Page 52 of Hot Route
“Where are you going?” he asks, following me.
I enter my room, throwing open the closet door and stuffing whatever I can find in my duffle bag as he stands in the doorway. “I’m going to Chicago. I’m bringing Mads home.”
“Fuck yeah, baby! Throw some extra shit in there,” he says, pointing to my bag. “I’m coming with you.” I don’t argue with him because maybe it’ll be better having him there. Dalton can be a fucking clown sometimes, but he always has my back when I need him.
Twenty minutes later, he’s booked our tickets and I'm driving as fast as I can toward the airport. I don't know how we managed it, but we were able to secure two first-class tickets straight to O'Hare tonight. It's like the universe wants me to go get my girl. I don't know how she’ll react when she sees me, but I need to be with her. I probably could have just called, but I have a feeling it’s going to take some convincing to get her back here. I know I’ll have better luck if I show up at her doorstep and ask her in person to come home. Plus, I already miss holding her. So, if I’m putting forth all this effort just for a hug and she decides she wants to stay there, it's still worth it to me.
She’llalways be worth it to me.
THIRTY-NINE
MADS
“I’ll fucking kill him,”my dad grumbles, standing from the couch.
“Dad!” I scold. I think I’ve heard him drop the f-bomb a total of three times in my whole life. But when I told him how Brady got me fired, he went into papa bear mode.
“No, Madison,” he says, sternly. “That boy has made you cry too many times. He’s a spoiled brat and doesn’t deserve the success he has. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”
My mom walks over to stand by him, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. “Your father is right, sweetheart. You can’t let him run you out of that city. You need to tell your boss the whole story. Maybe there were witnesses in the restaurant that night that heard you turn down Brady’s advances.”
I think back to that night. The dimly lit table in the corner. The waitress who made her judgement of my outfit very apparent. Brady voicing his disgust for the things I like in bed. I obviously can’t tell my parents about all of that. “There wasn’t,” I say. “He reserved a secluded table. The only thing people would’ve been able to hear was me yelling at him when he insulted Blaze.”
It's hopeless. My chances of working in Boston are zero. If I go back, I’m sure Brady will tarnish my name with his bullshit story. I just have to focus on coming up with a new plan for my future. But how can I do that knowing wherever I end up, Blaze won’t be there?
“Sorry!” Dia yells as she busts through the door without so much as a knock. “I couldn’t find anyone to cover my shift at the club, so I had to tell my boss that my aunt died and that I had to leave work to go identify her body.”
I scrunch my eyebrows. “Dia, you don’t have an aunt,” I reply.
“I know, but this is an emergency. I had to be creative.” She walks over and pulls me into a tight hug. My parents head out of the room, kissing us both on the cheek as they pass by. I’m thankful that they always know what I need. And right now, that’s time to sort through the things I’m feeling with my best friend. She already knows the details of what happened with Brady. We talked for a good part of my ride here. I practically had to beg her not to get on a plane to Boston and beat the shit out of him. I'm still not completely convinced that she isn't going to go rogue and do it anyway.
I motion for her to sit down on the couch. My body aches everywhere. Between all the crying I've done, the long drive from Boston, and the broken heart I’m currently nursing from being so far away from Blaze, I feel like shit. He would be coming home from practice right now to find me waiting impatiently for him in front of the TV. We'd do what we always do, changing into our pajamas before choosing a movie that we had no intentions of watching. We'd either fall asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted from the day, or find some other trouble to get into together. I miss him so much, I can barely breathe.
“What are you thinking about?” Dia asks. I decide to be honest with her. And with myself.
“Ever since I was little, all I ever wanted was to be a sports reporter. I spent so much time and money learning the ins and outs of journalism so I could be the best. I was told that it wasn't the place for a girl and that I would never make it. That always fueled me to keep going. I thought it was my purpose in life.” Tears threaten to fall as I try to come up with the right words to explain what’s going through my head. As messy as it all is, there’s one thing that I’m completely sure about. “Now I'm starting to wonder if any of that is important. If being a journalist means that I have to be away from Blaze, I'm not sure I want it anymore. I just want him.”
“So, go get him.” She says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s just that simple to throw away everything I’ve worked for and go back to Boston to be with Blaze. What would I even do there? Work for him as his assistant and have him pay me to make his daily schedules? That's a good side job, but I won't be content like that. I won't want to have him taking care of me and paying for everything. I wasn't raised that way and it's not who I am. I want to be his partner, not his problem.
“Dia, I can’t just go get him. It’s not that easy,” I say.
“Bullshit,” she replies. “You literally just said you don’t know if you want to be a journalist anymore if it means being away from him. We both know damn well you won’t give up on your dream, but the fact that you’re even considering it an option tells me that being with Blaze is most important right now. Go get him. Worry about your career later. You can and will haveboth.”
I sit there for a moment as realization hits me like a speeding bus. “I’m so stupid,” I scoff. “Why did I leave him?” They say hindsight is twenty-twenty and that’s never been truer than it is right now. All I’ve ever known is wanting to stand on the sidelines with a microphone in my hand, so when someone threatened to take that from me, I panicked. I left Bostonthinking the city had nothing to offer me. But it does. It has Blaze. And that is all I need right now.
Dia is right. I don’t want to give up on becoming a journalist, but I can figure out my next move with Blaze by my side. I’m stronger that way. His love and encouragement is exactly what I need to dust myself off and take the career I’ve earned with my middle fingers held high in the air for anyone who has told me I don’t belong.
I jump up from the couch and head toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Dia yells from behind me.
“Getting my bags,” I rush out. “I need to go to him.”
She grabs me by the arm, halting me halfway up the staircase. “Bitch, are you crazy? You just drove for like, a million hours and you’re running on ninety minutes of sleep and a Snickers bar. You need to chill the fuck out, get some rest, and head back tomorrow.”
I scrunch my nose. “I hate when you’re rational. It’s annoying,” I say as I make my way back down the stairs. Just as I plop back down on the couch, the doorbell rings. I’m not expecting anyone, but maybe my parents ordered some pizza since they didn’t want to disturb us.
“I’ll get it,” Dia says, walking across the living room. She presses her face to the door, looking out the peephole. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.”
