Page 58 of The Love Haters

Next, without my permission, my hand brought itself over to my own tummy, pressing against my own buoyant, insulating, life-saving sponginess with a new appreciation.

And then the funniest thing happened.

As our lesson ended, and Rue and the ladies dispersed from their courtside seats, and as Hutch started freestyling toward the edge of the pool, his shoulders churning the water, I felt something shift in my psyche.

All day long, I’d been dreading asking this guy to do a “Day in the Life” video with me—an idea I was 90 percent sure he’d hate. I’d been trying to force myself to do it the way you make yourself do homework: I knew Ineededto. But I hadn’twantedto.

Now, suddenly, I wanted to.

Suddenly, I was truly, deeply curious about a day in his life.

Hutch hoisted himself up in one virile motion and flipped aroundto sit on the pool’s edge. Then called over to me to ask, “Any questions so far?”

“Yes,” I answered, sloshing my way closer to him.

Hutch waited. Then, when I got close, I stood there, half-submerged, and said, “Would you by any chance be willing to do a small, extra mini-documentary with me for YouTube—on top of the one we’re already doing?”

At the question, Hutch dropped his head in that aw-shucks way of his and then lifted it again to frown in my direction.

“Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

Was that a no already? But I wasn’t finished. “It’s just a series I do—on the side—about… heroes?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Oh. Right. “Because it could be powerful and inspiring?”

Hutch didn’t react. So I added, “And profound. And beautiful. And it could capture… deep truths about your life.”

“What if I don’t want to capture deep truths about my life?”

How to answer that? “Then you don’t have to watch it?”

“But other people will.”

“Yeah. That’s called being famous.”

“I don’t want to be famous.”

“Too late.”

Hutch thought about that. Then he nodded. “Maybe. But I don’t have to make it worse.”

We didn’t have to keep going. There were no signs of hope in this conversation.

“So that’s a no, then?” I asked.

Then, as friendly as pie, Hutch said: “That’s not just a no. That’s ano way in hell.”

Nine

NO WAY INhell.

Not a lot of wiggle room there.

To be honest, I hadn’t been completely truthful with Hutch during our alliance negotiations when I told him that I was in contact with Coleoften.

I was actually in contact with Colefrom time to time.

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