Chapter 23 Carrie #2
Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, dude. I’m not about to expose him in front of his whole family, but if he thinks I’m just going to play along and act the perfect girlfriend, he’s got the wrong girl.
“Yeah, it was one hell of a thunderbolt, all right. It happened yesterday.”
My nails are still digging into his leg. He covers my hand with his and starts slapping it.
“It sure does feel like it was only yesterday, doesn’t it?”
“It’s crazy how time flies.” I nod energetically. “I hope things never change.”
He drops his arm from around my neck and slings it over the back of my chair, leaning into me, his thigh pressing into mine.
“Are you a senior, too?” his dad asks me.
“I’m a junior.”
“And you’re going to be okay with our little champion moving out of town this summer?” Amelia chimes in.
“Why would that be a problem?”
I know Don will be done at SHU in just a few months, but we’ve never talked about the future. In my head, our relationship was never made to last, anyway.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You’re okay with long distance?”
“We’ve got time to talk things through.” Don sounds pissed. “I haven’t been signed anywhere yet—there’s no point thinking too far ahead.”
“That’s all Mom can talk about,” his sister says dryly.
Eric shakes his head. “Oh, Ellen! You know it’s bad luck to preempt that kind of thing!”
“Hey, don’t involve me in your mumbo jumbo stuff,” Ellen warns. “I’m hoping the Knicks pick him up!”
His dad shrugs. “I’m holding out for the Heat.”
“My baby is not going to Miami!” His mom gasps.
They argue back and forth good-naturedly, and my mind is blown.
At home, this would’ve escalated to nuclear levels.
This whole situation would normally plunge me back into my spiral of replaying my parents’ fights.
I keep my eyes on my plate. Hearing Donovan’s plans for leaving town shouldn’t upset me—I always knew he was aiming for the NBA.
It’s just I never took the time to think it through.
I mean, why would I? And why is that exactly what I’m doing now?
“Carrie?” Ellen is staring at me.
“Sorry, I…”
“I was just saying, you should spend Thanksgiving with me and Amelia. Ever been to Washington, DC, before?”
I shake my head.
“Amelia could show you around campus.”
“Mom,” Don sighs. “Even if I did go play for the Wizards—you think Carrie would get a transfer just to follow me?”
“That’s not what I was trying to say!”
“Sure it wasn’t,” he scoffs. “And anyway, you know the Campus Drivers go hard for Thanksgiving—if Carrie’s spending it anywhere, it’ll be at my place.”
“I’ll be in Cincy,” I blurt. “But it’s sweet of you to offer.”
His mom looks at me knowingly. “I’ll just have to find another way of getting you two to Washington, then.”
“And I’m sure you will.” Don shoots me a look. “Anyway, let’s get back on track, here. What did you guys think of my lasagna?”
“Delicious, son.”
Donovan beams.
“Your lasagna?” I snort. “I have this vague memory of being there in the kitchen…”
“Hey, come on, babe! It’s my birthday—cut me some slack!”
“What did we say about you ‘babe’ing me?”
“She’s usually more relaxed,” Donovan tells the others. Three pairs of eyes are riveted on us. “She’s just a little on edge about meeting you guys.”
Don’s dad goes on an affectionate mini rant about his ex-wife, and I’m hooked. I can’t believe how these guys interact. Underneath that hardline exterior, the Cardinals’ coach has a great sense of humor, and I make a point of mentioning it.
“You’re so much funnier than your son. That’s comforting,” I add. “It makes me feel like it’s in his blood—maybe once he’s done with puberty, he’ll turn out like you.”
Everyone bursts out laughing. I even manage to coax a wan smile out of Amelia. Score!
Never mind, I spoke too soon. She scrapes back her chair and starts clearing the table, like she can’t wait for us to leave. That’s not going to happen, though—there’s no way we’re heading off until she and Don have their talk.
Ellen and Eric drift across the room, and I seize my chance to pounce on Don. Not literally.
“Go find her in the kitchen,” I whisper, elbowing him in the side.
“No.”
“Yes!” I hiss. “It’s now or never—you’ve got this.”
He turns to me. “It’s my birthday. You know—the best day of the year? I’ll do it next time we—”
“I didn’t come here to watch you cook lasagna and play the piano.” I frown. “Get your sorry ass in there and talk to her.”
“She’s gonna tell me to leave her the hell alone.”
“But at least you can plant the seeds.”
He sits there, motionless, and I’m disappointed.
He scowls at me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Carrie. I can hear you muttering from here.”
“If you’re going to bail, at least give me a valid reason.”
He sighs. “If I make up with her now, I won’t need your coaching anymore—and I know how bad that’d hurt you. I don’t want to break your heart like that. I couldn’t handle the guilt. I’m doing this for you, Carrie.”
Oh my God… I know he’s only kidding around, but my heart drops all the same. We did start hanging out because of his sister, yeah. Was that really all it was ever about, though? It’s better this way.
“I had high hopes for you, you know. But that’s okay, Wolinski. You just gave me a good reason to ditch your ass right here.” I shrug. “It’s a shame, since your parents seem to like me and all, but—”
“Babe, wait!” He throws up his hands. “Don’t leave! I thought we had something special—”
“Honeymoon period over already?”
We jump in our seats. Amelia grabs the lasagna dishes and stomps back into the kitchen, and I’m searching for an in, but nothing comes.
“I’ll go help her!”
I jump up, reaching for something—anything—to take along with me.
“Oh, hell no.” He shakes his head slowly. “I know exactly what you’re planning.”
I pout. “What! I was raised right, that’s all!”
“Carrie…”
“Son, come see this!” his dad calls over from the couch.
Just as Don turns to glance over at the TV, I dart into the kitchen, brushing past Ellen on her way out, and finally I’m alone with Amelia.
“Having fun?” I ask.
God. I sound like the biggest fake on the planet.
“Oh, I’m having the best time!” Amelia’s voice is dripping with sarcasm—I get the feeling we’re going to get along just fine.
“So, you started college, huh? How’s it working out for you?”
“Fine.”
Urgh! I gaze at her steadily, one eyebrow raised. She catches my eye.
“Look, I’m this close to breaking point,” she warns. “You seem like a nice girl and all, but I’m seriously not in the mood to ‘bond’ with my brother’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds, “he’s not exactly a long-term kinda guy. It’s better we keep some distance.”
Okay, girl. Gloves off.
I take a deep breath in.
“I’m going to level with you, Amelia. I know what that asshole Cooper did to you, and I get it—I really do. But I still don’t think what you’re doing is okay.”
Her eyes widen. I glance at her hands. She just nearly dropped that dish. Maybe I went a little heavy on her, but hey—she started it.
“What the… He actually told you about that?”
“Yup. He might not be a long-term kinda guy, but our Donny is definitely a talker.”
I’d been planning on bringing this whole thing up more organically, but it is what it is.
“Classic Don,” she snaps.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. Okay—so he’s stubborn, annoying as hell, and has a super punchable face. But he has values.”
She laughs. “You’ve known him, what—all of a week? A month, maybe? I’ve known him since the day I was born, and I’m telling it to you straight, honey. Don’t talk to me like you know better than me. He’s a smooth talker,” she adds. “You’re just another girl who drank the Kool-Aid.”
“First of all, smooth-talking doesn’t work on me. And second—”
“I’m done here.” She holds up a hand. “Don’t waste your breath, Cassie.”
She’s definitely his sister.
“You don’t know the guy he is now,” I counter. “You’re so obsessed with what he was, you can’t see how he’s changed.”
“I’d have to actually give a shit about his life to notice that, wouldn’t I?” She is so stubborn like Donovan right now, it’s insane. “I stopped caring when I realized our relationship was a one-way street.”
“Bullshit! You needed him and he didn’t step up—I get that,” I continue. “But you didn’t speak up, you didn’t tell him you needed him to be there.”
“You think it was easy for me?”
“Of course not!”
Amelia’s eyes are flashing. “You have no idea what I went through. It was pure hell. He was everywhere, all the time. There was nowhere I felt safe—ever.”
Shit. Is she crying? Why did I think getting between them would be a good call?
I’m the last person to be giving advice—especially when you consider the complete shit show that is my relationship with my mom.
But there’s a big part of me that can’t help but jump to Donovan’s defense.
He was lame, and I’m not saying he’s perfect—but he reacted the only way he knew how.
He was immature, and it’s hardly the crime of the century.
“Donovan is my big brother,” she insists. “He should’ve stood up for me.”
“And if you’d have told him, he would’ve done just that.”
“How the hell would you know?”
“I know he’s a good guy and he loves you. And I think deep down you know that, too,” I say softly.