Page 119 of Bump and Run

Twenty-Eight

Eliza

My reflection stares backat me and no matter how much I try, I can’t wipe that judgmental gaze out of my eyes.

I focus on what I can control and that’s the show. I grab my make-up foundation and smear a thin layer on my skin. I draw thick lines around my eyes with black liner to make them pop under the stage lights. I swallow the lump down my throat to keep from crying and try not to think about how I just turned my back on the only love I’ve ever known.

Grant sits down on the edge of the vanity table. “Lover Boy wants to know what’s wrong with you.”

I sigh. “You talked to him?”

“He accosted me in the lobby. I feared for my life,” he jokes, laying a hand on his heart. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I say, grabbing the lipstick from my make-up bag.

Grant snatches it from my hand and slides the bag away from me. “What’s wrong?” he asks again.

“Grant, we need to get ready.”

“We’ll get ready after. What happened?”

I take a deep breath but it doesn’t help. “Dad found out about us.”

He gives a slow nod. “How did he find out?”

“He found…” I hesitate. “He just found out.”

“Did you tell Junior?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I heave an impatient breath. “Grant…”

“He said you broke up with him.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t be together,” I answer. “We never should have been in the first place.”

Grant shakes his head. “Why are you letting this tear you apart? What aren’t you telling me?”

A fresh wave of nausea plagues me. I’ve felt it since last night; a slow burn inside that never quite seems to go away no matter what I do.

“Junior will never choose me,” I mutter.

“Choose you?” he repeats. “Over what?”

“Over football. Over everything — the fame, money. All of it.”

“That’s crap,” Grant spits.

“Is it?” I ask. “My dad chose it over me before. What makes Junior any different?”

“The difference is that Junior loves you.”

---