Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
ALEX
Where is she? I look up at my mom and point to the empty seats next to her.
Mom shrugs and shakes her head. Even though things have been so weird with Stella this week, I didn’t think she’d blow off my game.
The morning after we made love, she acted so nervous, so coy.
I didn’t want to scare her by attacking her first thing in the morning, even though that’s all I wanted to do.
She looked and acted so tentative. Shit, she couldn't get dressed and out of there fast enough, and since I’ve never deflowered a girl before, I wasn’t sure what to expect or what to do afterward.
I’ve been with plenty of girls, but they all knew what they were doing.
This was all new for Stella, and I didn’t want to frighten her away.
I decided to give her space. She needed time to process everything.
I did tell her I loved her, after all. Maybe that freaked her out. She didn’t say it back.
Shit. Maybe she’s not ready for all of this with me.
But where is she? Stella’s not the kind of person to bail on me, is she?
She said she was coming to the game in her text.
But while she didn’t promise; it still makes me angry.
Angry? No, not angry. I feel sad, depressed, bitter, and worried all rolled into one.
What if something happened to her and she couldn’t get a hold of me?
Surely she would have called or messaged me.
The thought eases my mind a little. The second I get into the locker room at half time, I’ll check my phone.
Halftime and no message from Stella. What the hell is going on?
Even though we aren’t supposed to be on the phones during our halftime meetings, especially this halftime, one where we’re down twenty-four to three, I can’t help staring at my phone.
Needless to say, this midgame pep talk is more like a bitch-out session.
I really need to listen to the coach. I’m playing for shit—like a high school freshman.
Coach is yelling, and I think he’s yelling at me, but I can’t focus on that right now.
I need to be sure she’s okay. All I need is to know that she’s okay.
Right before we head back out onto the field, I grab my phone and quickly text her.
“Stella, where are you? Are you all right?” Not only that, I call her number and hope to hear her voice, but I get her machine.
So, I leave the message. “Stella, it’s Alex.
Where are you? You’re not at my game. You’re worrying me.
” Because I’m the last one out of the locker room, I hang up and spring back out to play the worst fucking game of my career.