Page 77 of How We Fooled

“No buts. I’m not ending this with you.”

“I can’t be the reason your entire career is thrown off course.”

“You’re putting your career on the line. What’s the difference if I put mine on the line for you?”

“There’s a huge difference, and you know it. I’m a teacher. You’re talking about the MLB.”

“No. I’m talking about your dream versus my dream. There is no difference.”

We sit in silence as I stare at the ceiling.

“I just don’t know what to do,” I finally say. “But I know we can’t keep doing this. It will only hurt us if we get caught.”

“We won’t get caught.”

“We already have. Just … just give me some time to come to terms with it, okay?” I hang up, knowing if I didn’t right then, then I never would.

I curl into a ball and do the only thing I do have control over right now. I cry.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Eli

Every time I’ve reached out to Liza this week, she’s ignored my calls and texts. That doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped trying though. I’ve explained to her that I will give her the space she needs, but I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as I need to until we can be together. She needs to know that I am here, no matter what.

Now that we’ve survived the week with Maya keeping her promise and no one saying a thing, I think it’s time we put this behind us and try to move on.

I’m supposed to go to Ben’s today to hang out, like we normally do on Sundays, but I need to clear my head beforehand, so I grab my basketball and head out to the park.

Of course, I call Liza as soon as I get in the truck, but she doesn’t answer, so I drive around for a while, hoping she might call me back before heading to the park.

When I pull up, Ben is already there, shooting some hoops by himself.

I’ve wondered what he’s thought about Maya dating this new guy. Him being here alone pretty much solidifies that he’s not liking it. He’s not one to ever be alone, so I bet he’s here to work through some things, just like I am.

What are these girls doing to us?

I exit the car, grabbing the bag I keep in the back of my truck at all times, which has anything I might need in instances like this. I head his way, and he throws me the ball, inviting me to play with him.

I put my bag down and take a shot from where I’m standing, sinking it with ease. Ben gets my rebound and throws it back to me to shoot again. We play like this in silence for a while, which I appreciate.

“What are you doing out here?” Ben asks, breaking our silence.

“Needed to think,” I respond without looking at him while taking a shot. I make it, so he gives it back to me to shoot again. “I take it, you’re doing the same thing—about Maya?”

He doesn’t respond, giving me all the confirmation I need.

“I get it.” I run up for a layup. “Question is, what are you going to do about it?”

He grabs the ball. “Should I ask you the same question?” He puts it back on me.

I ignore his question, and we play like this for an hour, neither of us saying a word as we toss the ball back and forth, both thinking about the girls who plague us.

Ben checks his watch. “We should head out. You coming over?”

I agree and turn to gather my stuff. “Yeah, I will. I have something to do first.”

Ben pauses, looking at me with concern written all over his face. I haven’t told a soul about Liza, so I can only imagine what’s going through his head.

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