Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Nico stands at the locker room door with his hands in his pockets, waiting for us. The phone is in his hand, and I don’t even want to know what he did about a press release. I have no idea what is even going on. Nico nods at me just like he did the last two periods. He pulled me aside during the first and second period to let me know she was okay but nothing else. I walk over to my spot and start to undress. By the time I sit and get my skates off, the whole team has followed me in here. "Locker room is closed for the press!” Nico shouts, and I look over at Manning, shaking my head.
"Why?" I stop untying my skate to look over at Nico. "This is Manning’s one thousandth game," I say. "He deserves to fucking talk to the press."
Manning laughs. "You’re kidding, right? This is the best thing in my opinion. I owe you a bottle of scotch." I just look over at him, shocked. "It’s a big game, but even though I said no, Nico set up a ceremony after the next game so the press can be all over my ass for that."
"That is great marketing," Nico says to Manning. "You should take over PR when you retire."
No one says a word the whole time we undress. Everyone is on eggshells, and I hate that it’s because of me, again. I shower in record time and then walk out of the room toward the car. The press is there, but I don’t say anything to them as I take off. I dial her number right away, and she answers in the middle of the first ring.
"Hello," she answers, and all the pressure on my chest is lifted for a bit. It’s like a feeling of peace comes over me, just from hearing her voice.
"Hi," I say, pulling out of the lot. "I just left. Where are you?"
"Home," she says. "But I’m leaving, and I’ll meet you at your house."
"Wait," I say before she hangs up. "What if the press is there?"
"So, they see me walking into your house," she says. "I’ll wait for you in the backyard until you get there."
"No!" I shout, looking at the phone. "The code to the front door is zero six zero five."
"Got it. See you there." I’m about to say something else, but I stop myself. She hangs up the phone, and the pit in my stomach is back, knowing I’m going to have to do something that I don’t want to do. Something that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. I get to the house before she does, and I’m glad to see no one is waiting for me. Walking into the house, I toss my phone onto the counter and look at it, seeing more messages than I know what to do with. The phone has been ringing off the hook and vibrating since I got in the car. I know that I should go online and see what the fuck is going on. I know that I need to call Becca, hoping she feels sorry for me and we think of a press release. I know that I should be doing all of these things, but I can’t do anything until I see her. My whole body is filled with anger, and I’m afraid I’ll do something that would make this whole situation even worse if I go online. Although I don’t know how it can get worse.
Shrugging my jacket off, I undo the top button on my shirt, feeling suffocated in it. My mouth is getting so dry as the minutes tick by. I walk to the kitchen and grab a water bottle when the front door opens and then shuts.
I look toward the hallway and see her walk in, wearing the same thing she wore when she got dressed here this afternoon. My eyes roam her face as I look for any signs of tears or anger or anything. "Hi," she says, coming to me, and my heart stops beating in my chest. Her hand comes up to touch my lip, leaning in to kiss me, and my whole body goes stiff. She notices right away when my hand doesn’t move from the water bottle to hug her. "What’s wrong?"
I avoid looking into her eyes because I’m afraid she’ll see the truth, but for the first time in my whole life, I’m going to do the right thing for someone else and not myself. I have to say it fucking sucks. "We need to talk," I say, and she steps away from me, and my hand squeezes the bottle I’m holding because I was going to pull her back to me.
"Oh my God." She shakes her head and walks around the counter to glare at me. "You’re going to break up with me, aren’t you?" She laughs bitterly.