It’s hard to focus in class and work each game, though I avoid him as much as possible. Lots of folks have asked me why we aren’t together, and I don’t have an answer.
I try not to look at him, but he’s all I see. The torment eats away all my resolve, at every practice and every game, every hour I’m in the training room. He’s having a good season, breaking his records. But man, I’m not. I’m living in a nightmare.
I don’t know what to do besides keep moving. Wrap wrists. Stretch out shoulders. Make ice packs. Fill up water bottles. Rehab Zac’s knees. Massage Ethan’s back after it has a heat pack. Act like a robot, because my feelings hurt too much to let me do more than the basics. Stay numb so that I can function. Maybe it’s good to learn how to do this. I need to keep my emotions from getting in the way of my job.
Bobby isn’t in the training room much and, when he is, it’s to see Mindy. They are always in the back office talking privately. Fine. They can both hate me together.
“It didn’t work out with Bobby, did it, love?” Jae wipes off the last table before we leave for the night.
Even though he’s the hundredth person to ask, he’s the only one I care to talk with.
“It’s a long story.” I shrug.
He walks with me to my car, and I drive him to his place.
I stare at the rundown dorms. A few people cluster in the corner, having fun on a Friday night. “I thought that it was the most beautiful thing in the world, bein’ with him.”
“So why’d you stop?” Jae asks these questions in a way I don’t mind. Having this conversation feels good, like all this bottled up emotion is being set free.
I sigh. “It wasn’t what I thought it was. I couldn’t handle bein’ there when I knew that he’d been keepin’ somethin’ big from me. It hurt too much.”
“And this bit about not being with him? Does that hurt less?”
“Not in the slightest.” I let out a chuckle, more sad than funny. “I thought that Cody cared about me. But it wasn’t real. None of it was real.”
“But with Bobby?” His question makes me think.
Maybe there is a way to separate Bobby from Cody, looking for the truth behind my naive perceptions. Moments with Bobby run through my head, the way I felt with him. It was different with us. I was happier than I’ve ever been.
“I hoped it was.” The words hurt coming out of my lips, because I realize it’s true.
“Do you think it could be again?” Jae holds my gaze for several heartbeats.
“I don’t know.” Usually in a breakup, friends say to move on, get a good fuck and rebound. But Trish and Jae, some of my closest friends, are supporting me to figure out if this could be mended. Mental note...figure out if they are right.
“Seems there’s at least a slight chance if your immediate response isn’t ‘no’. Maybe that’s a good place to start.” He smiles, getting out of the car. “You’ll figure it out, love.” He leans on the open car window. “I’ll say this, though. When you were together it was the best I’ve ever seen you and Bobby, so if it really was bloody real, then I would do whatever it takes to get that back. Because I know a connection that strong is near impossible to find.” He shakes his head, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.
I watch him go, wondering if I could give Bobby another chance. Would he want to after what I said?
At the first real test, I ran away. I failed us.
How could it have been real if it was founded on a secret? The moment the thought enters my mind, I know it’s far from the truth. We were real. Every relationship has challenges. Two imperfect people can’t hope for anything close to perfection. But it felt so perfect. Was that part real? Everything that wasn’t the past. Our present. Is that real?
So fucking real.
Our truth.
My truth.
At home, the journals and photo books remain in a mess on my floor. I take a deep breath and look at them one more time. Going to our dresser, I pull on that same shirt that I wore that day when Bobby held me crying–Cody’s AC/DC shirt.
It was Bobby’s strength that I borrowed that day, wasn’t it? I remember feeling so lost. So alone. I needed his strength to teach me to keep going. It turned out, he needed it more than I did.
A groan escapes from deep inside me, my anger turns back on myself for not seeing. Instead of trying to understand, I shut down. The truth pulls at every insecurity. It’s colored me from believing anything. But maybe, just maybe, both things were real.
Is it possible that Cody really loved me and that Bobby really loves both of us?
I pull the shirt tight near my chest, the pain so palpable it could be a heart attack. Is it possible that I can be in love with both of them, even after knowing the truth?
I’m scared of getting hurt. That just like my parents, Bobby will keep telling me lies. That he will keep things from me forever.
He might.
I’ve replayed our fight a thousand times. Replayed our relationship a thousand times. Every part of me felt the things I longed for with Cody and never had.
It was fucking real.
I know that with every part of my soul.
I fall asleep curled around the shirt, waking less than an hour later. The next few hours I toss and turn, wondering if I need to go see him, or if I need to call him, or if I need to let the Universe and God and Jesus handle it all. I don’t know the answer; maybe there is no answer.
I breathe in the pain and hold onto it tight, like I don’t know how to feel anything but pain anymore.
When I was with Cody it was pain for all the hard things in his life. Or it was pain for me and the times my parents lied, putting their needs above mine. I’ve been hovering beneath their control for so long.
I won’t hover beneath anyone ever again.
Bobby convinced me I don’t have to live the life they want. My butterfly he called me. The one who gets to be free.
I stare at our ceiling, hoping I’m finally in a place to learn the truth.
I wish you would’ve told me, Cody. I wish I would’ve known.
With Cody, it was so wonderful and so hard to be with him at the same time–a constant pull of what he wanted to be and who he was. Now I know why.
My heart breaks for him, because he never needed to try so hard to be with me.
I ache, knowing that Bobby is such a good lover. He must’ve been good to you, too, Cody. But you chose to be with me.
Tears I don’t expect run down my face. I don’t talk to Cody much. It usually hurts more than I can bear–but right now, he’s the one I need.
Bobby told me that the reason he finally let go, the reason he was able to try with me was because he felt like it was okay with you. Well, Cody, did you put us together? You left us both here. And if Bobby still feels this close to you and feels like you want us to be together, then maybe there’s still more to all this that I need to figure out. You want us to be happy, don’t you?
That thought feels beautiful. I’ve always believed in an afterlife, and though it’s hard for me to feel close to anyone who has passed on, I like to believe they’re watching over us. Like guardian angels waiting to earn their wings by helping those they left behind.
Is that why you put us together? So we can be happy?
I was with Cody because he believed in me. I was so starved for that sort of acceptance. We were so young, and I’d never felt accepted by anyone else. It all feels like a mistake, now. But he wasn’t a mistake. A beautiful disaster? Yes. But not a mistake.
Bobby is a beautiful disaster, too.
He didn’t want to hurt me, he said so himself. Our story isn’t one that has a playbook.
Pain blooms in my chest because I was so hard on Bobby when I left his apartment that night. He’s so hard on himself, too.
It feels silly that I can’t be with Bobby over a lie–or rather, a secret–when so much about being with him is what we both need. I suppose he didn’t really lie to me, I was just missing a lot
of the story, and blaming it on him.
It feels better, realizing how much of me wants to be with him. That soothing memory of Bobby washes over my skin, the way he held me in his arms, the way I felt safe and at peace with him. This is a bump in the road, but it doesn’t have to be our ending. Maybe we don’t have to get back together, but we can reach some sort of resolve.
Forgiving him will take time, and I’m worried. But I’m ready to try again.
Because like Jae said, something this real is almost impossible to find.
41
BOBBY
MAY - END OF THE SEASON
These last nine games have flown by. Seeing Lexie is the worst kind of torture I’ve ever endured. Of course, she’s professional. Acting normal. Like nothing happened.
She’s a good actress, too. If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t believe it even affected her.
At Briar’s, I thought maybe I could fix things with Lexie. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I can’t. I’ll just hurt her more.
She’s resilient, but I can see the pain in her eyes. Pain I put there. The eyes she tries to not let me see. I was a fucking idiot not to tell her sooner. No, not an idiot. Selfish. I didn’t want it to end, and the longer I waited to tell her, the worse it got.
The space from our relationship makes me sure that we weren’t in a place to be together. I sure as hell know I wasn’t. I’ll never regret what we had. The moments we shared will always be some of my favorites. But I’ll leave them there. As memories.
After winning the game, we all go out for a team dinner at one of the local barbecue places reserved just for us.
Mom is on another trip with Nira. Hasn’t shown up to a single game. It’s silly, but the little boy inside of me longs for her to be there, cheering me on.
This may be the first time in her life she feels fulfilled. I know what’s that like, because well, I’ve been missing that too. Lexie was all the fulfillment I could ever hope to attain in this life. And I fucking ruined it.
I’m heading to my truck when I see her. Lexie.
Shit, I’m all sweaty right now, my hair’s a mess under my Yankees cap. I literally just threw on shorts and a shirt up after taking off my uniform. She looks amazing despite working so hard at the game. Of course she does. For a second I want her, but I shove that as far away as I can. That swelling in my throat wants to swallow me whole.
“Hey, Bobby. Can we talk?”
I stop in my tracks, unable to breathe. She wants to talk. Jeez, not now. I want to, but I can’t. Sorting through all the hurt hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I can’t fix things with her until I work on myself.
I take cautious steps toward her, my heart stuck in my throat. Her arms wrap around me. That touch. She feels like home. My body lingers in her grasp.
No. I can’t. We can’t talk.
“Remember what you said, back at Christmastime on our hike?” she asks against my shoulder. “Can we agree to be patient with each other? Work through stuff one step at a time?”
It would’ve been nice if she could have said this the night I tried to tell her about my secrets. Now, it’s too late.
It takes every bit of power I have to push away. “Please, don’t.” The words emerge from my lips, a hoarse whisper.
“Bobby.” She looks into my eyes and I lose ability to see straight. All of the things between us are a tangled heap of confusion and pain. “I know I treated you like fuck that night. I wanna make it better. I miss you.”
I stand frozen, blood racing out of control. Timid, like she isn’t sure if it’s okay, she holds me in the sweetest embrace. Her presence is everything I’ve been longing for. If there was any doubt in my mind how I felt, I know now. I’m still in love with her. Like magnets, we are drawn together. I can’t break myself free. I’m lost in time and space of all that we were.
Several heartbeats later, she takes a step backward. “I just needed some time to think and process all this.” Her eyes are hopeful. “But I wanna know why. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Look, I wasn’t in a place that I could hear you that night in your apartment, but I am now.” She looks excited, like she’s really wanting to just jump back in. “Sorry.” She smoothes my shirt. “I should’ve asked before I did that, I just needed to hug you.” Embarrassment makes her cheeks blush and it’s the sweetest fucking thing.
I needed to hug you too, Lex. I wanna say to her, but I can’t.
I force a long breath, hoping to find some measure of control.
“To answer your question, I promised him I would never tell a soul.” It comes out raspy. “And I haven’t. Not once. Until you.”
Her eyes are shining with unspilled tears. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” My throat burns.
“Why did you tell me now?”
“Because I couldn’t bear keepin’ it from you anymore.” My body gnaws at my broken heart, realizing just how much she hurt me by not letting me explain.
“I overreacted. Even Trish and Jae–”
“Shit, Lex. Did you tell them?” Worry courses through my head to my toes. I never thought about who she may tell. “Cody didn’t want people to know. And I can’t come out, not with baseball.” It’s a whisper, because shit if a teammate walking to their car overhears. Briar doesn’t even know. The potential headline comes to mind again. Suicidal Bisexual Baseball Player Ridden with an Eating Disorder, Bobby Anderson throws away a promising Major League Career.
“I know you can’t.” She hugs her body, a defensive tone taking her voice.
“I’ve been very careful not to let it get public that I’ve been with guys.” I’m whispering quieter now, backing behind my truck, worried about getting caught.
“I told Trish, but not Jae.” Her eyebrows raise. “I wasn’t doin’ it to blow your secret. She won’t talk.”
“You told Trish?” I feel sick, like all that food is gonna come right back up. After all this time of being cautious, it just slipped through my fingers. I can’t untell a secret.
“I needed someone to talk to.”
“It could’ve been me, Lex.” My insides erode because now she and Trish know a secret that I was never supposed to tell. Not just Cody’s, but mine. “I haven’t even told my Dad how I identify, for Christ’s sake.” It’s hard not to yell. I’m so fucking angry that she tossed out something I’ve kept with such care.
“I wasn’t ready to talk to you. You know how much I hate secrets. How much it strangled all the breath from me to see what you shared in that old journal of his.” Her voice is raised and a few people look over as they walk to their cars.
“Shh.” I put my finger on my lips. “Jeez, you wanna talk, fine. But don’t you dare draw attention to us in this parkin’ lot.” I curl my toes into my shoes.
“Okay,” she whispers.
With a measured breath, I continue. “I didn’t wanna tell you at all. I didn’t want this to hurt you. For you to regret what you and Cody had. Maybe if you woulda known how he felt, it wouldn’t have hurt you so bad.” I hold the back of my neck. Most of the team has left. I glance around to make sure we are alone. It’s safe to talk. “When I figured out I was bi, it took a while to know if it was okay. So many people told me it wasn’t. Like the people at church. Hell, our school teachers. Society told me it wasn’t acceptable. It told me to stifle these feelings and keep them deep down where they can’t lead to mistakes. But I still felt the way that I feel. I wasn’t sure if I was good enough to ask you out, Lexie. Wasn’t sure if it was okay how I felt. You asked why I didn’t. That was a big part of it. If it was wrong of me to be bi, then I wasn’t worthy of goin’ out with anyone.”
I look at her face for a moment. There’s compassion in her eyes. It helps me to see this. I really didn’t know how she felt.
“I’m sad you’ve gone through so much.” One side of her mouth lifts up in a sympathetic smile.
“I’m sad I’ve gone through it, too. I’m even more sad that a lot
of people have it worse. It’s fucked up.” I flip my cap around backward, needing something to do with my hands. “After a while, I knew it was okay with me. I accepted who I was. Cody helped me figure that out. That love is love and however I felt and expressed it didn’t make me less of a person. I realized that this is all social pressure from people who don’t understand.”
“You’re right.” She’s hanging on my every word. “I hate that this is so hard.”
“But people treat you different when they know. You’re not you anymore. You’re somethin’ messed up. Like they are afraid to be around you or to talk to you. It’s an insane stigma. It wasn’t how I wanted people to view me. So I knew I could keep it secret. I could be bi to myself, and love and accept that part of who I am. But no one else needed to know.” Air fills my lungs, finally getting this off my chest. “It’s all kinds of complicated for me to talk about it. But I’ve wanted to. I always planned on tellin’ you at some point. I just didn’t know when or how.” I stretch my shoulders. “I wish with everything that I am that Cody coulda been up front with you. But he wasn’t. He left me with this mess.”
“I’m glad you told me.” She takes my hands in hers. “And I am sorry, I’m not sure what to do. I’m ready now, maybe we can–”
“No, we can’t. Okay, Lex? We can’t.” It takes all my strength to pull away from her. My body is burning up, like an addict without my fix. I’m glad I could talk to her, but being in a relationship isn’t an option. “We can’t be this to each other. We are only gonna keep hurtin’ each other. I don’t know how not to hurt you. I am so fuckin’ broken right now. You have no idea.” I can’t let my fight with the world become her fight. I can’t let her nurse me through my eating disorder. I can’t be her project. There’s too much wrong with me that would just hurt her.
“I want to have an idea. I want you to tell me what you’re feeling, what you’re goin’ through. We are both broken. You know that. We need to help each other heal. I felt more healing with you than anythin’ else. I just didn’t know how to handle the truth. It was everythin’ I didn’t want to know. My biggest fears that I wouldn’t even consciously acknowledge to myself. It took time to unravel everythin’. But I’m crazy about you, Bobby. Remember all those sweet moments we had?”
A Game Like Ours: Suncastle College Book One Page 32