Page 119 of Between the Blue
My head pulls back, and, even though I’m as frustrated as Ben is right now, a small part of my heart softens for him feeling guilty about talking down on his players.
“None of them will pick up their phone,” Ben continues. “So I walked to the bar down the street they said they’d be at, and they weren’t there. So I tried two more on the same street, and they weren’t at those either. And all of the Storm staff are at a dinner meeting for at least another next hour. And it was pouring rain outside. And I’m tired. And it’s a big game tomorrow. And–Fuck.”
“I think that’s more words than I’ve ever heard you say at once.”
Ben turns, giving me a dull look. “Glad you’re entertained, Cherry.”
“I’m not entertained,” I tell him. “I just don’t know what else to do. How could this even happen?”
Ben turns away, and I’m not sure that he intends for me to hear what he mutters next, but I certainly do.
“Wouldn’t have happened if you wouldn’t have come.”
“You know what?” I snap, making Ben spin back to face me. “I’m really tired of feeling like I have to apologize to you for existing.”
Ben’s shoulders pull back, his brow furrowing, and I’m bracing myself for him to fight me, but then he completely shocks me instead. “You’re right,” he says. He blows out a heavy breath, his gaze falling to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
I cross my arms, straightening my spine. “So, what do we do?”
“I need to shower,” Ben says.
“Me too,” I agree. After a couple of moments of silence, I say, “Well, should we do that?”
Ben raises a brow.
“I didn’t mean, like, together. Obviously.” I feel my cheeks flush even as I try to act casual.
Ben narrows his eyes at me, then flicks his gaze down my body once before clearing his throat. “Obviously.”
“You can go first, if you want,” I say, nodding towards the bathroom.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and shaking his head at the screen that I assume is free of new notifications. “Hopefully, by the time we’re done, someone will respond.”
No one responds.
And now, Ben is sitting in the decorative chair in the corner of the room that’s too small for him and I’m awkwardly perched on the corner of the bed, both of us with wet hair and in clothes we clearly didn’t intend for any other person to see us in.
Neither of us have said anything in the last fifteen minutes, each of us alternating between looking at our phone screens and staring at the walls of the hotel room.
My eyelids are starting to feel heavy, my body aching from the long day. Just as I begin to cycle through my social mediaapps unnecessarily once more, Ben lets out a deep sigh, his head falling into his hands.
“Okay, I need to go to sleep,” he grumbles, standing up.
I hop off of the bed like it’s suddenly made of lava. “Okay,” I say.
Ben’s gaze shifts between me and the bed. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Letting you have the bed?” I cover myself with my arms, feeling awkward in my oversized AIT t-shirt and flowery sleep shorts that are so short you can’t even see them under the shirt.
Ben shakes his head, walking over to the closet and pulling out the extra blanket in there. He comes back my way, plucking a single pillow off of the bed and tossing it down on the floor next to the bed with the blanket.
“Um, what areyoudoing?” I ask him.
“Just get in the bed,” he says, sitting down on the floor.
“What? No way,” I insist. “You have to play tomorrow.”
“I’m well aware.”
