by Claire Adams
All I had to go on were reports from the few other players I'd met who were coming to the facility to get their individual training in before camp started. Apparently, it was brutal. Long days, early start time, two practices a day, weightlifting, and a lot of playbook study. Some of them were coming to the facility to get their injuries taken care of before camp so they didn't end up making them worse. I had made it through playing in high school and college without any really bad injuries, but the point was still to be careful. When you're an athlete, your body is your bread. You break something bad enough and the checks stop coming in.
"I have a feeling you'll be just fine," Coach Hayes told me. "Just concentrate. Remember why you're here. Nobody said it would be easy, but it will be worth it." I nodded, thanking him for his advice. I had been trying to work on my strength and endurance since moving. If nothing else, I didn't want to feel ground down to dust by the end of each training day when camp started. "How's the move been treating you?"
"Fine," I said, shrugging again. The weather had been 89 degrees or hotter since I had gotten here. It was going to stay that high, crawling into the mid-nineties through August. With the humidity, it was kind of ridiculous. It hadn't been long enough for my body to be able to take it yet.
"Where were you before? South Dakota?"
"This isn't Aberdeen, but I'll be okay." He gave a look like he'd heard it before from enough guys to doubt whether it was actually true.
"Keep your body in shape. You go hard in the gym, you make sure you aren't straining anything," he said. I nodded, saying I would. I had already been to the team's chiropractor, who had been disgusted by my flexibility and had me on this stretching routine I had to do after every workout. I wasn't complaining about the massages or using the whirlpools, though.
I had just been getting ready to leave. I had come by just before noon and it was four now. He let me go, heading towards his office and letting me go to the locker room.
It was still pretty easy up to now, I was going to enjoy it before it got tough. I grabbed my stuff and drove back to my apartment, stopping by a little Cuban place I had been picking food up from for the past few days. Cooking wasn't really my thing, but while moving in for the past several days, it had basically gone out the window.
I pulled into the complex I lived in and parked my car in the parking garage. My new car. It had been one of the first things I had gotten when I got here. I had thought that maybe I'd get something used after selling my old one, but with my signing bonus, I didn't end up having to. I parked and rode the elevator up to my place.
Rachel had been right. This place was worth it. It was fucking massive. I had thought the place back home had been a problem because it had two bedrooms. This one had one more than that, a kitchen with equipment I'd never even heard of and was more expensive to rent than the house, even though it was an apartment. That said, it was a five-minute walk to the beach, ten-minute drive to the facility, and the master bedroom balcony looked over the ocean.
It was a lot, but apparently, all the guys lived like this, most even better than this. I was slumming. On the way to the facility each day, I drove past these huge mansions, places with yards and pools, right on the water. One of my new teammates, a guy named Jon, lived along that strip, and he had invited me over. What the fuck did he do with five bedrooms when he lived alone? I didn't get it. It was nice, but it was just more rooms to try keep clean.
I shouldn't have complained about the nice things my signing bonus had managed to get me, but it was just very different from what I was used to. Thinking about it a little, it occurred to me. Privacy; that was it. Those big ass houses were like castles, secure and secluded.
Rachel, an assistant who helped the new transplants out, had tried to get me to buy one but I had passed. This was enough. It was in a secure building, close to work and I could still see the beach. I could probably afford to move, but the worst time to start feeling froggy was now when I could start putting money away for the future.
I had taken a shower before coming home so I just walked straight through to the bedroom. Rachel had taken care of the furnishing for me, which was why it looked like someone who knew what they were doing had put it together. I was high up enough to not need drapes, but she had gone for this general dark, muted color scheme. Leather couches in the living room, a rough-hewn, rugged-looking dining table I had warned her I'd never use, but she had gotten anyway. End tables, nightstands, everything I did and didn't need.
It had grown on me since moving in. Today was the last day that deliveries had come in. I had left Rachel with a key to get everything set up, and I had to say, she had done a pretty good job. Some shit you just wanted someone else to do because they knew what they were doing. I loved the kitchen, even though I didn't use it. The fridge had two doors and was mostly empty.
Ron would love it, I thought when I saw it. She'd have a field day with the whole place. Maybe I'd figure out how to make more than just pasta in cheese sauce, in her honor.
My phone vibrated against my leg in my pocket as I walked to the kitchen to grab some water. Ron had been the last thing on my mind before picking up, so it was a little disappointing that that hadn't somehow made it her name on the phone. It was Tiffany.
"Hello?"
"Rome?"
"What's up?" I asked. She had been checking on me almost every day since I had moved.
"I was just checking in. How are you?" I was older than her, but someone needed to let her know that.
"Same as yesterday. My house is finally done."
"I'm so glad you got a professional to handle that this time."
"I am, too," I laughed.
"Have you talked to Dad?"
"Not since a couple days ago."
"You need to call him. You know how he is about texts," she lectured.
"Okay, mom. I'll call him. How is everything over there?"
"Already missing us?"
"Yeah. I look off my balcony every day at the ocean and feel like, shit, I wish I was still in Aberdeen," I teased. She laughed.
"See if we'll take you back when you're retired in two years."
"I'm trying for at least five," I mused. I knew how short the average guy got to play for the league. I wasn't planning on being the average guy. "How is everything over there?"
"Fine," she said lightly.
"How's Ron?" I asked carefully.
"Veronica?"
I rolled my eyes. Tiff, acting fake surprised at what I was asking her. I knew what she was doing. "Yeah. Veronica. How is she?"
"You've been gone for a week. Why are you interested now?" she asked. I sighed, looking down. How much of this did I tell her? I didn't want to get into it, but at the same time, I couldn't talk to Ron myself to see how she was. I knew that the two of them were still talking and if she had come up when I talked about her, then I had when she did.
"I care about her. I never got to tell her goodbye before leaving."
"I know. I told her you would have liked for her to be there."
"And, what did she say?" I asked. She paused.
"She told me everything."
"What?"
"Did she tell you why she wanted to end things?"
"Yeah. Some stuff about her old life, the one she had made for herself while I was gone. She wanted that back. I know she didn't wait for me that year I was gone, but after weeks of reconnecting, she suddenly changed her mind. It came out of nowhere."
"We were talking... I think it was the day before she broke up with you. I let it slip that you were talking to a team. I didn't know that you hadn't told her already. She decided she didn't want to be the reason that you stayed. She broke up with you, instead of letting you choose."
"I wanted to choose her. I did choose her. Why wouldn't she want that?"
"Because she loves you," she said like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "She knows that you've always wanted to play. She's seen the hard work you've put in for years and yea
rs and she understood that in your case, maybe this shot with this team would be the only one of its kind to come around."
"I didn't want it if it meant giving her up."
"She was willing to let you go if it meant you got what you've always wanted."
I didn't have anything to say to that. All I had seen was what she had shown me. Her anger when she told me to get out of her life. Her telling me never to talk to her again. She had pushed me away so violently, right to this place. It had been her plan all along. I was here now. I was going to play, but I had lost her. The way I didn't see my future without her, she didn't see my future without this.
"I can't believe she did that."
"Are you sure? Because it seems like a pattern with you two at this point." I shook my head. It did. It was so fucking dysfunctional. How did we each manage to make each other so miserable while just trying to be happy? I couldn't believe it. This was why the fuck I loved her. She could do things like this. I hated that she pushed me away, but now I could see why she did it. I had done it to her, too.
"Yeah. How many more breakups do you think we'll last?" I asked jokingly.
"How about none? Just makeup already and stop doing it. Do you know how hard it is being in the middle of you two?"
"So sorry that's been difficult for you," I said sarcastically.
"I'm serious. I wasn't telling you this so that you would do anything. I just didn't know whether she would ever let you know herself. As far as she's concerned, she doesn't want to be the reason you pass this up. Do what you need to do. Just understand why she did it."
I thanked Tiffany for telling me and we hung up.
Was it wrong to feel like I knew it? I fucking knew it. I fucking knew there was a reason I still loved her. It was because she still loved me. I knew there had to be a reason, something that made her think that us being apart was a good idea, something that wasn't her not wanting to be together anymore. The only reason we would be broken up would be something like this.
I had to do something. I wanted to call her and tell her that I knew and that it was okay. I loved her, and we didn't have to do this anymore. But that wasn't it. If she had done this in the first place, she'd push back if I tried to contact her now. I had to do something though. I looked down at my phone.
I hit Coach Hayes's number and waited.
Chapter 34
Veronica
You did this to yourself. It's almost over. This is the last week you have to do this, then you're free... For like three weeks before you have to do it all over again.
Who had let me talk myself into this? I knew it would all be worth it in the end, but I was ready for it to be over. It was still hot outside, I could make the most of it before school started again and I knew that it had been the right move for me and what I wanted to do.
I could still be bitchy about it. It was still hard. It had still been a sacrifice.
I didn’t even have plans for the few weeks that I would have off of school. All I wanted was to be off. Treating myself to a trip probably wouldn’t be out of order, but I needed to make financial decisions like that when I wasn't highly caffeinated and about to take a test.
"It's finally over," Tiffany said dramatically as we walked towards our classes.
"Almost. Don't jinx it while we're on the home stretch," I laughed.
"Has this semester been longer than the regular ones?"
"No. The days are so long these now it just feels like it has," I reflected. She giggled.
"I can't wait to finish. I'm never doing this again," she said. I'd hold her to that next year when she was a junior.
"Any plans for the last days of summer?"
"Sleep. So much sleep," she sighed. "Nothing else, really. You?" I shrugged, thinking the same thing. I could hold off planning anything till I was really home and free.
"I talked to Roman yesterday," she said.
I paused, feeling my chest tighten slightly. I thought about him every day. Every single day. It would just surprise me when other people brought him up because they, unlike me, were most likely talking to him. That meant they had updates – something I was thirsty for, but didn't want to ask him for myself. I had taken myself out of his life so he could focus on football. That didn't mean I could resist when he came up.
"Yeah? How is he?" I asked casually.
"Great. He likes it over there. He sounded like he's getting on really well."
"That's good to hear."
"I thought so, too. I want to worry about him, then I remember he spent a year in Afghanistan."
"I'd say Afghanistan and Miami are pretty different scenes."
"Yeah. In Miami, all he has to deal with women, money, and scandal," she said lightly, then looked at me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that."
"That's okay. It's true," I choked out. Roman was happy. If part of the reason why was he was meeting other girls then that was a good thing. I tried to be happy for him and failed. Whatever I was, I couldn't be mad. He didn't owe me anything. I told him to get out of my life and never speak to me again. He could date whoever he wanted.
"I mean, we don't talk about that stuff. I just assume. He hasn't actually mentioned anything like that."
"Tiff, it's fine," I said. "I'm just happy to hear that everything is working out. This was what I wanted for him in the first place, and he's getting it."
"Yeah. I guess it is," she said. I didn't ask whether he had said anything about me. I wanted to know, obviously. I wanted to know everything, but that didn't matter. I knew the most important thing which was he was doing well. That alone meant I had made the right decision breaking it off so he could leave.
We split when it was time to do our tests. After grabbing lunch off campus with Tiffany after, I drove home.
I thought about what I would cook that night, but scrapped that plan immediately. Takeout, under a blanket, watching television sounded like the only real way that today would end. Maybe I'd get some wine to celebrate a semester well spent. Why not. Tonight I'd go to bed knowing that I had nothing that I had to do tomorrow.
I had missed that feeling. I loved feeling the accomplishment I would feel when I did something well for school, but the relief at being free for the next few weeks was trumping that at the moment. I passed by the store and bought a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers because now I wouldn't be so stressed out that I forgot to water them and went home. I took my time, taking the stairs up to my apartment.
I wasn't sure what I was looking at when I saw it. I slowed down, trying to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was. It was different from the last two I had found. This one was a gift box, pink with a bow on it, similar to the one that he had given my necklace to me in. I mean, if it was him who had left it behind at all. I didn't know that. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but my mind couldn't help connecting the dots for me as I ripped the lid from it.
Inside was a single sheet of plain paper, with writing on one side. I stopped because I needed to slow down. I was getting ahead of myself. Confirming what I already thought was true was both harrowing and exciting.
Was it really? Of course it was, who the hell else would leave something like that for me on my doorstep? He had done it before and if this was him again...
I stopped myself and took a deep breath. I picked the note out of the box, reading the neat, black print.
The usual spot. Noon tomorrow. See you there.
My heart thudded in my chest. It was his handwriting. It was the same message as the notes he had sent me this way in the past. I knew what it was asking me, but why? How? He was supposed to be in Miami. I vaguely remembered myself yelling at him to leave me alone because I was done with us. I wanted my old life back. What a joke. He thought so, too.
I read it again, my heart thumping. Tomorrow at noon. Tomorrow at noon something would happen. Whatever it was, I was excited.
Chapter 35
Roman
I looked down at the spread. Suddenl
y, sandwiches seemed too easy. I hadn't made them, I had bought them. Sun dried tomato, pickle, and Swiss cheese. Her favorite. Was it enough? Was a picnic too casual? I thought I'd go with something thoughtful instead of direct, like asking her to dinner. We could be alone here, and this was our spot. It was lower stakes, too, in case she was nervous and didn't want to go on an actual dinner date.
I was a little sad, remembering the last time I had tried to get her to do this with me. It had worked in the end, after about a week of false starts. It wasn't noon yet. It was a few minutes to twelve, so she technically had time. All I wanted was for her to show up. If she didn't then I didn't know whether I could commit to waiting for her to come around like the last time. I was on a much tighter schedule these days.
I hadn't told her anything in the note, but she'd know what to expect. Right? She was a smart girl. I took the brownies out of the basket and looked out along the boundary of the trees. A couple dog walkers in the distance. Some people with kids. Nobody that looked like Veronica. Yet.
I was hopeful. I felt like, the way we left things, we both wanted to make it right. The next time I looked at my phone, it was officially 12:03. I'd give her... I didn't know how much time to give her before she was late. I stood, making sure everything looked okay, walking around the blanket.
Maybe I should have gotten wine? Would she have liked that? Why was I so nervous? This was Veronica. The girl I had been in love with for almost the last four years. I knew her, and what she liked. I knew what I felt about her and I was pretty sure about what she felt about me too. I just needed this to be perfect. We needed to talk about some things. If today went well, everything would change.
A sound behind me made me look over my shoulder. She was wearing shorts and a white tank top. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. Our eyes met and then I was moving. Then she was. And then, I was holding her. My arms were around her so tight I might have been crushing her, but I didn't want to let go.