Chapter 30
THIRTY
SERENA
MIA: Lunch at Bill’s today. I’m not taking no for an answer, Serena!
HARPER: Please come, S! Izzy and Flic will be there. Flic has updates on the buyer for Stormhawks. I think she hears more in the bar than most of management.
SERENA: Thanks, but I’m really not feeling great today. Another time!
MIA: Incorrect answer! We get it. Chase stomped all over your heart, but a girl’s gotta eat. And I haven’t seen you in weeks.
HARPER: A girl’s gotta leave her apartment for more than just work!
MIA: Cocktails on me!
SERENA: I’m not getting out of this, am I?
MIA: NO!
SERENA: See you at Bill’s.
Time heals all wounds. Whoever said that was a big fat liar.
Because it’s been six weeks since Chase and I went on our road trip, and I couldn’t even manage my Saturday morning run with Liv.
She’ll be back any minute, and I’m still sitting on the couch in my pjs, too tired to even make myself a coffee.
It still hurts as much today as it did then.
I stare at the laptop open on my lap, willing myself to concentrate.
Yesterday, Tanya sent over the schedule for the cheer team’s charity appearances after the season ends, and it’s my job to coordinate it so everyone takes their turn.
I should’ve done this yesterday in the office, but I couldn’t focus.
Things aren’t much better this morning. But if I leave it until Monday, I’ll be juggling this alongside next season’s uniform budget requests.
I sigh, resting my head against the cushion and closing my eyes.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t feel so terrible.
It’s like the pain of missing Chase has become a physical illness.
I can’t sleep, even though it’s all I want to do.
Can barely eat. I’m tired all the time, so tired I feel sick.
My hair has lost its bounce; my skin is pale and dull.
And the more time that passes, the worse I feel.
Outside, wet snow patters against the windows.
It’s going to be another icy cold weekend.
And based on the temperature drop and thickening cloud deck, we’re in for a lot more next week.
The only silver lining to the mess I’ve landed myself in by fake dating my best friend is the rise in my viewing figures for Weather with Serena.
Chase was right. They came for the gossip but stayed for the content.
I still get the odd comment about Chase, but it’s mostly weather questions.
Just like Chase predicted, the Chasing Love fans have moved on.
Now people want to know what they should wear for a weekend hike, or if it’s going to feel colder than the reported temperatures with the wind off the mountains.
I even had my first sponsorship call last week with a Denver tow truck company who want to sponsor a week of shows.
I wish I could feel more excited about it.
But I’m so tired. I reach for a blanket, suddenly cold, and glance around the apartment and the scattering of Christmas decorations Liv and I put up.
We talked about getting a tree, but it didn’t feel right.
It’s the first year since I moved out of my parents’ house that Chase hasn’t come tree shopping with me, and for the last six years, with Liv too.
It was our thing. A tradition like riding the Ferris wheel together at the end of the fair.
He even made a special trip back from Kansas when he was playing for the Trailblazers just to help me pick out the right tree.
We’d grab hot chocolates and fresh donuts from the food truck before Chase would give his assessments of each tree we passed.
That one is too sad.
That one looks like it could be trouble.
That one has anger issues.
The end result was agreeing to a tree that was way too big for our apartment, with Chase promising to help me carry it up the stairs, shouting “Pivot!” in his best Ross Geller voice, making Liv and I dissolve into helpless giggles every year.
I couldn’t bring myself to go tree shopping without him this year.
It’s impossible to believe I’ve not seen Chase properly since the road trip.
I’ve caught fleeting glimpses of him on the field at home games, my eyes betraying me every time, magnetized to the cut of his shoulders, desperately hoping he’ll turn, just once, and look my way.
That something will pass between us, and he’ll remember what we had.
Even if that’s just the nineteen years of friendship before we crossed the line.
But he never did, and it only made it harder.
The apartment door bangs open and Liv bursts into the apartment, red-faced and heaving for breath. “Oh my God, it’s freezing out there.” She blows on her fingers as she kicks off her sneakers. “I need coffee so bad. You want one?”
I shake my head.
Liv narrows her eyes as she pads into the kitchen. “Have you even moved since I left?”
“I’ve been working,” I reply. “Or trying to.”
“Staring at your phone waiting for Chase to magically text you back, more like.”
I cringe. She’s not wrong.
Liv disappears into the kitchen, returning with a mug of coffee a few minutes later and sinking onto the couch beside me.
I sigh, closing my laptop. “It’s been six weeks, Liv. And not a single word. I thought maybe once the dust settled, he’d reach out. Agree to have coffee. Something. But the silence—” My throat tightens. “It’s killing me. I know he ended things, but I didn’t think he was ending our friendship.”
She’s heard me talk about this over and over but her expression still softens. “I’m sure that’s not what’s happening. But you can’t keep putting your life on hold waiting for him. He asked for space, and I get that it hurts, but you’ve got to start doing things for you again.”
“It’s not just me I’m thinking about though.
” I twist my hands together. “I know he’s in a bad place.
Finding out Leanna loved him from afar but never reached out has messed with his head.
He spent his whole life telling himself she didn’t care.
Now he doesn’t know what to believe. He feels like he didn’t try hard enough to find her. That’s a lot of guilt to carry.”
Liv sighs. “Yeah, which is why he wants space right now. And you know he’s OK, right? You’ve been speaking to Mama?”
“Yes.” I think of what Mama said on our call last week. How Chase has barely come up for air. Living for the game, shutting everything else out. He must be feeling the pressure to win on top of everything else.
The Stormhawks have just three games left in the season.
They’re currently third in the AFC West with the Trailblazers and the Las Vegas Desertraptors ahead of them.
They need to keep winning to stand a chance of reaching the playoffs, either by winning the AFC West or as a runner-up with the best win record and securing one of three wild cards given.
Both routes feel impossible right now, considering the low morale hanging over the whole team.
Last week, Don Hubert gathered us all—management, coaches, the team, and the cheer squad.
Even the grounds staff. Calling us all together and confirming the rumors.
The Stormhawks are in financial difficulty and have sold a majority share to an outside buyer.
The speech was designed to be reassuring.
A rally call to show the new buyer the magic they’ve bought into.
Except it had the opposite effect. Everyone is scared for their jobs.
Uncertainty seems to hang in the air every time I set foot in the stadium.
“I ache to be there for him, Liv,” I murmur. “Even when he doesn’t want me.”
She sets her mug down, eyes locked on mine. “I know you do. But you can’t lose yourself while he’s figuring himself out. Why don’t you come shopping with me and Jensen today? Help me decide what to put on the wedding registry? Jensen is no use. He just tells me to get whatever I want.”
“What a bastard,” I mutter, making Liv laugh, and even I crack a smile.
“A change of scene will do you good,” she sing-songs.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’d only be a third wheel. Besides, Mia’s invited me for lunch with Harper, Flic, and Izzy.”
“That sounds like fun,” Liv replies. “As long as you’re not going just to find out how Chase is doing.”
“I’m not,” I reply, even though it feels like a lie. I’m desperate to hear from Harper and Izzy. I know Chase will be putting on a brave face for Mama, but if anyone knows how he really is, it’s Jake and Dylan.
“Right then,” Liv says in her best no-nonsense voice, nudging my leg with her foot. “Get up. Get in the shower and get out of this apartment before I have to stage an intervention. I swear you’re going to fuse with this couch if you spend any more time wallowing on it.”
“Watch it, or I’ll be bringing this couch to your wedding as my plus one.
” I pull myself up, because despite the jokes, Liv is right.
Getting out today is the answer. I’ve been spending too much time by myself in this apartment.
I glance around, aware of the spaces on the bookshelves and the boxes in the corner.
Liv has been packing up her things this week, moving a few boxes at a time, as if doing it slowly, I might not notice. It isn’t going to make saying goodbye any easier when she leaves for the last time.
It’s another reminder I haven’t looked for a new roommate yet.
The lease is up in a few weeks, and the landlord wants to know if I’m planning to renew.
The truth is, I don’t know what I want. I’m twenty-eight.
Still single. Still a million miles from the dreams of a future I can’t begin to face right now.
“I’ve seen couches move faster than you, S,” Liv shouts after me, and I manage a laugh and head for the bathroom. I need to get a grip.