.
“What do you mean?” I try to shrug Donovan off me.
“How long have you been together?” She says the words slowly, like I’m stupid.
And maybe I am, because I still don’t get what she’s trying to say. In my defense, she hasn’t spoken to us since we got here. You could say I’m a little thrown off.
I glance at Don, narrowing my eyes. He puffs his cheeks out and tightens his arm around my neck. I drop my knife on my plate, slip my hand down to his thigh, and pinch him as hard as I can. Did the asshole tell them I’m his girlfriend?
“It’s early days, but super intense.” He looks at me affectionately.
Say what?
Why would he lie to them? What’s the point?
“Don…”
“It was like a thunderbolt. A light bulb moment.”