“Have you even tried to talk to him?” she murmurs.
“Who, Ash? Your fiancé is kind of busy right now,” I tease her because it’s easier to focus on anyone else than Eli.
“I’m not talking about Ash.”
A sigh leaves me. “No, I haven’t tried talking to Eli. He sent me a few texts right after our last fight, but I didn’t respond.”
He was trying to convince me to talk to him, but I wasn’t in the mood. I’m still not. And I didn’t block him again. Not on any social media, and he didn’t block me either. We’re readily available to each other at any moment, but I’m not ready to reach out.
I guess neither is he.
He’s having a great football season. The Bulldogs made it to the playoffs, and if they win this weekend’s game, they’ll play in the Mountain West conference championship the first weekend in December. And if they win the championship, the Bulldogs will receive the opportunity to play in a bowl game in mid-December. By the time he’s finished with his last college football season, I’ll be packing up, eager to escape. I’m leaving for San Diego the first week in January.
I’m out of here. And I’m not looking back this time around, or waiting for someone to realize they fucked up.
“You two are so stubborn,” Autumn mutters.
“I told you everything that happened between us, you know why I’m being stubborn.” And I’m not backing down from it either. The man is infuriating.
“Listen, I think he’s a little prick, you know this. I don’t have a soft spot for him like Mom, or see all that potential in him like Dad. But I don’t hate him like Jake does whenever Eli does you wrong.”
“Jake still hates him?” He’ll be home this afternoon and he’s bringing Hannah with him. I can’t wait to see them, though I don’t want any “I told you so” lectures from my big brother either.
“Any excuse he can get for hating Eli, he’ll take,” Autumn says. “But what I’m trying to tell you is that I will always be on your side no matter what. You’re my baby sister. We have to stick together.”
There’s something she’s not saying.
“But?” I prompt.
“But…you’re only torturing yourself by cutting him completely off. Eli just—he gets wrapped up in his own head and makes really emotional decisions.”
“That end up hurting me,” I remind her.
“Right. You’re so right. He does things and never thinks about the consequences. Look, I’ve been with Ash for a long time, and I understand the pressure he’s under—as much as I can, considering I’m not the one who’s actually dealing with it. But I know it’s a lot.”
I remain quiet, her words sinking into me. She knows better than anyone what it’s like, dealing with a boyfriend who plays for a college team. Mom knew, but that was years ago.
“And I really think the pressure just got to Eli and he exploded, believing you were the easiest thing to temporarily remove from his life. That’s because you’re the one person he can count on more than anyone else. He figured you would be there and show up for him when he needed you,” Autumn explains.
Her words are killing me. She’s probably right, and it’s tough to hear.
“It’s not fair, how he treated you,” she says. I lift my gaze to hers, seeing all the sympathy swirling in her gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, I’m just trying to figure him out.”
“I know,” I murmur. I am the one person he believed he could count on more than anyone else. Everyone disappoints him. Or he disappoints other people—that’s the way he feels, at least.
Never me, though. I’m supposed to love him and stand by him no matter what. Instead, I told him he’s a selfish ass who doesn’t deserve me.
So where do I go from here?
“I’ll support you no matter what you do. If you’re over him, then good. Be done with him,” Autumn says fiercely.
A frustrated huff leaves me and I glare at the ceiling, kicking at the mattress like a toddler having a tantrum. Autumn lets me, not saying a word or chastising me for my lame behavior. I need to get it out and she’s letting me, thank God.
“I’m not the bad guy in this situation,” I tell her.
“Neither of you are.”
I jump off the bed and start pacing around my room, kicking clothes strewn about the floor out of my way. My room is a mess. I can’t remember the last time I cleaned it. And it’s so dark in here. The blinds are drawn, as well as the blackout curtains and I go to one of my windows, yanking the curtains open before I draw up the blinds.
The sun smacks me right in the face, and I squint, surprised to see nothing but clear blue skies and a few white fluffy clouds. “It’s beautiful outside.”
“I tried to get you to go on a walk with me,” she says, like the bossy big sister she is. “But you said no.”
I turn to look at her, watching as she sits up on my bed, smoothing her hair away from her face. “I’m tired of being sad,” I say.
She smiles. “If I’d known my talking to you would’ve pushed you out of your perpetual bad mood, I would’ve done it sooner.”
Rolling my eyes, I stare out the window once more, spotting my dad in the front yard with my uncle, my cousin Knox and Beck. They’re throwing a football back and forth, all of them football gods in their own right.
Which, of course, makes me think of Eli and everyone else. Even Ash.
“Where’s your fiancé?”
“He’s flying in tonight. Then he flies back out first thing Friday morning. He has a game,” Autumn explains.
“Are you staying longer?”
“I’ll stay as long as you need me, baby sister.”
My gaze narrows. “Did Mom say she wanted you to stay?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs, brushing it off. “You need to get out in the sun. You’re really pale, and giving me serious Twilight vibes. Plus you look like you’ve lost weight.”
“Depression over a breakup is a great diet,” I say sarcastically, though I mean every word I say.
Autumn joins me at the window, glancing down at the yard. “Remember when we used to throw the football with them?”
“They humored us.”
“Ha,” she barks. “I don’t know about you, but I always had a pretty good arm. Dad used to say I was better than Jake.”
Her laughter grows, and so does mine.
“That made him so mad,” I say, comforted when Autumn wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into her side.
“It did, and there is nothing better than making Jake angry.”
We both laugh at that.
“Let’s go out there and show them what we’ve got.”
I glance down at myself in the old T-shirt I’m wearing—one of Eli’s, of course, because I like torturing myself. “Let me change first.”
“Okay.” She pulls me in for a hug. “And hey, it’s going to be all right. It’ll all work out like it’s supposed to.”
After Autumn leaves, I go into the bathroom and brush my hair. Splash water on my face. Stare at my reflection, noting that I’m actually very pale, even my lips. My hair hangs limp and I can’t remember the last time I washed it. I haven’t worn makeup since I don’t know when and I haven’t gotten dressed up. It’s mostly old T-shirts and sweats. And my appetite has completely left me.
Deciding to brush my teeth, I put some toothpaste on my electric toothbrush and start, scrubbing my back molars vigorously.
Too vigorously.
I gag, pulling the toothbrush out fast and stand there gasping for a moment.
Carefully, I start up again, but this time the gagging happens much faster than the first time and I actually vomit.
Not much since I really don’t have anything in my system, but still.
That was weird.
“You look better,” Dad says as he comes to stand next to me on the lawn. “Got a little pink in your cheeks.”
We’ve been playing catch with the guys for at least an hour, and wh
ile I’m over here panting, ready to be done with all the running around since I’m woefully out of shape, nobody else looks in a hurry to wrap this up. My cousin Knox is standing on the other side of my dad, tossing insults at his father and my brother and sister, which is cracking me up and making me forget my troubles, at least temporarily.
I love Knox. He’s funny. Reminds me of my uncle.
“Fresh air will do wonders for a person. Isn’t that what you always used to tell us,” I reply, hoping he won’t ask me too many questions. He hasn’t since the re-breakup went down, thank God, but I’m sure he knows why I’m sad.
Mom probably filled him in with all the details, though I didn’t tell her every single one.
“It is.” Beck sails the ball right at Dad and he catches it with one hand. Impressive. “And it’s true. You’ve been locked up in your room for weeks, Ava. You’re worrying me.”
Parental guilt is real. And while my parents aren’t the type to lay it on thick, when they do say stuff like what Dad just did, well…
They succeed in making me feel bad.
“I’m okay,” I say with the smallest smile. “I just need to get over myself.”
Dad makes a harumphing sound. “More like you need to get over someone else.”
“Do you hate him?” I ask, despising the worry in my voice. I don’t want my father to hate Eli. A few months ago, yes, I wanted it. But right now?
No. I don’t understand why either. This entire situation between us has been so confusing.
“Time out,” Dad calls to everyone, holding his hand up before he returns his attention to me. Everyone else ignores us and starts throwing the ball to each other, taking us completely out of it. “No, I don’t hate Eli Bennett. I just hate what he’s done to my daughter.”
I swallow hard, telling myself not to fall apart and cry. It’s difficult, though, when you’ve got your daddy, your original protector, standing in front of you with concern etched all over his face, sounding like he’s still my knight in shining armor. “We’ve done the same thing to each other, and it’s so stupid.”
I realize this. I realized this almost instantly after our last conversation. Two wrongs don’t make a right. But how can I be understanding and supportive when he didn’t do the same for me? Should I have been the understanding girlfriend and given him what he wanted as an example of how to really be?
Maybe.
Though I can’t regret what I’ve done. It’s too late to change it now.
“Your mother and I were younger than you two when we first got together.” His smile is faint. “And we did some really stupid shit.”
I can’t help but laugh, which makes him chuckle too. “Mom has mentioned a few things.”
“Really?” He lifts his brows. “Well, whatever she’s said, I’m sure it was actually ten times worse. I was a complete dumbass who ran away from my feelings.”
Eli is always too much in his feelings. He doesn’t want to run away from them. He wants to soak in them and rehash them over and over again.
“And I tried my best to distance myself from your mother to protect her,” he continues. “Didn’t work. She forced herself back into my life.”
“You wanted her to though,” I say to him.
“Oh yeah. I definitely wanted her to, though at the time, I didn’t see it. She was the light to my dark. And I used to be—really dark,” he admits.
I can’t even fathom it. My father is the most loving, protective man I know. Even when we were little and he wasn’t around much, thanks to his NFL career, he always made time for us. Made each of us, and our mother, feel special.
“I don’t believe it,” I tease him.
“It’s true. I was dealing with my personal demons and your mother helped me get through it,” he says with a nod. “Eli has his own demons to battle. He’s a different kind of player than I ever was. Much more—”
“Emotional,” I finish for him. “His emotions are a blessing and a curse.”
“Exactly. They get him in trouble. Like he’s in trouble with you right now.”
It’s true. And I want to fix it, but I don’t know how. Or where to start. I’m terrified if I wait for Eli to make the first move, he just…never will.
And that’ll be it. Everything over between us. Done. Finished.
“I can’t even believe I’m saying this, since it sounds like I’m defending him, but I have played with a variety of guys during my football career. Professionals, who never acted out, were always on time and excellent players. Ones who had the skills but lacked the passion. Those types didn’t go far. I could go on and on. Eli has the skillset and the passion, he just needs to learn how to rein the passion in so it doesn’t overwhelm him. And to leave his troubles at home or wherever they belong, and bring the skills and the passion onto the field. If he can get that under control, he will rule the world,” Dad says.
“What kind of player were you?” I have my own feelings, but I want to hear his.
“I had the skillset and eventually the passion, but at first, I was more of a machine. I knew how to get out on that field and get the job done. Your mother helped me find my love for football. Before her, I was just going through the motions,” he explains.
The love of a good woman changed him, I guess.
“Your brother is much the same. He channels his anger onto the field, which helps,” Dad continues.
“I think Eli was doing that after we broke up. Then we get back together and his anger disappeared,” I say, not about to tell my father how Eli called my vagina magical and said it zapped him of his powers.
Talk about ridiculous.
“He probably was. Don’t take it as an insult that you throw him off. Just—maybe he just needs to figure out his shit?” When I send him a look, he shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Hmm. I don’t know if I have the patience to wait for Eli to figure himself out.
For all I know, he’s already moved on.
Twenty-Nine
Ava
It’s Thanksgiving afternoon and I’ve mostly avoided the chaos that is my house. Family and friends everywhere. The annual football game with the fam—I begged out of it, said I wasn’t feeling good.
Which is true. I feel like crap. I think I’m coming down with something. I’m tired all the time, can barely keep my eyes open, and I try to eat, but I just want to barf it all back up so I stop. Which means I’m cranky, because I’m hungry, yet everything sounds disgusting.
A vicious cycle.
I’m getting lots of sympathetic looks from family members and my Aunt Chelsea has asked me if I was okay at least one hundred times since she arrived a couple of days ago, which tells me I must look really bad.
Autumn texts me it’s almost time to eat and I throw a sweater on over my T-shirt and leggings combo, ready to head downstairs when there’s a knock on my door and then Jake’s busting through it, his expression determined.
He comes to a stop and looks me up and down, his brows drawing together. “You look worse than yesterday.”
“Gee, thanks.” I try to push past him, but he grabs hold of my arm. “If you came in my room to make me feel bad about myself, good job. You succeeded.”
“That wasn’t the plan, but everyone’s concerned about you, Ava. Are you like legit depressed over this Eli Bennett thing? He’s not worth your stress,” he says with a scowl.
Talking about Eli with Jake is never smart. “I thought I was depressed, but I feel awful. I think I’ve caught something.”
Jake releases his hold on me and takes a big step back as if I’m contagious. Which I might be. “Whoa. Like what?”
“I don’t know. A virus? A bug? The flu?” I touch my forehead, but I can’t tell if I have a fever.
“You achy all over?”
I shake my head.
“Feverish?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Throwing up, coming out both ends?” He winces.
“Gross. And no. Though I do fe
el nauseous.”
“Pregnant?” Jake laughs.
I don’t.
Oh shit.
Pregnant?
His laughter dies when I don’t react the way he wants me to. “Nah.”
I meet his gaze, then shrug.
“Ava, no.”
Um, I can’t remember the last time I had my period. The times with Eli, we never used a condom. Because I’ve been on the pill for pretty much the entirety of our relationship.
With the exception of the last few months. I kept forgetting to renew my prescription, so they could send me the pills via mail and I eventually thought, screw it.
Not like anyone was screwing me.
But someone has recently. Quite a few times.
With no condom.
“Damn it, Ava, you can’t be pregnant with that asshole’s baby.” The look on my brother’s face is nothing short of horrified.
“Don’t call him an asshole.” I fall heavily onto the edge of my bed, staring off into space. I use an app on my phone to track my period, but lately, I haven’t even opened it. I used to obsessively check it to track my cycle, but after a while—and being on the pill for so long—I rarely saw the need. And I was still regular like clockwork.
Grabbing my phone, I go into my app, ignoring Jake who’s huffing and puffing and muttering over Eli, and I check when I should’ve had my period last.
Over two weeks ago.
I immediately text Autumn.
Me: Could you come to my room please?
“You should go,” I tell Jake, who stops his pacing to glare at me. “Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“That’s it? You’re going to drop a bomb on me and then expect me to act like nothing’s happened?” Jake rakes his hands through his hair, clutching the back of his head.
He looks really stressed out.
“I think we’re both overreacting.” It’s amazing how calm and level-headed I feel in this moment. I don’t know what’s come over me. “Seriously, I think it’s just the flu.”
“If you say so.” He sounds doubtful.
I jump to my feet and go to my brother, sending him an imploring look. “Don’t utter a word of this to anyone, okay? It’s probably not even true, but I don’t want you starting rumors or whatever among the family. You can’t even tell Hannah.”
The Senior (College Years Book 4) Page 24