by Claire Adams
His tone changed immediately when he realized it was me. “Ah, Miss Barnett! I've been hoping to hear from you! You played one hell of a game. You've got real talent, kid, serious talent. And, Stanford will help you to develop that talent and take it as far as it can possibly go. You ready to hear our offer?”
“I am,” I replied.
He explained the benefits to me, and as everyone had told me, I knew it was an offer I'd be stupid to refuse. I just had one question to ask him.
“When would you like me to make the move to Stanford?”
“How soon can you? I can arrange everything in a couple of days. I know it's sudden, Miss Barnett, but Stanford is really trying to put together a killer team this season. We've lost two games and our current crop of players just isn't cutting it. We need fresh talent right now.”
I was taken aback at how soon that was. “That soon? How long can I wait? I'm not sure if I can do it that soon.”
“Uh, well I'm afraid we can't hold this place open for too long, even for someone as talented as yourself. Like I said, just give me the go-ahead and I can make everything happen within a week. If that's fine, please, tell me, and I'll make the arrangements.
“I'm sorry, but like I said, this is urgent. I know it's a big decision to make, and I'm not giving you much time to make it.”
“Can I call you back tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“All right, then. Have a good night, Mr. Jefferson.”
“You, too, Miss Barnett. It was a pleasure talking with you.”
I cut the call off and stared up at the night sky. It was all so overwhelming – but I also knew that drawing it out would only make it more painful. I took a deep breath, and then dialed his number again.
“Miss Barnett?” he said, sounding surprised as he answered the call.
“I'll take it,” I said. “I can leave in a week, if you can help me with that.”
It was almost as if I could hear him smile through the phone. “That's exactly what I was hoping to hear, Miss Barnett. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything.”
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You, too. I'll call you when everything has been arranged.”
I cut the call off, sat down on the curb, and started to cry.
*****
I'd called Wade soon after I'd called Mr. Jefferson that Sunday night. We'd spoken, we'd cried, but we'd both agreed not to see each other again – it would just make things too painful. We would always have the memory of that beautiful weekend in Miami, and that's how we wanted to remember each other.
Of course, that hadn't helped with the pain and sadness – even more so because I'd had to keep it concealed from my best friend, my sister, and my mom. And, of course, there was the grief I felt at leaving my mom behind, as well.
I was, of course, also feeling excited. How could I not be? This was going to be one of the greatest experiences and opportunities of my life. Still, at the moment, I was feeling more sadness than anything else.
But it was here; the moment had almost arrived. My flight was in two hours, and I'd packed. Some things I was leaving at my mom's place in storage, others I was taking with me. My bags were bursting, and Leena and I had moved out of our apartment.
Luckily, her dad, who was fairly wealthy, had agreed to cover the loss of the deposit from our landlord on account of our moving out so quickly and unexpectedly. I was going to meet her at the airport shortly, as we'd be flying together. At least I wasn't going there all alone; having my best friend make this journey with me was a small consolation.
“I can't believe you're about to leave,” my mom said with tears in her eyes. “But I'm so happy for you and so proud of you. This is going to be a real, life-changing opportunity for you. My little girl, off to one of the best colleges in the country! You've made me the proudest mom in the world.
“And since you'll be in California, you'll be able to see Anne so much more often. And your nephew and niece – and the new one who's on the way!”
“I know, Mom,” I replied, “and I'm looking forward to seeing the kids. But I'm gonna miss you so much. I really am. Are you sure you'll be all right out here by yourself? I really think you should consider moving out there, too.”
“I will be fine. I raised you two all on my own, remember? Now, I just have myself to take care of – it's much easier! I'll miss you so much, though, my beautiful, talented daughter.”
“I'll miss you, too, Mom. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
A horn sounded outside in the street. “The taxi's here,” Mom said, her voice cracking a little. “Come on, don't keep him waiting.”
I hugged her tightly one last time and then, with tears in my eyes, I got my luggage and walked out. I gave my mom a last, teary look and waved goodbye, and then shut the door behind me, feeling as if my heart had been torn in two.
I made my way out to the taxi, took one last look at my home – the place where I'd grown up – and then climbed in.
“Airport, right?” the driver said as he loaded my luggage into the trunk.
“Yes, please.”
“Let's go then,” he said as he climbed into the driver's seat.
“Yes, let's go,” I sighed – and that was it. As he took off, I left my old life behind.
My phone buzzed in my bag. I took it out and saw that it was a message from Wade. My heart immediately began beating faster as I opened it.
Good luck at Stanford, beautiful. I know you've made the right choice. No matter what happens, you'll always be in my heart. I love you. Wade.
I'll never forget you either, Wade, I said in my reply. Never. I couldn’t bring myself to type out the word goodbye…even though I knew that’s exactly what that text was.
I put the phone back in my bag and quietly wept in the back seat.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wade
I awoke with a pounding headache and an excessively dry mouth that felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. I groaned as I rolled over in my bed and checked the clock on my bedside table. That woke me up pretty quick – I needed to be on campus in half an hour.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I growled under my breath as I scrambled to get out of bed.
Something heavy shifted as I flung the covers off my body, and a second later, the tinkle and crunch of glass smashing to the floor echoed through my room.
I looked down at the broken bottle at my feet – the whiskey bottle from last night. Great. Now there was broken glass all over my bedroom floor.
Nausea swished and sloshed its discomfort around my belly. I did my best to tiptoe around the glass shards, making sure I didn't cut my feet open, and then ran into the bathroom to get showered and cleaned up as quickly as I could.
I'd have to skip breakfast, obviously. As it was, just jumping in and out of the shower and trying to brush my teeth at the same time, I didn't know if I'd make it to work on time.
And, of course, beyond the physical pain and sickness from the hangover, a deeper feeling of pain stabbed constantly at my insides with a million jagged blades: the pain of loss.
It was constantly, acutely gnawing at me with a relentless force. This pain, this sense of longing and aching – aching for Eryn.
I should have known it was too good to be true. Whenever anything seemed that perfect, life came along and took it away. We had been so good together, and I had never felt so strongly for anyone. I should have realized that it wouldn't last. It couldn't, it simply couldn't. Nobody got that lucky. They just didn't.
All I could do now was try to get her out of my thoughts, out of my head, out of my heart…somehow. I wasn't sure how, but it was the only thing I could do.
I'd tried drinking her away last night. It had helped numb the pain somewhat, but it hadn't done much in terms of getting her out of my mind. In fact, it had only made me think of her more. And, make me angry.
Of course, I wasn't angry with her or myself – ho
w could I be? It was her future that had been at stake, and I certainly wasn’t about to be the person to ask her to give it up. Not in a million years. She'd done the right thing by taking the scholarship – and we both knew that. Only, now we would both have to deal with the emotional consequences of it.
The jets of hot water from the shower spurred fresh energy into my veins, and even though I was still feeling like death, to put it bluntly, I felt as if maybe – just maybe – I could make it through the day. After giving myself a quick scrub, I hurried off to work. It looked like I might just make it on time if I drove fast enough and the traffic didn't hold me up. I locked my house up and ran out to my garage. It was gonna be a rough day.
*****
A sharp knocking on my office door roused me from the semi-nap I'd fallen into at my desk. I awoke with a start, a blast of pain shooting through my forehead as the migraine returned with a vengeance. I let out a low groan as I massaged my temples.
“It's open,” I said, my voice laced with pain, “come on in.”
The door opened and Jack walked in. Usually, I was the one walking into his office, and for the first time I noticed that, despite his advanced years, he still carried himself with a ramrod straight posture and an ease of movement that suggested latent power in his muscles, still taut and firm from a strict regimen of rigorous exercise. Not bad for a man in his late 60s.
“Wade,” he said, nodding stiffly as he went to take a seat across the desk from me.
“Good afternoon, Jack,” I said, doing my best to pretend I wasn't hungover as hell. “What can I do for you?”
He looked decidedly uneasy, and I couldn't help wondering what exactly was wrong. “Listen, there's a bit of an, umm, a sticky matter we need to talk about.”
Suddenly, panic rippled through my veins – had someone discovered the secret of Eryn and me? That would seriously be the cherry on top of my heartache – after all this pain, to have yet more lumped on and possibly be fired. I grimaced as I waited for him to explain what the situation was.
“So, you kicked those two girls off the team, what were their names again? Tammy and Kelly?”
I nodded. “Yes, well…you removed them from the volleyball team a few weeks ago.”
“Yes, and you and the department were formally informed about the incident and reviewed the evidence I presented,” I added.
I couldn't help feeling a sensation of immense relief; at least this wasn't about Eryn. “Yes, yes...um, yes, the case against them was very strong.”
He seemed to be beating around the bush. I didn’t like it. I wondered what was going on.
“As far as I was concerned, it was an open and shut case. They deliberately injured another player and one of them conspired to commit a criminal act to get your phone,” he paused.
“I gave you hard evidence of them pretty much confessing their crime, and appropriate action was taken against them...so what's the problem now, Jack?”
He didn't seem to want to look me in the eye. Something was definitely up. He sighed heavily. “You have to put them back on the team, Wade.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My eyes grew wide. “Wait. What? Did I just hear you right? But, they were guilty! There was hard evidence! How can you tell me now that I have to put them back on the team?”
“Things aren't as simple as that, Wade. I wish they could be, but...they're not. Look, the one girl's father-”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I interrupted him. “Yeah, he's a big-shot lawyer. I know. But come on, no damn lawyer in the world could make a case against evidence like that! They're guilty, straight up!”
“He draws a lot of water in this town. And, he's made a lot of financial contributions to the university. He hasn't threatened to make trouble...yet. But he has suggested that perhaps he may not be so generous with his contributions in future. And as you know, on the financial side, the university is a little tight and...”
He trailed off. I knew that he was a proud man, an upstanding man, and that he didn't like bowing to pressure like this any more than I did. But he wasn’t the one calling the shots and his department needed those financial contributions. He realized that it might not be worth fighting this battle in terms of what he could lose.
“So, what you’re telling me is even though they're guilty, and hell, even though I don't think they're even good enough to be on the starting lineup-” I started.
“I'm not asking you to put them on the starting lineup, Wade. That would be crossing a line. But I am asking you to allow them to at least come back to practices and have the opportunity to improve their game so they can have a chance at making the starting lineup.”
I breathed in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “This is bullshit,” I said softly. “But I don’t have much choice here, do I? Fine, whatever. Send them back. It's pointless for me to fight this battle anyway, isn’t it, Jack?”
“Thank you for understanding,” he said. “I'll be off now.”
“Have a great afternoon,” I said coldly and flatly.
He still couldn't look me in the eye. He got up, smiled weakly, and hurried out of my office.
After he shut the door, though, I exploded. I grabbed the nearest thing to me – a thick encyclopedia of sports medicine – and flung it with furious force across the room. Then I slammed my fist down on the desk and cussed as loud as I could. I sat down and fumed with anger and frustration for a good few minutes. Why the hell was everything going so badly right now?
Despite the hangover, I felt like I needed another drink to deal with all of this. I got out my phone and typed a quick message to John.
Hey, buddy, how's the day going? Feel like a beer or five after work?
The response was almost instant. I could always count on John being up for a drink.
Wade! Definitely down for a drink later. How big you wanna go? How bad is it? There's a bar downtown with a special on pitchers tonight.
I typed a quick response.
Pitchers sound like just what I need right now. I’ll call you after work.
*****
“So I say to her, 'but you haven't even seen it yet! C'mon, don't knock it until you try it!’”
“And then what happened?” I chuckled stupidly, my head swimming from the alcohol.
“Then she just snatched up her handbag and walked out of my place, still in her bra and G-string!”
We both laughed loudly, and John called the waitress over. “Hey, sweetie, one more pitcher, please.”
“Whoa, hold up, hold up,” I said as the waitress turned to go get our order. “I'm not sure if I can handle one more, John. Shit, man, I still need to work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess I do, too. All right, all right, just bring us the bill then, would ya?”
The waitress nodded and hurried off to fetch the bill.
“Thanks for a good evening, man,” I said to John. “I needed the distraction.”
He smiled at me. “No problem, bro! But, man, I can tell something is up with you. And it's not that stuff about those two, fake-tittied little vixens you had to let back on your volleyball team. Come on, I know when something serious is up with you.”
I wanted to tell him all about Eryn and myself, but I just couldn't. Not yet. It wasn't for fear that the secret would get out and I'd lose my job. I knew I could trust John with pretty much anything.
No, it was because it was just still too painful to talk about. I mean, after all, I'd come out to the bar and drank so much because I wanted to forget, to try to numb the pain. Dredging it up would just make things worse.
“Nah, it's really nothing, man. It's just stress from the job.”
“You sure, Wade?”
He didn't seem convinced, and of course, I was lying – but I couldn't talk about it yet.
“Yeah, man, I'm sure,” I replied.
“All right. But remember, I'm here if you ever need to talk about stuff.”
“I know, Johnny. And, I appreciate that.
I really do.”
We paid the bill, said our goodbyes, and each hailed a taxi. After I got back home, I went to take a long shower, hoping to lessen the heavy buzz I was nursing. Luckily, it wasn’t so much that it felt as if the room was spinning or anything, but buzzed enough.
When I got out of the shower, my phone was ringing. It was really late, and I was surprised that anyone would be calling me at such an hour. My first thought, hope, was that maybe for some reason it was Eryn. But it was wishful thinking.
My eyes grew wide with surprise when I saw the name lit up on the screen: Georgia, my actress ex. I'd been ignoring her messages for months and avoiding any gossip websites or tabloids or anything of the sort where I'd see mention of her.
But, since she was a celebrity, it was kinda hard to totally block out any mention of her at all, and I'd noticed that she'd been dating some musician recently. Not that I cared. It wasn't that I missed her that I avoided such things – it was that I really did want to get over that part of my life and not be reminded of it.
Still, as I was feeling buzzed, the curiosity of why she was calling got the better of me, and poor judgment won out.
I picked up the call.
“Georgia.”
“Wade, it's so good to hear your voice again.” Her tone was a purr, soft and seductive. It was a tone I knew only too well.
“Um, yeah. What's up?” I asked.
“I miss you, Wade. I really do.”
I breathed in a deep breath, and let it out as a long, slow sigh. “We agreed that this was for the best, Georgia. We weren't working out, and we both knew that. Look-”
“I know what we agreed,” she interrupted, “but I can't stop myself from missing you. Your hard muscles, your gorgeous eyes, your sculpted body, and that long, thick-”
“Hold up, hold up, come on, you can't do this, Georgia.”
“I'm not asking you to get back together with me. I just... I just want one night with you. One night so that we can say goodbye to each other properly. Do you understand? Just one last night of passion that we can both remember. Then we'll move on. Please, Wade...I just want a little closure. And, I know you miss this body. You used to worship it, and it's so hungry for you. So desperately hungry.”