Chapter 29 Hayes
Hayes
I haven’t been able to sleep.
Do the thing where I can’t get comfortable. Flip the pillow. Roll from one side to the other. Stare at the ceiling fan and count how many reps I did in the gym.
I should be passed out—practice wore me down, watching film fried my brain, and Benny talked for twenty straight minutes during tuck-in about how cereal tastes better in a mixing bowl.
My body is tired.
My head is a stadium with the lights on.
Layla is everywhere. In the stupid way I check my phone for no reason and stare at her name. The last messages we sent before we gave up.
I am a grown man with a mortgage and a kid who trusts me.
I know how to make choices. Commitments.
I do not know how to do this: want someone who isn’t here and may never be again.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I have no idea how to navigate this.
Or if she wants me to annoy her with messages.
Plus, it’s not as if I have free time to pull out of my ass.
I don’t know.
Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow with a fucking clue.
In the meantime, I’ll just do what I do best: Put it out of my mind and move on.