Page 132 of Between the Blue
“No, please, entertain me with whatever this is.”
“Cherry, stop–”
“Because, last time I checked, you were in control of your own body.”
“My body is not the problem, trust me,” Ben huffs.
“Then what is it?”
He finally stops trying to get around me, instead looking me dead in the eye. “It’s my fuckingbrain.”
“What…” I trail off, the pure anger in Ben’s eyes stopping me in place.
“I warned you. I told you. I damn nearbeggedyou,” he fumes, pointing a finger at my chest. “I asked you to leave me alone. To stay out of my way. To let me do my job. To stay out of my fucking head. Why won’t you listen? Why did you have to take it so far?”
“Me?” I demand, my voice a choked whisper. “There’s no way you’re blaming everything that’s happened between us on me.”
He leans in closer to me, his face looking like it’s twisted up in pain. “I’m supposed to be a professional athlete.”
“Youare,” I tell him.
“I can’t think.” He puts one hand on the wall next to him, the other on his chest. “I feel like I can barely breathe.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” I say. “It’s what happens when you care about someone.”
He instantly shakes his head. “No.”
“Ben, it’s okay to care. It’s okay to want–”
“I don’t,” he cuts me off harshly.
My head pulls back. “You don’t what?”
“Want you.”
My spine steels.
We both stare off for a few long seconds, and then a distant voice comes from down the hallway behind Ben.
“Bennett?”
It seems to break Ben out of his trance, making him blink, his eyes going vacant as he looks through me now.
“You didn’t see me here,” he states.
And then he walks past me.
My phone ringing in my pocket is the only thing capable of making me move. I take it out with hands still shaking from anger, answering it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Caroline! Are you going to Randall’s tonight?”
I swallow, fisting my hand at my side, trying to clear my mind enough to process her question. But my lack of response doesn’t stop Caroline from continuing to speak.
“I don’t want to,” she says, “but I haven’t socialized with anyone other than sports and data nerds in over a week, and I find I get called a raging bitch more often when I finally re-emerge into society after prolonged periods of being in my own bubble. So, long story short, I’m calling you because I am sitting on the fence and am asking you to push me over the edge of it, my sweet, sweet Addie. Also, it’s been too long. I want to see you.”
“You want me?” I find myself robotically saying.
