Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I ache.
I don’t even make it to the laundry room before my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Skaggs.
Of course.
I swipe to answer and hit speaker, tossing my keys to the laundry room drop zone as I fend off Nugget and his boisterous attack, his urgency to play and jump forever an irritation. Tonight I’m doubly annoyed at his lack of chill.
I shoo the dog away as I take my roommate’s call. “Yo.”
“Bro.” Skaggs immediately senses something is off. “You okay?”
“What’s up?”
I need him to get to the point so I can go be dramatic alone in my room and drown my sorrows in beer and ice cream.
My roommate is shouting over loud music. “You home?”
“Yup.” Always home AND ALONE.
Sigh.
“I thought I was gonna be home and was supposed to give Nugget his meds. Totally fucking forgot and I’m not gonna be home anytime soon,” he continues shouting.
He could have texted me this.
“I got it.” The dog stares up at me, wanting to jump on me. I can see it in his beady little eyes.
“Awesome, thanks.” He pauses. “Uh. You sure you’re good?”
I open the door to the fridge with the heel of my foot and lean against it. “Define good.”
“You don’t sound great—maybe you are actually sick or something.”
I bark out a laugh that’s more of a cry. “Yeah. I’m sick of something alright.”
There’s a pause. “Is this the same something that had you blowing chunks at practice yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Shit. Should you start wearing a mask?”
I scowl, annoyed as hell. “I don’t have Covid, you fucking moron!”
He pauses. “Oh. Cool.”
I stare blankly at the refrigerator’s contents, then shut it again without grabbing anything. My appetite’s gone, shredded into the same microscopic pulp as my dignity.
“You sure you’re alright?” Another beat goes by and Skaggs asks, “I can come home if you want to hang.”
I don’t want to hang!
I want to be alone to stew in my own miserable thoughts.
“No,” I clear my throat to keep my voice even. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
Like a loser.
“I can crash at Marlow’s,” Skaggs offers. “Give you space if you need it.”
I walk to the living room, flopping down on the couch. Drag a hand through my hair. “Nah, it’s your place too.”
He pays his fair share of my mortgage and utilities, and I’ve never put any rules in place for either of my roommates, which explains this pain in the ass of a dog that has no boundaries.
He’s the rudest roommate I have.
“You sure?”
I lean my head back against the cushion, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m sure. Just a rough night.”
Skaggs hesitates before offering one more time. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
YES. I AM SURE!
Although it wouldn’t be the worst idea to talk to someone about this fucked up situation I’m in. What started as something innocent became something more and now I’m in a weird, fucked-up love triangle where the object of my scorn is my teammate.
My roommate doesn’t know about Nova. Now is not the time to mention her name.
So I say, “Nah. I appreciate the offer, though. Adrenaline dump after the game, I guess.”
He doesn’t buy it.
We won the game, how could I be depressed?
Endorphins make you happy!
“Alright,” he says finally. “Well if you change your mind, you know where I’m at. Don’t keep your shit bottled up.”
That makes me chuckle. “You’re good people, Skaggs—no matter what anyone says about you.”
“Thanks man, I—” He stops. “Wait. What are people saying about me?”
“Night, Skaggs.”
“God dammit, Babi. What are people saying about m—”
I end the call and toss my cell on the coffee table. Then I sit in silence.
The house is too quiet. The couch too cold. And even though I told him not to come home, a small part of me wishes he would. Just so I wouldn’t have to sit here in the ruins of something I let myself believe could be real.
I lean forward, elbows on knees, and stare at the floor.
Still not hungry.
Still not okay.
29
Nova: I would really appreciate it if you would take my phone call… please Luca, let me explain.
Luca: Great. Hit me with your best shot…
Nova: I want to start by apologizing—again. I am so sorry, Luca. I was caught off guard and feel terrible you were put in that position.
Luca: That position? You mean the position where the woman I’m on a date with pretends we weren’t on a date? This is the second time you refused to be seen with me—remember that time I had to wait in your bedroom and hide so Gio wouldn’t know I was in your apartment? Remember that? Cause I do.
Nova: I thought we’d moved on from that…
Luca: I’m just wondering how you would feel if the roles were reversed. That’s what I’m wondering.
Nova: I know I messed up. I do. I hated saying what I said. It didn’t feel good. I feel like a jerk and if I could take it back, I would. A million times over.