29. nick
NICK
YOU DON’T ACTUALLY LIKE NEON
I was sore as fuck.
From her texts, I knew Tallulah spent her day sketching out an outline of her profile for Andrew’s approval.
I spent the first half of my day slumped in the bathtub, submerged in the hottest water I could stand.
Skin peeling hot. Gordo came upstairs to yell at me.
Apparently, it wasn’t a good idea to go completely immobile after fucking over your body like that.
He stood on the other side of the bathroom door. “Nick, this is serious. You promise to stretch?”
“Promise,” I mumbled. I finally inched out of the bath and sat at the edge, head in my hands.
The headache was the worst part. The unending knocking at my skull, like a thousand people were trying to storm in.
Muttering under my breath, I stretched, took some painkillers, and dozed in and out until four o’clock.
That was Tallulah’s official end to her weekday when she could technically leave her workstation. Thank fuck.
I still felt like crap, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the morning. Maybe it was the naps with Rat that helped, could’ve been the painkillers, I suspected it was the pretty journalism major I couldn’t wait to see and move in.
At the archway into their cubicles, I rolled back my shoulders, cracking my knuckles. It was time to get to work.
Tallulah’s eyes widened when she spotted me. She hurried to collect her things. “Um, so, I’ve been thinking a lot about this…I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to move in with you,” she whispered, her bag swinging over her shoulder.
I easily took it from her, pulling it over my shoulder instead. My shoulder ached. I could feel every muscle, every tendon.
“Yeah, I know, you texted me.” I flashed her my phone. “Three hours ago, you said it wasn’t a good idea. Twenty minutes after that, you said, fuck it, you want to move in. Fifteen minutes after that, you said never mind. Forty-five minutes after that you said—”
Tallulah took me by the hand, taking me up the stairs. “Nick, I’ve never lived with somebody before.”
If Tallulah legitimately didn’t want to move in with me, that was one thing, but it was more complicated than that. Kind of always was with her. I could see her buried excitement every time she allowed herself to think about actually leaving this shithole. The hope, the spark in her eyes.
If I didn’t see that, I would’ve dropped it.
I followed her inside her dorm, whistling at the sight. Tallulah’s side was impeccably neat, but the dorm was sad. Tiny and sad. I’d checked out the rooms for the actual Olympians and they weren’t nearly this small. Tomasini must’ve stored the interns in these broom closets as some sick joke.
I nodded towards Winona’s laundry on the floor. “What do you mean you’ve never lived with somebody before? What about her?”
“That’s different,” Tallulah whispered, as if Winona was lurking in the walls. “She ignores me.”
“Yeah. That sucks. Let’s move you out.”
Tallulah clapped her hands, like she’d figured out the answer to a homework problem. “What if we have a fight?”
“Oh my god.” My mouth fell open in mock-horror. “What if you beat me up?”
“Nick. A real fight.”
“Like you hit me with a car?”
“No!” she said, exasperated. “An emotional fight. Like, a mean one.”
“Why would we fight?”
“I don’t know. What if I do something that you don’t like?”
I shrugged. “Sit on my face. I’m sure I’ll get over it.”
Tallulah took quick steps to her bed, gesturing underneath it. “I—I can’t move in with you because I have too many books!”
I took a look myself, carefully sliding to the floor. There was a substantial collection. “I’ll buy you a bookshelf.”
“You don’t want a bookshelf—oh my god. This is crazy,” she whispered, pacing across the floor. “I’m crazy. Moving in with you, what am I thinking?!”
“You barely get any sleep here,” I pointed out.
Tallulah flushed. “Yes, but—”
“You want to scream at Andrew. Daily.”
“Yes, but—”
“They threw your lunch in the garbage,” I said, my voice as gentle as I could make it. “You cried so hard over that.”
“Whoever’s the culprit throws everyone’s lunch away! I wasn’t targeted, I was just a casualty!” she said, a little too high-pitched. “I don’t even put my lunch in the work room’s fridge anymore! So it’s—erm—better!”
“Tallulah. That’s not better.”
“Nick?” she pleaded. “I don’t want to inconvenience anyone—I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
There it was. The real reason Tallulah didn’t want to move in with me.
With a sigh, I pushed myself to stand up. “Anxiety fucking sucks.”
Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry—”
“No, anxiety sucks, because it makes you think that you’re to blame.
With everything. With anything. That you’re inconveniencing people.
That you can’t be happy and take that happiness.
Your anxiety convinces you that you don’t deserve it.
But this is the truth—” I cut the distance between us, taking her chin between my fingers, making sure she understood every word. “Being with you is a goddamn gift.”
Her face warmed. “Oh.”
“And because they don’t recognize that—they can go fuck themselves.”
I meant every word, and finally, finally, recognition flickered behind her eyes. Everything about her softened. She gazed up at me, lips parted, and slowly nodded. “I—I do hate it here.”
“I know you do,” I murmured. “So let’s go.”
Tallulah didn’t have much. There were stacks of books under her bed to grab, and I decided those needed to be brought out first. That’d be the worst on my back. I couldn’t avoid it forever.
Slowly, I eased down, reaching under the bed. Shit, that hurt. I winced, snagging the farthest ones, and couldn’t shake the pain when I sat back up. I held the books out for her, but she didn’t take them.
Her eyebrows knitted with concern, her dark eyes suddenly piercing.
“You’re hurt,” she said, surprised.
My heart skipped a beat. I stared back at her. “What?”
“You’re hurt,” Tallulah repeated, taking the books from me. “What happened?”
“I—I—” It was my turn to stutter. How did she know? I was doing my hardest not to limp, not to show any signs of how much my body didn’t want to move. How did she know?
Excuses bubbled up and I grabbed the first one. “I had a game yesterday—”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not it.”
Holy shit. My team was sworn to secrecy, but Tallulah fished my pain out herself.
I couldn’t believe it. Shame swept in with the surprise, more overwhelming than the dull pain.
I couldn’t handle it if Tallulah found out why I was hurting and why I would continue to hurt for the rest of the summer.
The humiliation would be more than I could bear.
And…Tallulah would have questions about why I signed on with Tomasini in the first place.
“I didn’t stretch enough,” I blurted out. “And played too hard at practice before the game.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “You did?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
For a moment, her expression wavered. Some part of her didn’t believe me. That wasn’t shocking. It was almost impossible to lie to her like that, it didn’t sound convincing. Slowly, I could see her accept the excuse.
“I’m sorry.” She touched my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I held in the breath of relief. “It’s not important.”
Tallulah went to her desk, fishing out a small first-aid kit. “Do you want painkillers?”
“Yeah, sure.” I cleared my throat. “So, uh…starting Saturday, we’re going to have more…practice time. It’ll be earlier. Probably longer.”
“How much earlier?”
“Five o’clock in the morning—”
“Oof.” Tallulah made a sympathetic noise, grabbing my water bottle from the desk. “That’s even worse.” She walked over holding it and the painkillers. “The guys didn’t complain?”
“It’s just—” I stopped myself, swallowing the pills with a swish of water. Tallulah would never buy that it was only me going in for practices. “I’m training with the other half of the team. None of the guys in-house will be training with me.”
“They get to sleep in while the other half has to wake up hours earlier? That’s not fair.”
The secret was on the tip of my tongue. The secret I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to keep, the one now weighing on me with every lie I had to tell her.
I couldn’t keep talking about this. I didn’t want to waste my time with Tallulah. We needed to switch topics, fast, and I quickly pulled out the rest of her books, my fingers grasping something else under the bed. Zippers and—what was that?
I ducked my head underneath, spotting something out of place in Tallulah’s neat and orderly system.
A black duffel bag.
“What is this?” I frowned. Tallulah didn’t say anything while I sat back on the floor, quickly unzipping it. The contents didn’t make any sense. “What is this bag of crap?”
Tallulah was quiet for a moment. She slipped to the bed, her hands in her lap. “Um…someone packed it for me for my trip.”
I arched an eyebrow. “For you?”
“Yes?”
I held up the bag of Morton's pretzels, plain salted. “You don’t like regular pretzels. And, huh, barbecue chips. Sure. It’s not like barbecue-flavored stuff gives you heartburn or anything.” I scoffed, picking through the snacks. “Can I have these? You won’t eat any of this.”
Tallulah had the weirdest look on her face. Slowly, she nodded.
“These phone chargers aren’t right for your phone.” I remarked, opening a bag of pretzels. I popped one in my mouth. “And neon green socks—you hate neon.”
“I don’t hate neon, I only hate neon green—”
“Tallulah.” I put my arm over the bed, patting her thigh. “You want to be a person who likes neon. You don’t actually like neon.”
“What? Yes, I do.”
“Name one piece of neon clothing in your closet. Just one. Anything. A headband. A pair of earrings”
She fell into puzzled silence, opening her mouth and closing it.
“Yeah, I’ll give you a number.” I held up a broken pretzel, making the perfect zero.
“Do you remember the drive-in theater? You were freezing, and I offered you my neon purple hoodie. You should’ve seen your look of disgust. I had to get my sweatshirt out of the trunk because you refused to take the hoodie.
” I chuckled. “I never wear that neon hoodie anymore. I know you won’t take it if you’re cold. ”
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, she just stared.
I frowned. “What?”
“You know me? Like…you know me.”
“You may be a quiet person, Tallulah, but you’re not subtle,” I said. “Everything’s written on your face. If someone can’t see that, they’re not looking hard enough.”
I almost threw another pretzel in my mouth when Tallulah stopped me. She slipped off the bed, taking my face in her hands, and leaned down to crash her lips against mine. I was so surprised, the pretzels hit the floor. Fuck it, I didn’t care. I cupped her face too, kissing her just as eagerly.
“When we finish packing, do you want to go get kebabs?” Tallulah whispered, kissing me again.
“Yeah.” I nodded, threading my fingers through her hair. “Fuck yeah.”
“Good.” She nodded, breathless. “Let’s go home.”
“Let’s go home.”